"Daoist Master Zhuan is your adoptive mother…?" Tao Hua asked, shocked. The naming structure suddenly became apparent—Wu Mi, Weng Jing, and Fang Jian were all disciples under the same master, hence the filial address.
"Yes! Mama was a songstress who found me and Mimi at the brothel! The one close to where she often sang," she said as if Tao Hua had any clue where that was. "We were only young, but sold off by our family to pay a debt. It was a common practice—wait! How does Huahua know Mama?!"
"…It seems everyone here does." Tao Hua side-glanced Weng Jing, who had turned around and kept his face directly aimed at Tao Hua.
Left at odds, Fang Jian tilted her head, perplexed. She turned toward the source of Tao Hua's glance, shouting, "Disgusting! That's not Mama Zhuan, that's Huahua. Mama is a woman, Huahua is a man. Have Brother Jing's eyes really gotten that bad?!"
Perhaps it would have been best to warn her prior, Tao Hua thought, his eyes practically rolling out of his head. Though he did prepare her for Weng Jing's unsavoury reaction, he hadn't mentioned a single thing about the Daoist Master Zhuan confusion.
If he'd known she was her adoptive mother, then he'd of prepared better.
But the situation struck him as odd. Why is this Daoist Master Zhuan tied to everyone in the palace? Was her influence that enormous?
From being Weng Jing's master, to taking two concubines under her wings, to having her life taken by Shan Si. What did she do? And on top of that…Tao Hua felt uncomfortable.
He wasn't at all worthy of being associated with someone like her.
"I'm not…her," Tao Hua whispered through his teeth. Reaching over to Fang Jian's sleeve, he tugged it and pleaded, "Can we focus on why we're here? Please?"
"Oh! Right!" She straightened herself, bringing Tao Hua toward Weng Jing, who still seemed quite lost as to why the pair had even arrived in the first place.
He rose to his feet, horsetail whisk in hand, and sneered, "His Highness banned me from Master Zhuan's orbit, and yet she shows up at my front door making things difficult for this Imperial Preceptor. Surely there has to be a reason? Is Master Zhuan already tired of His Highness's antics, so soon? Though I can't blame Master Zhuan for feeling that way, His Highness is truly a bad omen."
Just as he was about to close the spacious distance between the three, Fang Jian held out her hand ahead of Weng Jing, causing him to stop just before running into it.
"Nope! Huahua is off-limits!" she warned. "If Brother Jing wants to admire him, do it right there! There! We have a few questions."
"Sent to my front door and expected to answer questions?" Weng Jing laughed wryly, turning his head toward Tao Hua. "What use is there of this if I can't share in the profits of…whatever the two of you are conniving?"
Spoken like a terrible Daoist Master—Shan Si was right to say this man wasn't anything, if at all, a Daoist at heart.
Fang Jian's mouth fell open. Angrily, she shouted, "Selfish! Brother Jing is selfish! What would Mama Zhuan think of this?!"
"No more selfish than Sister Jian." He turned his head, the corners of his eyes wrinkling. "Your being here involves something from me. This isn't an unconditional exchange and requires a clear transaction, one that risks this Daoist Master's well-being."
Before Fang Jian could react, Tao Hua squeezed her arm, looked at her, and shook his head. Furrowing her brows, she obliged and took a step back.
Pressing his lips together, he tried to figure out a way to handle the situation. Given all that happened last time, it was to no one's surprise that Weng Jing would be this difficult to handle.
Which only meant that he had to resort to the ploys he hated using.
"It's…about Shan Si," Tao Hua half-heartedly admitted, refusing to look past his own drooping lashes. "This humble subject wishes to hear the Daoist Master's side of things."
Seemed it paid off listening to the servants around him! Titles 101!
Weng Jing pursed his lips, his head moving from Fang Jian to Tao Hua, while patting the horsetail whisk in his hands. After another moment of excruciating silence—silence that almost broke Fang Jian—he finally replied.
"Favour and disgrace would seem to be equally feared. Very well."
He turned away, first placing the horsetail whisk on the altar, then making his way toward a door, placed to the right of the Ancestral Hall. Fang Jian and Tao Hua glanced at each other with both concern and confusion, only for Fang Jian to shrug. She was the first to follow, with Tao Hua in her shadow.
They made their way through the long corridors, toward one of the private wings. He ordered a servant to prepare tea and a blanket, citing that snacking before dinner wasn't in the will of the heavens.
This made Fang Jian pout, grumbling that if they had just stayed back in the library, they'd be happily munching on mooncakes made by Auntie Jue.
But Tao Hua was the opposite of this. He was completely fine with not eating, as the guilt between leaving Qian Jue in a flustered mess and going against Shan Si made his stomach twist terribly.
At this point, knowledge was more valuable than sustenance.
Once they made to a rather empty room, he ushered the two to take a seat on the ground, ahead of the only furniture available: a table. Things happened quickly after that. Servants rushed in the complimentary refreshments, while draping a blanket over Tao Hua's shoulders.
This entire time, Weng Jing kept a respectable distance from Tao Hua, clearly annoyed that he had to rely on his servants to serve the one he deemed worthy of marriage.
Alas, something seemed to prevent him each time from reaching out a hand, and it wasn't the glowering stares of the woman who sat next to Tao Hua, but Weng Jing's own hesitancy.
As if he were actually capable of fear.
Both Fang Jian and Tao Hua could only blink in response, unsure what to say.
Holding the bowl up to his lips, Weng Jing asked plainly, "Your concerns? Speak—what about His Highness finally has Master Zhuan realizing things?"
Each time he called Tao Hua "Master Zhuan" Fang Jian reacted, but it only took a gentle tap of Tao Hua's hand to put her in her place. All she could do was sulk into her tea.
