“You too?”
Chu Yunge was surprised. Before, when Pei Ji encountered the princess, he wished he could fly three meters away. How had he drawn close today?
Pei Ji regretted his words the moment they left his mouth and hurriedly found an excuse. “I just want to strengthen the medicinal potency.”
“Oh, then come along.”
Pei Ji breathed a sigh of relief and was about to follow when he lowered his head and suddenly noticed the dust on his clothes.
He had practiced martial arts all day today. Moments ago, startled by Chu Yunge, he had broken out in sweat all over.
Fortunately, Chu Yunge had hugged him tightly just then.
Pei Ji coughed. “I’ll go wash up and change clothes first.” Lest she hug him again…
Wait, what was he thinking?
Pei Ji’s expression changed drastically. Chu Yunge had no idea what was on his mind and simply said, “Hurry up.”
“Got it.” Pei Ji flushed with annoyance and embarrassment as he sped away.
Qingchen followed Chu Yunge to the sleeping palace. “Thank you, Princess.”
Chu Yunge reached out and grabbed his wrist. “If you thank me again, I’ll feel ashamed. After all, it was I who poisoned you.”
“I understand your concerns. It was my lack of consideration before. They can choose to detoxify at night, but it’s not suitable for you. I won’t force you to do it at night. From now on, your detoxification will all be arranged during the day.”
Qingchen gave a wry smile before confessing frankly. “Your Highness, actually, this little monk cannot get close to women. Though Your Highness holds a noble status blessed by the heavens, this little monk is truly an inauspicious person.”
Chu Yunge realized Qingchen was thinking of his three fiancées.
Before Qingchen was even born, his mother and her close pregnant friend had jokingly arranged a betrothal between their unborn children, saying that as long as it was one boy and one girl, they would become in-laws.
Unexpectedly, the other woman did give birth to a daughter, but it was a stillborn, reportedly suffocated to death.
The matter naturally came to nothing, and no one mentioned it again.
Later, when Qingchen turned twelve, a formal betrothal was arranged. But that same year, the little girl drowned by accident while playing in the water to beat the summer heat.
It was an accident too. The girl knew how to swim and spent plenty of time in the water during summers, yet that year the mishap occurred.
No one blamed Qingchen for it. They simply felt regret for the girl, especially since Qingchen had already begun to show his exceptional talent by then.
Two years later, when Qingchen truly blossomed, no one dared utter a word against him.
The Young Master Qingchen of that era was the most radiant figure in Heavenly Prosperity City, peerless and unmatched.
The Shen Family had been extremely selective, and only in his fifteenth year did they finally arrange another betrothal. Mindful of past lessons, they chose a girl who was healthy, virtuous, quiet, and not at all mischievous.
Who would have thought that two months later, she would suddenly die from an acute intestinal abscess? Rumors of Qingchen being jinxed to kill his wives began circulating from then on, even dragging up the stillborn infant from his birth.
The once most beloved Young Master Qingchen vanished from that summer onward.
Yet unexpectedly, ten years later, Qingchen still bore it in his heart. He had even convinced himself that he had jinxed them to death and had been blaming himself ever since.
“Jinxing people and being inauspicious are all nonsense. It doesn’t exist at all.”
Qingchen glanced at Chu Yunge upon hearing this but said nothing. He had heard many similar words before, all meant to dissuade him from self-blame. He had not expected the princess to offer comfort as well.
“You don’t believe me?” Chu Yunge could tell from his expression. “Then sleep with me tonight. See if I get affected. Look, I dragged you in here, and you haven’t jinxed me dead yet. It’s all fake.”
As a modern person, she could not tolerate such superstitious drivel.
Even after experiencing transmigration—a supernatural event—she still firmly believed there was no such thing as jinxing people.
“Based on what I know, this princess will give you an analysis. First off, childbirth is always a brush with the gates of hell for both mother and child. You can’t be blamed for that.”
“Second, that little girl was so young—tragic, yes—but drownings often claim strong swimmers who get careless. Plenty of people drown every year. She just happened to be your little fiancée.”
“As for the last girl, it was regrettable too, but mortals who eat the five grains are bound to fall ill.”
Judging from the symptoms, it sounded like acute appendicitis. Without surgery in ancient times, it was indeed hard to save her.
