Chapter Fifty-Seven: Who Is the Old Friend of the Mistress of Serene Heart Nunnery?

(1/3)

“What does the abbess mean…?” Shui Ruolan’s voice trembled slightly.

“What triggered it? Does this happen every year?” Qin Wanru, suppressing her sorrow, sharply seized on the implication of her words.

“In previous years, it should have been accidentally triggered as well. Each time, it would flare up after autumn came and the weather turned cold. Partly, it’s because your grandmother’s body can’t endure the chill—her age is one factor, but there’s another. There’s a certain herb that blooms in autumn, and its pollen is a major cause of your grandmother’s illness.”

The abbess of Jingxin Nunnery paused. At first, she hadn’t wanted to confide in these two: one was a niece who had no say in household matters, the other such a young granddaughter. These words were hardly meant for them. But seeing their genuine concern for the old lady, she decided to reveal the truth.

“What kind of flower or herb?” Shui Ruolan, forgetting her grief, asked urgently.

“It’s a plant called bluequill, which produces small flowers in autumn. I previously mentioned this to General Qin and his wife, and even drew a picture. Later, Lady Di said there was no such plant in the estate, so I assumed it was simply your grandmother’s old age. But this time, I am certain—bluequill is the culprit, and in no small amount. Otherwise the attack wouldn’t have been so sudden or severe.”

After a brief pause, the abbess confided honestly.

“So someone must have been carrying something made with its pollen?” Shui Ruolan’s face paled as she realized the implication.

“That is most likely the case.” The abbess nodded. “In past years, the old lady would fall ill, but never this abruptly or severely. Since you two are by her side, you must be even more careful during her recovery. There is no bluequill here at the nunnery, but we can’t guarantee others don’t have it.”

“Does bluequill have a scent?” Qin Wanru’s mind seemed to catch on something.

“To those not sensitive to it, it smells of nothing—no different from any ordinary plant. But for patients like your grandmother, her body reacts early to its presence, triggering her illness, though she herself wouldn’t notice. If tasted, bluequill is slightly bitter,” the abbess explained.

Qin Wanru’s hand trembled. A memory flashed through her mind—a sachet, one she’d seen every year. So familiar, because she’d seen it so often. It had no particular scent, but Lady Di was never one for frugality.

She was the eldest daughter of the Yongkang Earl’s household, always attentive to food, clothing, and accessories. Even in Jiangzhou, far from the capital, she insisted on extravagance: never wearing old clothes, always commissioning new jewelry, maintaining the dignity of a noblewoman even after marriage.

She was unique in all of Jiangzhou for this. For such a woman to wear the same sachet year after year—on reflection, it always appeared just after the start of autumn.

“If Grandmother, in her current condition, breathes in the scent of bluequill again, what will happen?” Qin Wanru forced herself to ask, struggling to keep her voice steady.

“If that scent returns to her side now, with her present health… I fear…” The abbess’s expression grew grave.

Qin Wanru’s hand shook violently. Another memory surfaced: in her previous life, when her grandmother died, Lady Di also wore that familiar sachet at her waist. She had worn it not only in Jiangzhou, but even in the capital. For a woman of her temperament, this clearly indicated something was amiss.

A chill surged through Qin Wanru’s heart, spreading to her limbs. In that instant, she felt as though she were submerged in ice.

So her grandmother’s death was not simply fate, but Lady Di’s doing. She had overlooked such a crucial clue in her past life. Her hand, hidden in her sleeve, trembled, then clenched tight. Lady Di was as vicious as she’d feared.

In this life, she would never let her go unpunished!

“Can the scent cling to clothes or other accessories?” Qin Wanru finally found her voice, her long lashes quivering to conceal the sorrow in her eyes.

Her grandmother had left her so early, all because of Lady Di’s scheming. At that time, with unrest at the borders, her father had led troops away. With her grandmother dead, a general would naturally be stripped of his command if he returned home to mourn, losing his position. The old lady had died quietly, leaving Lady Di in sole control of the general’s household.

All of this was the result of Lady Di’s malice.

(2/3)

Gentle, virtuous, dignified—she had deceived everyone’s eyes…

Qin Wanru keenly sensed a vital point: this sudden plot must have been triggered because Grandmother had protected her so fiercely this time!

Lady Di’s carelessness had revealed her hand; had things gone as in previous years, with the illness coming on gradually each autumn, no one would have suspected her.

“The scent dissipates quickly in the wind. If someone only wore clothes or accessories that had been exposed to it, it would have little effect—and wouldn’t cause an acute attack. Only a high concentration would do that. Of course, for someone already very frail, even a little could be hard to bear,” the abbess said, shaking her head.

So, it was indeed the sachet! And now, it was urgent—they could not let Lady Di get near Grandmother again!

“Abbess, what should we do now?” Qin Wanru steadied herself and asked.

“There’s nothing for it but to nurse her slowly back to health, and above all, ensure she never comes into contact with that scent again. Jingxin Nunnery has nothing of the sort, but…” The abbess trailed off, but her meaning was clear. She had always been on good terms with the old lady, so there were things she could say.