"I happen to understand that Daoist Master Zhaun was your late master, who died two hundred years ago, and…um," Tao Hua struggled, trying to control the conversation. This wasn't anything he was used to. Fortunately, Weng Jing waited patiently as Tao Hua found his words. "I..I'm also aware that you've been assigned the role of Imperial Preceptor by the late Emperor Xingcai, too."
"Yes. That's common knowledge."
"Oh. Um, I also understand that Jianlai fell under the hand of the Crowned Prince two hundred years ago, taking Daoist Master Zhuan with him."
"…" Weng Jing placed his bowl onto the table. "That's news to me."
"S-Sorry?" Tao Hua darted his eyes up at Weng Jing, only to find his head was turned down, and a scowl seemed to lift the corners of his lips.
"His Highness was at fault for Daoist Master Zhuan…Why didn't I know that?" Weng Jing mumbled, carefully sifting through his words before finally speaking to Tao Hua.
"My curse differs from the Curse of Shendi—they're not the same, nor am I subjected to it to the fate of all others within the Palace walls." Weng Jing propped his elbows on the table, folding his fingers together and placing them under his chin. "There isn't much this disciple can tell Master, but should she ask any questions, I'll scour the heavens to find an answer."
"But—" Tao Hua frowned impatiently. He examined Weng Jing's expression, but only found sincerity in his complexion.
"I'm aware of the insults I've said, and I stand firmly be them. His Highness is a mutt. But, as per my curse, I'm not permitted to speak of it nor the things I'm uncertain of." Tilting his head toward fang Jian, he hummed a bit. "Sister Jian, what do you recall of that time? During Jianlai's fall?"
She blew away the steam from the bowl, staring down at it. Her expression was listless, citing no enjoyment in the topic.
"Before things happened, Mama Zhuan sent me back to my palace and told me to wait for her." Her bottom lip quivered, but she managed to keep things together. "I listened and waited, and waited…and waited. I even waited after Uncle Mie broke the news of her death. He said it was at the hand of the Crowned Prince of Jianlai—Lord Shan Si."
The entire explanation boggled Tao Hua's brain. If that was the case, then why did Wan Mie treat Shan Si with a great amount of respect? Something didn't add up, but Tao Hua couldn't tell if that was him begging for another answer to clear his conscience, or his gut feeling screaming that something was terribly wrong.
"Did you not hear the commotion at the time?" Asked Weng Jing, as if already prepped for the answer. "Surely, it must have been loud."
"I couldn't—it was like I was sent to another world. The door wouldn't budge."
"Daoist Master Zhuan is strong as she is intelligent," Weng Jing said. "She wouldn't allow those she loved to fall so easily. I imagine it was an array of some sort—a protective one."
"Are those prepared in advance?" asked Tao Hua. "The arrays?"
Weng Jing scrutinized him. "How is it that you harbour such intense energy, but know nothing of cultivation? An array of that extent does need more than just a few minutes to prepare. Placement, stones, an appropriate amount of Qi—all are needed if one wishes to be successful."
Why…would she prepare something like that in advance? Did she know this was going to happen?
"Are you sure she died that day?" asked Tao Hua. "Maybe there's a chance."
"The truth is more muddied than it first appeared—her energy is strongly tied to yours, and I fail to discern between the two souls. I can't say for certain whether I'm convinced you're not Daoist Master Zhuan or not."
"It might just be associated with my maternal name," Tao Hua quietly replied, yet he still couldn't understand. If Zhuan died that day and hadn't had any children, then who would there be to continue the legacy?
Rebirth?
Tao Hua glanced over at Fang Jian, noticing her weary smile and the way she slowly placed the bowl on the table, without an ounce of enthusiasm. Watching her lashes fall, Tao Hua's heart sank straight to the depths of his stomach.
This was a conversation better suited for later.
"I think Brother Jing is still grieving."
"It can't be helped," he hmph'd, taking a sip of the tea. "It's no better than playing a lute to a cow and expecting it to sing a song for you."
"Um, another question," Tao Hua began anxiously. The upcoming question was one that could have reddened his eyes had he not controlled himself. "If it was Shan Si who…killed Daoist Master Zhuan, shouldn't you detest him? Maybe want him dead?"
"Mama Zhuan wouldn't want that," Fang Jian answered in Weng Jing's stead. "Even when he was taken under the wing of His Majesty, Emperor Xingcai, she always defended him and desperately tried to walk him down a different path."
She let out a sigh, rippling the tea. "I chose to believe her words, even now. Something happened to Lord Shan Si to change him, and if I were to guess, it was his father."
"True to false, he still bears responsibility for the lives he took," Weng Jing scoffed. "Those lives will never return to the mortal world, all while he roams freely through it."
But Tao Hua couldn't quite agree—nothing of Shan Si's situation allowed him to roam freely. The more he thought about it, the more he hugged the blanket around his shoulders.
Whatever happened, that grief still sat with Shan Si today. Even if those around him couldn't see it, Tao Hua could—he knew the face of someone dealing with the scrutiny of something they never once could control.
All in memory of his father.
But regardless of his distaste for Shan Si, Weng Jing had a point Tao Hua couldn't avoid. Those were still lives, and if they did fall at his hands, then what would that make of him?
Tao Hua was now left with the decision on whether or not he feared Shan Si; perhaps hated him as much as the others.
As the other two engaged in idle conversation, moving past the topic entirely, Tao Hua glanced over at the window. He watched as the first snowflakes of the evening snow began to fall.
It was funny how those snowflakes looked less and less like a phenomenon, and more like tears frozen in time.
Chapter end.