Chapter 22: The Wedding Garments Became a Soul-Calling Banner

If there is no rain at the start of winter, the season will remain clear—a perfect time for a long journey.

The sun was late in rising, and it would only grow later as the days went on. A cold mist hung like white silk; Tan Jiuding had felt nothing but “dampness” since arriving in Gusu. It was a torment that seeped into one’s very bones, regardless of the crisp autumn air or the onset of winter. For a man raised in the biting cold of the north, he found it difficult to adapt.

Yet, now that it was time to leave, he felt a strange reluctance. Perhaps it was because he had never managed to drink the winter-brewed wine he had been craving?

A corner of his indigo robe fluttered in the wind as he tapped his fingers lightly against his scabbard. The canal transport ship sat like a silent aquatic beast, its mooring ropes taut, ready to depart at a moment’s notice.

The transport supervisor stood on the gangplank with his hands hanging at his sides, accompanying him. He did not know what the Censor-in-chief was waiting for, and he dared not ask, nor did he dare to remind him of the time.

After a while, a sedan chair arrived at a leisurely pace. The bearers, dressed in dark blue riding jackets, crossed their legs to clear the frost from the stone path with light, swift steps.

The corners of Tan Jiuding’s mouth curled up slightly. He stepped off the gangplank himself and approached the chair. “I thought you had changed your mind?”

The supervisor hurried over, stealing glances at the style of the sedan chair, wondering what kind of person could make a Censor-in-chief wait in the cold. With a silver-topped roof and black curtains, carried by men in blue, the occupant’s rank must be high. Was it the relative of some high official?

“Changing clothes took a bit of time.”

The voice was very young. Could it be… the Censor’s own…? *Hiss*, he certainly had a taste for romance, didn’t he?

The supervisor had already mentally composed two versions of a scandalous play, but then the chair tilted slightly, and out stepped a pair of black leather boots. The “young scholar” looked as fresh and delicate as jade pulled from a stream, with a pair of peach-blossom eyes that were both spirited and alluring. If they set their mind to it, would any man, woman, old, or young be able to resist?

The supervisor stared, unable to discern the gender, until a hearty laugh from Tan Jiuding reached his ears.

“Hahaha, you intend to set off in this attire?”

“Is that not allowed?”

The other party dared to retort, but instead of being angry, the Censor only laughed more heartily, adding with infinite indulgence, “Allowed, of course. Everything is as you say. Supervisor Qu?”

“…Ah? Yes, I am here, sir.”

“The people are gathered. Prepare to set sail.”

“Yes, sir! Sailors, attention—verify your tallies and report! Raise the foremast sail—test the rudder!”

“Verify tallies and report!” The commands echoed across the deck. “Raise the foremast sail—test the rudder!”

Tan Jiuding took the bundle and led Xu Qi onto the ship. He could not help but glance at her: she was dressed in a clove-colored silk lined gown, the collar trimmed with silver squirrel fur, and she wore a pair of warm ear-muffs, looking remarkably youthful and charming. At a glance, one would take her for a wealthy young master who had slipped away from his studies to play.

“Why did you decide to dress as a man?”

“It’s convenient.” Xu Qi was concise, though she felt a bit mischievous inside. She certainly wouldn’t admit that she had been stung by that earlier remark about being a “concubine-in-waiting.” She had no intention of repeating that mistake. Besides, she needed to stay by Tan Jiuding’s side, so she might as well disguise herself as a man; if she couldn’t be a traveling companion, being a cousin was better than anything else.

Tan Jiuding leaned in and whispered wickedly into her ear, “But I have heard that many high-class courtesans like to dress as men and address their guests as brothers. Perhaps Supervisor Qu just misunderstood…”

Xu Qi’s face turned bright red. She glared at him in embarrassment and anger, stomping hard on his foot to vent her frustration.

Tan Jiuding did not dodge or flinch, as if he felt no pain, laughing heartlessly all the while. The two of them crossed the short gangplank in high spirits.

The sounds of the shore gradually rose; the wooden wheels creaked as they rolled over the Wukong stone steps, and the wind carried the scent of lard and sesame from a nearby rice cake shop. Xu Qi could not help but look back once.

Although she had left her hometown young and had only returned for a year after growing up, it remained tied to her sense of belonging.

She exhaled a cloud of white mist, filled with complex emotions.

“Someone is coming.”

Just as she was feeling melancholy, she heard the man beside her speak in a low voice. Following his gaze, she saw two familiar figures rushing toward them, though they were being held back by the guards at the edge of the pier.

“Let them through—” Tan Jiuding called out. Before long, the two women reached the gangplank and knelt with a thud.