“Their deaths were full of regret. As their fiancé, it’s normal for you to feel guilty. But birth, aging, sickness, and death are beyond anyone’s control. There’s no need to shoulder all the blame yourself and truly believe you jinxed them.”
“If you really had the power to jinx people to death, then whenever you had enemies or went to war, you could just jinx them. It’d be the ultimate divine weapon.”
Qingchen was left amused and exasperated by Chu Yunge’s words. The weight in his heart lightened considerably because of them.
“A divine weapon… This little monk has never heard it described that way.”
“It is what it is.” Chu Yunge raised her head proudly. “So from now on, if they take out their anger on you and make things difficult, you don’t have to endure it.”
Qingchen restrained his smile. “She did not deliberately make things hard for this little monk. Losing a close kin leaves them in too much pain; they need an outlet. If blaming this little monk eases their suffering even a little, then so be it.”
“Buddha’s compassion,” he added.
In that moment, Qingchen resembled a serene, aloof white jade Buddha once more.
Chu Yunge thought for a moment, then reached down and pinched his arm.
Qingchen looked utterly baffled. “Your Highness?”
She had just comforted and enlightened him—why pinch him all of a sudden?
“Does it hurt?”
“A little.”
Chu Yunge pointed to his wrist. “This red mark is your blood, right?”
Qingchen grew even more puzzled. “Yes. What is Your Highness trying to say?”
“Just reminding you that you’re still human.”
Qingchen’s expression went blank for an instant, as if he half-understood yet did not. “This little monk has not yet cultivated to Buddhahood.”
Chu Yunge spread her hands. “Exactly. Buddha’s compassion, sure—but you haven’t become a Buddha yet. You’re still human, with flesh and blood, capable of feeling pain. You feel guilt and suffering just like they do. So why let them take it out on you?”
In Chu Yunge’s eyes, monks were people too. People suffered, yet Qingchen seemed like a Buddha devoid of temper or awareness of pain.
Seeing Qingchen’s stunned expression, Chu Yunge paused before continuing.
“Ever since I met you, you’ve been kind—kind to the point of throwing yourself into danger at any moment for others’ lives. Be it the consort who troubled you today or the me who deliberately made things hard for you before, you treat us all equally and seek to resolve our suffering.”
“You’ve steadfastly chosen the path to Buddhahood, constantly redeeming and saving others, easing their pain. But what about you?”
In her time with Qingchen, Chu Yunge had always found his good personality tinged with something odd. She had finally pinpointed the reason.
Qingchen exuded a Buddha-like demeanor, yet he was still young—only twenty-five, barely past university graduation age in modern terms.
Consider it: at fifteen, he suffered a life-altering blow, tonsured himself and entered the monastery, living that way for a decade…
He seemed rather like a psychologist who had developed mental issues himself.
They said psychologists who worked long enough often ended up with problems—the worst cases sometimes—and was Qingchen not the same?
“You’re human too. You redeem others, but who redeems you? Who helps you vent your stress?”
Chu Yunge scratched her chin. “I haven’t known you long and don’t fully understand you, so I might be off-base. But I feel that if you keep forcing yourself to play the Buddha, it’ll cause real problems in time.”
“You’d do best to relax, give yourself space to breathe, unwind, and vent.”
Qingchen’s eyelashes trembled. His injured wrist clenched unconsciously until he felt the pain.
Yes—he had forgotten. He could feel pain. He was human after all.
He had been helping redeem others and easing their suffering while atoning for his own sins.
The deaths of his three fiancées had left him wracked with guilt. He had nearly died himself, then followed his master away, tonsured and entered the monastic life, cultivating merits and virtues in hopes they would reincarnate into good lives.
Over those ten years, he had helped countless people, turned many from wayward paths back to the shore, freeing them from the sea of suffering.
Everyone thanked him. Everyone awaited his salvation. Everyone thought him wonderful.
No one saw his problems. No one thought he needed redemption or help. Not even he had realized it.
Only this princess—with her bizarre actions and mercurial moods—said he had issues.
He had come to help and enlighten a princess seemingly trapped in an invisible cage, cruelly suffering within. Yet somehow, it had reversed.
In the end, it was he who had been awakened and redeemed.
Qingchen did not know how to describe the feeling. It was as if he had been drowning all along without realizing it, only to be suddenly hauled to the surface for that one breath of air.
He gasped deeply without thinking. “This little monk… Did this little monk truly have problems all along?”