A Twisted Love Affair-Chapter 199: On the Edge of the Unattainable, My Heart Itches (4)_1
What Shen Jing had not expected was that the monastery would be closed tomorrow. She asked the Abbot, who said it was because some VIP was coming for a retreat to copy scriptures, and they needed to clean and close the monastery to welcome them.
What kind of VIP looked down on commoners like her so much that they needed the monastery to be closed?
Shen Jing had paid the accommodation fee. She was devout in her daily worship. Based on this alone, the Abbot would not refund her money and make her leave; it would be against the Buddhist tenet of universal acceptance to do so.
Shen Jing did not ask any further. Since it was a VIP, perhaps it was someone she could not afford to offend. Having stayed in Beijing, she had come to understand one thing: the more low-profile a person, the more dangerous it could be to provoke them. Often, their status was frighteningly imposing.
Sun Qiyan clutched her wrist and led her back to the courtyard. "Alright, let’s go back to the room."
Shen Jing let him lead her but was more concerned about exactly how many days the monastery would be closed. She wanted to eat dumplings with a cabbage filling tomorrow.
「The next day.」
The monastery, aside from a monk sweeping, was deserted; no pilgrims were offering incense.
As dusk fell, a red flag car stopped before the stone steps. The car door opened. Zhou Luchen, single-handedly propping open an umbrella to shield himself from the wind and snow, strode confidently up the steps.
Zhuang Ming, holding Zhou Luchen’s black suit, closed the car door and followed behind him. Zhou Luchen wasn’t afraid of the cold; in fact, he rather enjoyed the chilly breeze. Zhuang Ming didn’t drape the coat over him. Let him freeze a little to sober up; his recent conduct had been outrageous.
It had reached the point where he was reprimanded by the Zhou Family and banished here to the monastery to pray and reflect.
The Abbot, who regularly visited the West District Courtyard to offer Buddhist prayers, had seen Zhou Luchen every year and thus chatted familiarly with him. "Mr. Zhou, everything is ready in the monastery. Please, come in."
Zhou Luchen nodded in acknowledgment.
The Abbot walked with him, describing the layout of the monastery. Passing by the incense cauldron in the courtyard, Zhou Luchen glanced up at the gilded Maitreya Buddha. The offerings here were different from those at Nanhuai Temple.
The Abbot said, "You’ll stay in the East Pavilion. Next to you lives a female devotee who came recently to pray for her family. She mostly burns incense at Janet Hall and rarely comes out for a stroll. She’s not talkative, having spoken only three sentences to me in over ten days. She seems to have something on her mind and is only seeking a quiet place for self-cultivation. She certainly won’t disturb you, so I didn’t ask her to leave. You don’t mind, do you?"
Zhou Luchen slowly closed his umbrella. "No problem."
The Abbot, chanting ’Amitabha,’ led Zhou Luchen to the East Pavilion.
The rebellious young master had violated family rules. The family, supposedly unable to bear seeing him suffer, had sent him here to copy scriptures. Who knew if it was a genuine punishment or just for show? In any case, the young master accepted it readily. Zhuang Ming set up the scriptures and ink for him and would stay with him in the East Pavilion.
「Night fell.」
Shen Jing was staying in the Eastern Second Pavilion. After dinner with Sun Qiyan, she sat in the courtyard making prayer cords. The old Abbot had taught her how. Ever since learning, she had spent her days diligently making them.
"This one’s for you, this one for Grandma, this for Grandpa, and that one for Big Sister," she murmured, her thoughts clearly on her family as she worked. Then, she added one for him.
Sun Qiyan couldn’t help but imagine himself as part of her family. Ultimately, he wasn’t superstitious and didn’t believe in the efficacy of these prayer cords. Yet, when she personally gave him one, his heart was unexpectedly stirred by the simple red cord. He wanted it. He really wanted it. He examined the red cord repeatedly, finding it especially beautiful.
"Thank you."
"Don’t be so formal. We should get to bed early," she said, picking up the box and returning to her room.
Sun Qiyan tucked the red cord into his pocket, his fingertips unconsciously stroking it a couple of times. Smiling, he stood up. "I’ll join you for a run up the back mountain tomorrow morning."
She nodded obediently and closed the door.
Once all the lights in the Second Pavilion were extinguished, Shen Jing rose, dressed, slipped out the back door, and leaned casually against the cool white wall.
She skillfully pulled a pack of Huanghe Building cigarettes from her coat pocket, removed the plastic wrapping, tapped out a cigarette, and placed it between her lips. In an instant, her fingers struck a match, slowly lighting it. Amidst the curling smoke, she lowered her gaze, focusing on the faintly glowing, flickering tip of the cigarette between her fingers.