Xu Qi stepped forward to greet them, urging them to rise. “Gui-niang, why have you come?”

The young girl supporting Gui-niang was the very one who had shamed her by calling her a concubine that day. Now, she looked much more composed, though her face was filled with embarrassment. She answered first, “Yesterday, the magistrate summoned several of us from the village to the office for questioning. When Gui-niang heard that the Censor-in-chief was leaving Suzhou today, she wanted to wait through the night to see you off before returning. We didn’t expect the ship to leave so early, but luckily, we caught you.”

After a few days, Gui-niang’s injuries had healed slightly, but she seemed to have aged significantly.

She respectfully took Xu Qi’s fingertips, as if afraid to dirty her jade-like hands, and carefully pleaded, “We owe our lives to you, Miss, and the Censor-in-chief. Without you two noble people, I fear I would have been killed by Mother Chun long ago. I shouldn't be greedy, but hearing that you are headed to Huai'an, may I beg a personal favor?”

Xu Qi’s heart softened at the sight of her. She blurted out, “Gui-niang, you want us to find out what happened to Yu’er, don’t you?”

“Ah!” The village woman cried out, then suddenly knelt again, knocking her head on the ground. “Yes, please, have mercy. Every family in the village is weeping, all worried about the girls taken away by Mother Chun. Perhaps… perhaps they are already beyond hope, but if it is at all possible…”

“Get up,” Tan Jiuding said, helping them to their feet. “I am patrolling the Southern Zhili region specifically for this matter. Rest assured, we will keep a close watch for any clues.”

“Thank you, noble sir.”

Gui-niang carefully pulled a letter—or rather, a list—from her bosom. “This is a list I asked the village elders to help the affected families compile. It contains the appearance and characteristics of every girl, as well as when they were taken. I hope it proves useful.”

Tan Jiuding took it. “You have been very thoughtful. However, while there is still hope for the kidnapped girls, it is a pity for those who took their own lives. We never did find out why.”

Things never go exactly as planned, especially in investigations. But that did not mean he was used to it. Whenever he encountered an unsolvable mystery or someone suffering an injustice, he still felt a sense of regret.

Unexpectedly, the young girl spoke up, hesitating, “That… I might know why.”

“Oh?”

The three of them looked at her simultaneously, each with their own surprise.

“Tao’er, how do you know?”

“Gui-niang, I heard it from the older sisters, though they are already…” The girl looked sad, her eyes filled with regret, shame, and grief. “They thought I was too young and wouldn’t let me follow, but I heard them—I heard them whispering together about how to leave ‘cleanly’.”

“What does that mean?”

“At first, I didn’t understand. But when Mother Chun gave us lessons, I often heard her lie to us, saying there was a wonderful place with endless sweets and fruits, and silks and satins that never wore out. She said that there, the men…” She shyly glanced at Tan Jiuding and bit her lip. “They all listen to the women, and the women are in charge of everything. But you have to be ‘clean’ to go there…”

Gui-niang scolded her, annoyed, “Silly girl! You believed such things?”

“I… I thought it was ridiculous too, but everyone slowly started to believe it, and somehow, I ended up believing it too…”

Xu Qi seemed to understand that inexplicable feeling. When she held that bowl of poisoned soup, she knew something was wrong, yet the moment she heard Mother Chun speak, she felt muddled and ready to do something foolish.

Thinking about it now, could the hallucinogenic properties have taken effect just from the scent?

“…Later, when the sisters met their fates one after another and Mother Chun died, I started to wonder: did they misunderstand what Mother Chun meant?”

“To leave cleanly…” Xu Qi repeated the words silently and nodded with a bitter smile. “Indeed, Mother Chun fabricated this fairyland to keep them chaste so she could trick them onto the bridal sedan chairs. The girls, ignorant of the truth, believed that once they boarded the chair and were married, they were no longer ‘clean’ and could never reach that place they longed for.”

“That’s it!” The girl clapped her hands. “That’s what I guessed!”

Tan Jiuding furrowed his brows. “A misunderstanding?”

“When Mother Chun bewitched them, she would cook them soup,” Xu Qi explained. “When one is not in their right mind, it is very easy to misinterpret such ambiguous words.”

So that was why the woman named A-Chun had smiled so joyfully when she hanged herself?

The mystery in Xu Qi’s heart was finally solved, but she felt no relief. This answer disgusted her even more than the greedy, kidnapping thieves and Mother Chun.

The bright red bridal robes, hung high, had become death-summoning banners. Five flower-like girls had vanished as lightly as spider silk in the wind.

She was unwilling to accept it; she felt their grievance for them.

And to settle this grievance, she had to ensure that every one of those villains, rotten to the core, was brought to justice.