Chapter 3: The Young Mistress of the Song Family

Page 1 of 3

In the southern part of the city, at the residence of Master Song...

Master Song was a businessman, and one who had been deeply superstitious about ghosts and gods. In his early years, he remained childless and sought out a renowned monk to read his family’s fortune. The monk told him that he had used means contrary to the will of Heaven in his business dealings, and that retribution would visit him in this life, bringing misfortune in his later years.

Following the monk’s advice, Master Song moved to Heyang County, donated money to purchase an official title, adopted a vegetarian diet, worshipped Buddha, and prayed devoutly before a statue of the Bodhisattva. In just a few years, he was indeed blessed with a son...

Overjoyed, Master Song remembered the monk’s guidance, and vowed to offer incense before the Bodhisattva for thirty years.

More than twenty years passed in a flash, and his son had come of age. Yet every woman he married died soon after, four respectable young women in as many years. Rumors abounded that Master Song’s son was born under a baleful star, destined to bring ruin upon his brides.

Angered by such talk, the young man quarreled and came to blows with others, sustaining injuries that left him bedridden.

Last year, Master Song once again consulted a fortune-teller and arranged a marriage for his son, hoping to bring a change of luck. The wedding took place, and for half a year nothing untoward happened, but before Master Song could rejoice, his son’s old illness returned and swiftly claimed his life.

To lose one’s only child is a grief beyond bearing; overnight, Master Song seemed to age ten years.

After the funeral, Master Song became despondent. The sight of the Bodhisattva statue in the ancestral hall filled him with irritation, and he ordered it destroyed. Yet, after a lifetime of superstition, he could not bring himself to do it directly. Instead, he paid others to carry the statue out of the house and have it smashed elsewhere, venting his bitterness.

The moon hung bright and sparse in the sky as the hour of the pig approached. In the ancestral hall of the Song family, candlelight flickered. Master Song, his hair gray and his eyes clouded with age, sat leaning on his cane, a heavy air of dusk about him.

At the center of the hall sat a six-armed Bodhisattva, its brows furrowed, its body adorned with flame-like carvings, glowing brilliantly in the candlelight.

A knock at the door sounded. The old steward of the Song family entered quietly. "Master, the young mistress requests an audience outside."

"Let her in," Master Song replied, nodding. The thought that his son had passed without leaving an heir caused his aged eyes to dim further.

Pei Xueyan entered and saluted her father-in-law, her lips pressed together. "Father, it’s nearly midnight. You should rest."

"It’s nothing," Master Song replied, waving her concern aside.

His cloudy eyes fixed upon the Bodhisattva statue in the center of the hall. His voice was without joy or sorrow. "I wish to look at it one last time."

Pei Xueyan had been in the Song family less than a year and had little affection for them, but she understood how deeply her husband's death had wounded her father-in-law.

She sighed, again persuading him, "Father, you should return to your room and rest. Leave these small matters to me."

"Very well." Master Song did not protest further. He was old, after all, and exhaustion quickly overtook him.

As he rose with the support of his cane, he glanced at his daughter-in-law and sighed with a strange expression. "Xueyan, you have suffered."

"Why say such a thing?" Pei Xueyan’s lips curved in a forced smile. "Since I entered the Song family, I am one of its own. It is fate."

"Fate? I have believed in fate my whole life," Master Song muttered, almost laughing through tears. "In the end, it's all fate, fate indeed..."

After his laughter faded, he made his way toward the door but paused as if recalling something. He turned back.

"Xueyan, a lifetime is far too long," he said with a heavy heart. "I have only two regrets in this life—one is that I never had a daughter, the other is that my son died young and left the Song family without an heir."

Page 2 of 3

"You have not been with the Song family long, but in all matters, I, this old man, have seen your conduct and have no complaint."

He paused, then continued, "Now that my son is gone, if you are still willing to call me father, then you are as a daughter to this family. While you are still young, find someone you truly wish to marry. I will provide you with a dowry, so that you need not end up like me, alone and without kin in old age."

With these words, Master Song did not linger. Supported by the steward, he returned to his room, leaving Pei Xueyan to sigh alone in the hall.

She had been born the daughter of merchants, but her family fortunes fell. A fortune-teller claimed her fate was too strong for ordinary families to contain, bringing them misfortune. She did not believe such things, but her father did and sold her to pay off debts, marrying her into the Song family, which was in need of a woman of strong fate.

Though the marriage was completed, her husband was bedridden and soon died. She had not even enjoyed a single day as a bride before becoming a widow—what misfortune!

She knew her choices: either remain a widow for life, or remarry.

A lifetime was indeed too long; she could not be sure she could stay a widow forever. Yet, if she, a young and unblemished woman, were to remarry and become a second wife, it would be a great loss.

Now, with her father-in-law’s promise, she at least had a path of retreat.

Lost in thought, she was interrupted as Steward Song Tongshan, having settled Master Song in his room, returned with a smile. "Young mistress, the laborers Master requested have arrived."

"Bring them in," she replied.

...

Outside the Song mansion...

