Transmigrating to the Qi Family - Chapter 185

At the base of the cliff, where the carriage has fallen, all the vegetation is already cleared away. Judging by the traces around the area, people seem to visit here every year to pay their respects.

The monks from Tzu Chi Temple arrange the tools needed for the ritual one by one, then light candles and incense, distributing them to those present.

After Master Wuchen leads everyone in worship, he has them sit in a lotus formation. For Buddhists, the lotus holds profound significance, including the legend of the deceased riding a lotus to the afterlife.

In the tranquil mountain forest, the crisp sound of wooden fish echoes alongside the monks from Tzu Chi Temple chanting the Rebirth Sutra. The scripture reverberates through the forest, entwining with the smoke and ashes of the burnt memorial offerings, carrying boundless faith skyward, delivering the worldly attachments and grief of the living to those in another world.

…

“Master, have you been here before to perform rituals?”

After the ceremony ends, Jiang Miao can’t help but ask as he notices the monks deftly packing up. This place is not particularly close to Tzu Chi Temple, and it is rare for anyone to venture to the foot of the cliff. If they haven’t been here before, how can they be so familiar with the terrain?

Master Wuchen replies, “When we first hear about this incident, I lead the monks of the temple here to conduct a ritual for the deceased benefactors. Later, someone donates incense money to the temple and requests that we perform a ritual here every year on the anniversary, burning more joss paper to console the departed souls.”

“So that’s how it is. No wonder it feels so familiar!” Jiang Miao exclaims. It is no surprise that the traces of offerings don’t surprise the monks—after all, they are responsible for them.

“What’s going on?” Pei Che walks over. After the ritual ends, he goes somewhere, and now, having just returned, he overhears Jiang Miao’s comment.

“I’m saying that the monks are very familiar with this place. It turns out they come here every year to perform a ritual for your parents. It’s probably a request from your grandmother, right?” Jiang Miao casually speculates.

Pei Che frowns at this, sensing something amiss. His grandmother isn’t even willing to reveal the location, so why would she instruct the monks of Tzu Chi Temple to perform an annual ritual here? Besides, his grandmother has always regarded Mu’er, whom she brought back from the temple, as the embodiment of a mountain spirit or demon and has naturally harbored no goodwill toward the temple. If anything, she probably wishes the temple never existed.

But if it isn’t his grandmother, who could it be? Could it be his maternal grandfather and their family?

“What’s wrong?” Jiang Miao sighs and waves a hand in front of Pei Che’s face. Recently, Pei Che often seems lost in thought.

“My grandmother couldn’t have instructed the temple to do this,” Pei Che says, then turns to Master Wuchen. “Master Wuchen, do you remember who paid for the temple to perform these rituals?”

Master Wuchen thinks for a moment and replies, “It’s been many years since this matter began. I truly can’t recall who first entrusted the temple with this task. However, the temple keeps records. Once I return, I’ll ask Yuanxin to search for it. We should know once we find it.”

“Thank you, Master.”

Jiang Miao listens to their conversation and feels that something is amiss. Judging by Pei Che’s expression, he seems wary of the person who has paid for the rituals. Why is that? Logically, only someone close to the family would spend money on having monks perform such rituals, right?

Not long after they return to the temple, Yuanxin arrives at the guestroom door with a ledger in hand. Jiang Miao opens the door and hears Yuanxin say, “Amitabha. Benefactor Jiang, the abbot asks me to bring this to you.”

“Thank you, Little Monk.” Jiang Miao accepts the old, musty ledger with a smile.

Yuanxin smiles in return. “No need to be so polite, Benefactor Jiang. The vegetarian dishes you teach us are delicious. We haven’t even thanked you yet.”

Jiang Miao replies, “It’s nothing. I’ll teach you another dish tonight.”

Yuanxin’s eyes light up with anticipation. Being younger than most of the monks in the temple, he seems a bit more lively.

After watching Yuanxin leave, Jiang Miao brings the ledger into the room and hands it to Pei Che, who is standing by the table writing. “Ah Che, Master Wuchen asks Yuanxin to bring this over. Do you want to look at it now?”

Pei Che immediately puts down his pen, says “Yes,” and takes the ledger to examine it. The ledger appears to be a record book from the temple, documenting donations and rituals. This particular one covers July, likely the month after Pei Che’s parents’ accident when someone donates a large sum for rituals.

Pei Che opens the book and carefully scans each line. Before long, his eyes stop on a specific entry and don’t move for a long time.

Curious, Jiang Miao leans over and sees that the ledger, poorly stored over the years, has become water-damaged, rendering some of the handwriting illegible. After studying it for a while, Jiang Miao can barely make out the name “Zhao Wei.” Following the name are several lines of text, though the faded ink makes them difficult to read.

Jiang Miao squints for a long time before deciphering that on July 16, Zhao Wei donates 500 taels of silver for incense and requests that the abbot perform an annual ritual at the site where Pei Che’s parents die.

“Is this Zhao Wei a relative of yours?” Jiang Miao asks. Although he has married into Pei Che’s family, he only knows the Pei and Feng families. As for someone with the surname Zhao, he has no impression whatsoever.

Pei Che replies, “We don’t have any relatives with the surname Zhao.”

“If not a relative, could it be a friend?” Jiang Miao guesses.

“A friend that generous must be a close one. But I’ve never heard my parents mention this person’s name, nor did I see them at their funeral.”

“That’s strange! If they’re neither a relative nor a friend, why would they do something like this?” Jiang Miao is utterly confused.

“There’s another type of person who might do this,” Pei Che says, his gaze turning cold. “The one who caused their deaths.”

Jiang Miao jumps in shock. “The one who caused their deaths? Wasn’t it an accident?”

Pei Che replies, “I start suspecting otherwise when my grandmother’s attitude toward my second uncle’s family abruptly changes. Today, after the ritual, I go to the top of the cliff to take a look. According to the guards’ accounts, it’s raining heavily when my parents pass through this area. The carriage they are in is struck by a tree that rolls down from the mountain, sending it over the edge. But I find blade marks on one of the trees nearby.”

It is a large tree with lush foliage and a sturdy trunk, full of vitality. The only blemish is a deep blade mark on its main trunk. The sight of it stirs suspicions in Pei Che, making him believe that the event years ago might not be as simple as it seems. The fallen tree, he thinks, must be part of a hidden conspiracy.

“You mean, someone cuts down the tree to make it fall, intentionally crashing into your parents’ carriage and pushing it off the cliff? That’s way too precise, isn’t it?” Jiang Miao finds it hard to believe. Pulling off something like that would require uncanny calculation.

“I think so too, but when you put all the clues together, it clearly points to the fact that my parents’ deaths aren’t accidental,” Pei Che says. Though his expression remains calm, the bulging veins on his clenched fists betray his true feelings.

“You mentioned that your grandmother’s attitude toward your second uncle’s family changes. Does that mean their deaths are somehow connected to them?” Jiang Miao ventures boldly.

Pei Che shakes his head. “You don’t know my grandmother. If they’re truly involved in my parents’ deaths, they’d already be locked up, awaiting punishment. My grandmother must know something but lacks the evidence to prove it. That’s why she shows no warmth toward my second uncle’s family, who have benefited so much.”

“Then right now, Zhao Wei seems to be the key to all of this.”

But in this era, finding someone with just a name is like searching for a needle in a haystack—one step short of impossible.