“Don’t worry, Abbess. I will watch over Aunt closely and thoroughly inspect everything she uses. I won’t allow such a scent near her,” Shui Ruolan, recovering from her shock, replied with conviction.

“It’s not just the old lady’s food and belongings—anyone approaching her must be checked,” the abbess reminded her.

“I understand. Thank you, Abbess.” Shui Ruolan bowed respectfully, her eyes grave as she straightened.

Though she didn’t know the full truth, the exchange between the abbess and Qin Wanru made much clear. She drew a deep breath, her resolve hardening.

She could not spend the rest of her life secluded in the family’s ancestral hall. She still had her aunt and Wanru—one old, one young—both needing her protection. Her status was owed to her by Lady Di; even if that woman refused to acknowledge it, she would claim it for herself.

Thus, the inner household of the Ningyuan General’s residence settled at the Jingxin Nunnery.

Because of the old lady’s illness, she needed a tranquil place to recover, so was given the quietest incense chamber, far from the rooms of the Qin sisters. The old lady’s intention was not to disturb their rest. Shui Ruolan moved directly into the old lady’s quarters, joining Nurse Duan and Qu Xiang in caring for her.

Anyone wishing to approach the old lady now had to pass through Shui Ruolan.

Every time Qin Yuru visited, she would merely ask a few questions from the doorway; the old lady never let her in. Only when Qin Wanru arrived would the old lady invite her inside, and the two would speak amicably. After a few days at the nunnery, it was clear the old lady was much improved.

As her health returned, she didn’t want to keep Qin Wanru and Shui Ruolan tied to her side, so the abbess arranged another incense chamber for Shui Ruolan, next to Qin Wanru’s room, so she no longer had to watch over the old lady every night and could roam about during the day.

With the old lady’s condition improving, Shui Ruolan and Qin Wanru could relax a little, visiting her in turns, one in the morning and one in the afternoon.

One day, as Qin Wanru was returning from her grandmother’s, the abbess summoned her to the meditation room.

“Second Miss Qin, how did you fare in the matter I asked you to look into?” the abbess inquired.

“About the medicine last time?” Qin Wanru lifted her arm—after all this time, her wound had almost entirely healed, and it barely hurt.

“Yes,” the abbess said, her gaze distant.

“It wasn’t my grandmother who applied the medicine; it was…” Qin Wanru hesitated. She couldn’t let anyone know about Chu Liuchen.

“It was someone else, but he doesn’t want anyone to know about him,” she replied vaguely, not willing to lie but unable to speak plainly.

(3/3)

“He… is still the same kind of person,” the abbess murmured, lowering her head with a bitter smile.

“You know him?” Qin Wanru was taken aback, surprise flickering in her eyes. She hadn’t expected the abbess to know Chu Liuchen.

“What if I do?” The abbess’s voice was tinged with bitterness. “So many years have passed, I don’t even know how he is now. But, since that powder was his, I suppose he’s doing well enough—well enough to meddle in others’ affairs!”

Qin Wanru suddenly wondered if the abbess was mistaken. “So many years” didn’t seem to describe Chu Liuchen—he was only fourteen or fifteen.

“Abbess, who is it you know?” Qin Wanru blinked, puzzled.

“Never mind. It makes little difference whether I mention him or not.” The abbess sighed, then looked up, her expression gentle, as if she’d let the matter go.

“The person you know isn’t a teenager?” Qin Wanru’s curiosity was piqued.

“How could he be a teenager?” the abbess exclaimed.

“But the one I met was a teenage boy!” Qin Wanru realized they were not talking about the same person.

“Then perhaps he’s that man’s disciple?” The abbess’s face brightened. “Could you bring him to see me?”

“I’m afraid that’s not possible.” Qin Wanru hesitated. She couldn’t decide for Chu Liuchen, and besides, who knew if he was still in her family’s rear courtyard.

“Well, never mind then.” The abbess sighed. “Let’s leave it to fate.”

Seeing she didn’t want to pursue the topic, Qin Wanru obediently changed the subject. “Abbess, where is Master Mingqiu? I haven’t seen her lately.”

Qin Wanru had searched for Master Mingqiu several times over the past few days, but always in vain.

“She went traveling a few days ago and hasn’t returned yet. I’m not sure where she went,” the abbess replied, massaging her brow in resignation. Her junior, though nominally of the nunnery, rarely stayed long.

“Do you know when she’ll be back?” Qin Wanru asked.

“It’s hard to say. Perhaps today, perhaps tomorrow, or even next spring,” the abbess replied.

“Could you ask her to return sooner?” Qin Wanru pleaded.

“Why do you wish to see my junior?” the abbess asked curiously.

“I want to study medicine with Master Mingqiu,” Qin Wanru confessed. In her past life, she’d lost this opportunity; in this life, she would not let it slip away.

She was determined to learn medicine from Master Mingqiu…