Married to a Villainous Minister - Chapter 148

“Meng… Yujiao.” The man spoke the name with a lazy, feminine coldness. A trace of warmth flickered in his narrow, icy phoenix eyes, but it vanished just as quickly.

That girl… he should never have let her change her name back then. Now, just hearing it grated on his ears.

“What’s strange about her?” He asked casually, slightly turning his body as he questioned the black-clad man.

“She was purchased by the Yu family to be Young Master Yu’s bride to ward off bad luck,” the man in black reported. “Maybe she despised his sickly condition and tried to crawl into the bed of his cousin instead. The Yu family didn’t want a scandal, so they kept it quiet and let her stay.”

The man in black paused, then added, “I investigated, Meng Yujiao had no medical skills before. But after that failed attempt, she suddenly became an excellent healer. She’s cured quite a few illnesses and is now a well-known female doctor in Qingyu Village.”

The man narrowed his dazzling phoenix eyes, interest flickering in their depths. His cold, pale hand brushed away a stray lock of hair at his temple. His tone was languid and soft, almost androgynous.

“That’s all?”

A cold sweat broke out on the back of the kneeling man in black. He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing nervously. “Th-that’s all.”

The man raised an eyebrow. He remembered teaching her medicine once, she had been clumsy and slow-witted, not even a tenth as talented as that person. If she truly cured Yu Qizhe’s poison, it was simply impossible.

“How are things in the capital?” He asked next.

The question slightly eased the pressure in the air. The man in black, feeling like he had barely escaped suffocation, quickly answered, “Shen Tian and Liu Zheng quarreled in court over who should appoint the examiner for the upcoming provincial and metropolitan exams. The Emperor got so annoyed that he hasn’t held court for five days and has secluded himself in the harem and Fengtian Hall, practicing Daoism. A few days ago, he even asked when Lord Cheng would return. The Grand Secretariat is backed up with memorials.”

“Those two old fools are making trouble for His Majesty again,” the man sneered. “No wonder they’re fighting to push their own people as examiners. New scholars without backing can be easily recruited as their protégés. Quite the clever ploy.”

In all the realm, aside from the Emperor himself, only Lord Cheng dared to refer to Shen Tian and Liu Zheng with such flippancy.

Still kneeling, the man in black cautiously continued, “There’s one more thing to report. Vice Minister of Revenue, Fan Zeng, sent a woman to your estate outside the palace.”

“A woman?” The man’s eyes narrowed, a cold gleam flashing in their depths. Fan Zeng was from Shen Tian’s faction. Sending him a woman was obviously a bribe for support regarding the examiners. But he had no interest in women!

This attempt to curry favor only touched his bottom line.

“You were away from the capital, and your staff didn’t dare accept her without orders. Fan Zeng took her back but left behind a portrait. He said if you found her interesting, you could keep her as a little amusement.”

The black-clad man pulled a scroll from his sleeve and respectfully presented it.

The man lowered his eyes to the scroll, an irritated expression crossing his elegant, androgynous features. His long eyes shimmered with a chilling coldness. After a moment, he lazily reached out and untied the ribbon holding the scroll closed.

As the painting slowly unfurled, revealing a familiar face, his expression changed. His eyes darkened, and he suddenly sat upright, snatching the scroll from the black-clad man’s hands and carefully rolling it open completely.

On the white canvas was a woman with a slender waist, turning back with a radiant, serene smile that nearly seared his eyes. His fingers trembled as they traced the painting’s features, his heart shaken.

The black-clad man hadn’t expected such a reaction. Not daring to look further, he bowed low until his head nearly touched the floor.

The man closed his eyes, tightening his grip on the scroll. After steadying his emotions, he said in a deep voice, “Tell Fan Zeng to send that woman to the estate.”

“Yes, I’ll send the message immediately,” the man in black replied respectfully.

The man then gently laid the scroll on the table and added, “Make arrangements for Huijue’s funeral. Don’t let Lu Jin or Yu Qizhe notice anything. We will return to the capital tomorrow.”

“At once,” the man in black said, bowing as he exited the meditation room. His heart was stirred, he had guessed right by delivering that painting. Lord Cheng had only taken one look before deciding to return to the capital. That woman’s fate was now entirely changed, she had caught the eye of Lord Cheng.

At dawn, the great bell of Fahua Temple tolled. Its deep, resonant chimes echoed across half of Mount Chile, lingering in the air.

Lu Jin was startled awake by the sound. He threw on his outer robe and rushed out, not even pausing to inform the family who had given him shelter for the night.

Using his internal energy, he raced up the mountain. What normally took an hour, he crossed in less than thirty minutes. By the time he reached the temple gates, he was gasping.

The vermillion doors were tightly shut, but from inside, he could clearly hear monks chanting the Rebirth Sutra, solemn, mournful. When the bell first tolled, he had already sensed something was wrong, but a sliver of hope had remained.

He raised his hand and knocked hard on the door. The thick, red wood seemed to divide two different worlds. He knocked until his hand went numb before a young monk finally opened the gate.

“What’s the bell for?” Lu Jin demanded, his face full of urgency.

The young monk’s eyes were red. “Brother Lu… Abbot Huijue has passed.”

Though Lu Jin had feared as much, hearing it confirmed still struck him like lightning. He staggered, forcing himself to stay calm as he stepped inside the temple.

The cremation ceremony was underway. Led by the head monk, the monks chanted the Rebirth Sutra while circling the pyre with ritual implements. The flames roared, so intense the body on the pyre could no longer be seen.

Lu Jin had arrived too late. He had not even seen Master Huijue’s face one last time.

“Master… I’m too late…” he stumbled forward a few steps and dropped to his knees before the pyre, sobbing uncontrollably.

The monks continued their chants with calm, peaceful expressions, none pausing to console him.

It wasn’t until the fire had died down that the abbot approached and gently laid a hand on Lu Jin’s head. With kind eyes, he said, “Zhanjin, you have already entered the secular world, but you were once taught by our order. Do not grieve so deeply.”

Lu Jin, dazed and exhausted from crying, looked up. “Did Master pass peacefully?”

The abbot nodded with serene composure. “Master Huijue’s passing was not death, it was his journey to the Western Paradise. Your sorrow and tears may disturb his soul and hinder his journey there.”

Lu Jin wiped the tears from his face. Having grown up in the temple and heard much Dharma, he knew well, mourning aloud was not allowed when a revered monk passed.