The Second Calamity at Sixteen

“What kind of woman do you think she was?” Mingyue leaned over the railing of the lakeside pavilion, tossing pebbles one by one into the water, her eyes following the spreading ripples. “She could be as fragile as duckweed, or as flamboyant as fire. If I ever get the chance, I’d like to see her in person. But unfortunately… I can’t ask Jun Xiao, and Jun Yi is even more impossible. So, is Mister Gu the only one left?” Qin Shi responded softly.

Before long, footsteps approached. After Mingyue had thrown her last stone, she dusted off her clothes and stood up, soon spotting Jun Xiao striding toward them. Mingyue had expected to see a maid following behind, but instead, there were two disciples in blue and white—one man and one woman. Mingyue and Qin Shi recognized the man from before.

“Mistress Mingyue, thank you for waiting.”

“It’s nothing, we haven’t been waiting long.”

Jun Xiao motioned for them to be seated. Mingyue and Qin Shi took their places beside him. Shortly after, several maids entered the pavilion, placing wine and dishes before them. Once everything was arranged, Jun Xiao spoke, “Please, make yourself at home. I merely wished to express my gratitude. It was reckless of us at Junzitang to act without giving you time to consider.”

“Is the Hall Master saying there’s still a chance for me to regret and leave?”

Jun Xiao paused, forcing a stiff smile. “You jest. Since Qingyi passed, I’ve been mired in the past, disappointing my elders and the many disciples who follow me. It’s been half a year—it’s time I moved on.”

“But once the Reminiscence Bind is planted, you’ll have no feelings for her. She’ll be nothing but a stranger. The events between you might leave you puzzled, or even amused… but you won’t be touched at all.” Mingyue doubted aloud. Jun Xiao was not Wen Yan, who had made a promise to Wang Huan and was thus compelled. Jun Xiao still had a choice.

Jun Xiao lowered his gaze, lifting the wine cup from the stone table. “If I were not Jun Xiao, I would never choose to forget a single thing about her. But life leaves no room for so many ‘if onlys’… At the very least, I will still remember her, won’t I? Even if the tears and laughter are faded, she still lives in my memory. That is enough.”

Mingyue fell silent. If not for Wen Yan’s experience, she might have accepted his words. But Wen Yan had taught her that forgetting such love inevitably meant losing something else as well. She might not know what it was, but one day, it would show in those at the heart of the story. Mingyue glanced at Jun Xiao’s solemn features. Could he truly bear it?

A hush fell over the pavilion.

Until a startled exclamation broke the silence. “Aren’t you that guest of Second Master Jun?”

Mingyue looked embarrassed, lowering her eyes. “Yes, Ah Yuan, do you still remember me?”

“Ah Yuan has a good memory, of course I do,” Ah Yuan replied proudly.

His interruption dispelled the earlier gloom. Jun Xiao said, “Let’s dine together. Our cook at Junzitang may not be the best, but he’s certainly among the tops in Shu Prefecture. I only worry you might not be used to the local flavors.”

“You’re too modest, Hall Master. I think our cook is the very best,” Ah Yuan put in.

Mingyue opened her mouth but found nothing to say, so she simply picked up her chopsticks and ate in silence. The cuisine of Shu Prefecture was indeed a challenge for her. During her first days, every meal led to either stomach upset or toothache. Only later did she begin to adapt. Yet she noticed that Qin Shi showed no discomfort at all. Mingyue paused—was he perhaps a local?

After lunch, Mingyue took her leave and went to find the proprietor of the Ancient Painting Studio. Now, only he could tell her Qingyi’s story, and he would not be easily persuaded. She thought it best to start working on him early.

Sure enough, when Gu Qianrun saw Mingyue and Qin Shi again, his thick brows furrowed at once. “What brings you two here again?”

“We came to ask you for a story, sir.”

“What story?”

Mingyue replied carefully, “Qingyi’s story.”