Xie Qinyang was truly wicked. He had completely corrupted her. But she wasn’t addicted; just occasionally, she would mischievously indulge in the taste of nicotine.
On the other side of the wall, a man also had a cigarette dangling from his lips. He turned his head, struck the flint wheel of a lighter, and lit the premium cigarette he held. Their movements differed, yet they lit their cigarettes at the same instant.
MIAOMIAO.
A cat approached. Shen Jing crouched down, her fingers gently stroking the small cat the Abbot kept.
It was a bit thin. Perhaps it was on a vegetarian diet here at the temple. She missed her sister’s cat, which was round and plump, its fur white and shiny. Last month, she had returned to Shanghai to dine with her grandmother but hadn’t visited Yunding. She didn’t like Yunding. A bad man had given her a bad cat, and it was so expensive to keep.
MIAOMIAO.
Zhou Luchen could faintly hear a cat’s delicate meows from behind the white wall, as if it were being comfortably petted. The wall was very high, with no passage through. He was somewhat curious if the cat next door resembled the one from Yunding.
Snow fell silently, dusting his brow. He frowned slightly, pinched the cigarette butt between his thumb and forefinger, removed it to flick off the ash, and then looked up.
「Deep into the night.」
This was the fourth day since Zhou Luchen had returned to Beijing, and his sleep schedule still hadn’t adjusted. Unable to sleep, he would lean against the wall at night, smoking one cigarette after another. After extinguishing the glowing embers with the sole of his shoe, he would stroll back to his room.
In the latter half of every night, he would sit at the writing desk, dipping his brush in ink and diligently copying from a thick volume of Tripiṭaka scriptures.
Zhuang Ming stood outside the window, peering at the light inside the room. The mistake the Second Master had made this time was grave. He had been too insidious, provoking the fury of the entire Zhou family. Yet, the Second Lady had secretly approved of the Second Master’s actions. Protective of him, she had merely punished him symbolically. This was to prevent anything more severe from the First Lady should he return to Shanghai before her anger had subsided. The Second Lady’s status still carried weight in this place. Outsiders all said that the only one in this lifetime who could manage the Second Lady was this grandson, who wasn’t even related to her by blood. Lucky him; everyone doted on him.
「Before dawn,」 he had finished copying a volume, his calligraphy strong and graceful. Zhuang Ming quickly entered the room to gather the pages, intending to personally deliver them back to the West District Courtyard.
Zhou Luchen rubbed his temples and leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes to rest. The aroma of what seemed to be vegetarian cabbage dumplings cooking in the neighboring courtyard drifted over with the cold wind, smelling quite enticing. Zhou Luchen glanced down at his wristwatch: 5 a.m. sharp.
He had no idea who lived next door. These days, their three meals a day were served with extreme punctuality. They probably had obsessive-compulsive disorder.
When Zhuang Ming returned to the temple, he brought pastries and medicinal congee made by Uncle Li. "The Second Lady said that since the weather is cold, this is to nourish your body," Zhuang Ming relayed.
Zhou Luchen sat before the window, cradling a delicate celadon bowl. He took a spoonful, tasted it, and then set it aside.
The Spotted Li Cat must have slipped through a small opening somewhere; it jumped onto the windowsill, meowing. Just yesterday, he had seen this same cat, filthy and its fur matted. Now, it seemed someone had bathed it; its variegated fur looked much more presentable.
Zhou Luchen gestured to Zhuang Ming. Zhuang Ming found an empty bowl, poured some congee into it, and placed it on the windowsill. "Did your neighbor not give you any dumplings?" he murmured to the cat.
MIAOMIAO.
The cat ate, vigilantly watching Zhou Luchen. It was a cat unafraid of strangers, possessing a wilder nature than the timid, cowardly cat at Yunding. Whenever it encountered people, it would act pitifully to beg for food.
Zhou Luchen put down his bowl and spoon, picked up a piece of milk-skin pastry, and placed it in the cat’s bowl. "I have one at home too," he said, almost to himself. "She wastes over a hundred thousand a month. So spoiled and arrogant, always putting on airs. Nothing pleases her. She’d rather starve than deign to beg anyone for a bite."
The Spotted Li Cat took a bite, then lifted its head to lick its whiskers. MIAOMIAO.
Zhuang Ming stood tall, solemnly watching the Second Master talk to himself. If that expensive Ragdoll cat from Yunding knew that the stray cats outside didn’t even eat as well as she did, would she still throw such tantrums every day?