Foreman Xu watched as the doorman went to announce their arrival, then turned to the eight porters behind him and reminded them once more, "The Song family has business dealings with our Redwater Society. When you go inside, remember to speak little and work hard, understand?"

He was merely a minor leader under the Redwater Society, a man of the lower classes, while Master Song was a wealthy and influential gentleman who could converse with the society's leader as an equal. Naturally, he had to tread carefully.

"We understand," Liu Shen and the other porters nodded respectfully. They knew the importance of the occasion.

Xu was about to admonish them further when the gates of the Song house swung open, and he swallowed his words.

Forcing a smile, he stepped forward to greet Steward Song Tongshan. "Steward Song, I, Xu, have brought the men as requested."

Song Tongshan glanced at him, then looked over the porters—each carrying poles and hemp ropes—and nodded. "Come in."

Xu waved to his men to follow, then walked alongside the steward, making small talk in hopes of currying favor.

"Tsk tsk tsk," Hu Dahai clicked his tongue, sidling up to Liu Shen. "Shen, just look at this world—we're nothing to Xu except when he needs us. Now he's all smiles, nearly sticking to the steward like glue."

Liu Shen merely smiled, saying nothing. He understood well; the world always divided people into ranks, some high, some low, though all were human.

For example, his own indenture was still in the hands of the Canal Guild...

He had put aside the burdens of his two lives, but that didn’t mean he accepted his fate. On the contrary, having seen the world’s harshness, he longed to climb upward.

Longed for it deeply!

Xu, accustomed to dealing with all sorts of people at the bottom, was adept at flattery, adapting his words to suit his audience. His ingratiating words made Steward Song Tongshan quite pleased.

One does not strike a smiling face; thus, the steward treated him amicably. At the ancestral hall, Song introduced, "Young mistress, this is Foreman Xu of the Redwater Society, who brought the laborers for this task."

He then turned to Xu, "This is our young mistress. The master has retired; she will be in charge."

"Ah..." Xu stared at the young mistress, Adam’s apple bobbing, and hastily bowed. "Greetings, young mistress."

A greedy, lecherous man, Xu was nearly entranced by the beautiful, dignified young widow before him.

Page 3 of 3

Pei Xueyan paid him no heed, only arching a slender brow as she glanced briefly at him before turning her gaze to the porters behind him.

Among the rough and unseemly lot, she noticed a sturdy, well-featured young man and looked at him a moment longer, though she soon lost interest.

Seeing the young mistress looking at his men, Xu turned and berated them, "Useless lot! Don’t you see the young mistress looking at you? Where are your manners?"

The porters exchanged bewildered looks. When had Xu ever taught them manners? Hadn’t he just told them to keep quiet and work hard?

Liu Shen, sensing Xu’s intent to impress, nudged Hu Dahai and then respectfully greeted, "Greetings, young mistress."

The rest quickly followed suit, bowing in greeting, "Greetings, young mistress."

"No need for formality," Pei Xueyan said, her gaze sweeping briefly over the quick-witted young man before settling on Xu. "Foreman Xu, you know the rules for this job?"

"I do, I do," Xu quickly replied, "Steward Song has already explained: the statue will be covered, eight men will carry it out of the city, and it mustn’t touch the ground once it leaves the hall, all the way out."

"As long as you know," Pei Xueyan nodded. "This Bodhisattva statue is heavy. The old master said it took a third-realm martial artist to bring it here. Are you sure your eight men can manage?"

Martial prowess was highly esteemed; the path of the warrior had nine realms, each divided into five stages, symbolizing ultimate mastery—not imperial rank, but the pinnacle of cultivation.

The first three realms focused on training muscles, skin, and bone—attainable through diligence and proper methods, known as the acquired realms. The fourth through sixth refined the blood and organs, requiring talent and luck—the innate realms, where fortune was essential. The seventh through ninth were nearly godlike, rarely seen in the world, beyond the reach of most.

Xu, familiar with the gap between ordinary men and warriors, felt uneasy seeing the statue, nearly as tall as a man even while seated. When Steward Song told him it weighed three or four thousand catties, he had downplayed it as a mere one or two thousand to make it easier to recruit workers—the difference was two or threefold!

Still, a seasoned operator, Xu patted his chest confidently. "Don’t worry, young mistress. These men are all strong hands from the Redwater Society. At the docks, they carry sacks of over a hundred catties three at a time without breaking a sweat."

He paused, then added, "Eight men can handle the statue. Carrying it out of the city without it touching the ground will be tiring, but manageable."

"Good, then I leave it to you," Pei Xueyan said. "Thank you for your trouble."

"You’re too kind," Xu replied, then reminded her, "Young mistress, these men are rough fellows, and it’s a hot August night. Their coarse hemp clothes are stifling, and they’re used to working bare-chested. Perhaps you’d prefer to step aside, so as not to offend your eyes?"

"Yes, young mistress..." Steward Song, who had been to the docks, agreed, "Perhaps you should step out—I'll oversee things here."

"It’s nothing," Pei Xueyan waved off their concerns. "I’m not so delicate. Do your work as you need; don’t mind me."

Xu and the steward exchanged glances; seeing him nod slightly, Xu turned to his men. "Get your tools ready—it’s time to work!"