At her words, Gu Qianrun’s expression changed drastically. He made to close the door. Mingyue braced herself against it, but to her surprise, Gu Qianrun, though he looked slight, had no lack of strength.

“Aren’t you going to help?” Mingyue glared at Qin Shi, who finally reached over and pushed back against the bamboo doors, keeping them from closing.

Mingyue turned and smiled at Gu Qianrun, “Please don’t worry, sir. We really aren’t here on behalf of Second Master Jun, just as I said this morning. We only want to know what happened back then.”

“Who told you the name ‘Qingyi’?”

Mingyue considered, then decided to answer truthfully. “Hall Master Jun Xiao of Junzitang.”

“‘Qingyi’—ha! What a name! He spoke so sweetly back then, but it was all empty words. He claimed to love her, yet wouldn’t even mention her real name!” Gu Qianrun’s voice rose, his hand pointing toward Junzitang, almost spitting with indignation.

Mingyue stepped closer and asked, “What was her real name?” To her, it was possible Jun Xiao hadn’t mentioned it out of concealment, but perhaps he simply didn’t know. If it was the latter, then even if Jun Xiao eventually told the story truthfully, the final Reminiscence Bind would be flawed. Mingyue could not allow her own reputation to be damaged.

Gu Qianrun recoiled when he realized how close Mingyue had come, retreating several steps as if afraid of her proximity.

But Mingyue had no mind for such things. Whether Gu Qianrun liked or disliked her mattered little as long as he gave her the answers she sought. She pressed again, “Sir, what was this lady’s name?”

“If you want to know everything about her, fine. Go to Junzitang and discover the true cause of her death. The doors of my Ancient Painting Studio will always be open to you both—come back when you have an answer, and I will tell you all I know, without reservation!”

This time, it was Mingyue’s turn to frown. “What do you mean, sir? Was Qingyi’s death connected to Junzitang?”

“Death from illness? Was it Jun Xiao who told you that?”

Mingyue pursed her lips but said nothing; it was clear Gu Qianrun already knew the answer. The sudden silence left Mingyue at a loss. She’d expected him to flare up as before, but he merely stood there, unmoving. After a moment, Gu Qianrun shoved Mingyue and Qin Shi out, slamming the bamboo door shut behind them.

Mingyue called through the door, “So as long as we uncover the cause of her death, you’ll tell us, right? You said so yourself, sir!”

Of course, there was no reply. As she turned to leave, Mingyue couldn’t help but murmur, “Why is this getting more complicated? So Qingyi didn’t die of illness? I’m not a constable, and it’s been half a year—how am I supposed to investigate?”

“Judging by the gentleman’s attitude, it likely has something to do with the Jun family. And their behavior toward Qingyi is certainly odd—before, it might have been mere dislike, but now… Jun Xiao either doesn’t know, or he’s lying to protect the family’s reputation. If you find it troublesome, just go back for a few days and say it was related to the Jun family,” Qin Shi replied.

Mingyue glanced at the expressionless Qin Shi and said delightedly, “Guilt or concealment? That could work!”

But she hadn’t expected that as soon as she turned into the alley leading from the Ancient Painting Studio, before she saw a single passerby, a shadow would suddenly fall over her. A strange fragrance entered her nose, and her limbs went weak. She tried to call out, “Qin… Qin Shi…” She had meant to say, “Qin Shi, why aren’t you helping me?” but before she lost consciousness, all she managed was his name.

This time was different—she awoke in pain. Mingyue rubbed her aching neck, the sharp, needling pain far worse than the dull ache from before. Forcing open her bleary eyes, she grumbled, “What did I do to deserve this?”

As her vision cleared, Mingyue’s eyes widened in horror. She tried to scream, but her voice was gone. The room was filled with writhing snakes, tangled together in a mass of blue, green, and other colors—though most were the blue serpents she’d seen before. As she stared, a red snake of considerable size raised its head, tongue flickering, stopping just at the height of her nose.