Cultivation Retirement Plan (BL)

bgm: light breeze, faint clouds

As Mo Yixuan and Nan Wuyue watched, the driver of the carriage drew the reins on the horses and halted. Moments later, a dainty little servant girl dressed in fresh yellow skirts emerged from the ride and descended to the ground. The teashop owner saw her heading towards the tables and hastily went up to greet her.

“Does the honored customer require a seat?” he asked. Obviously, his words were meant for the occupant still inside the carriage.

“Not today, thank you,” the servant girl bowed politely before turning to head straight for Mo Yixuan’s table.

The two Daoists watched as she stopped and curtseyed politely to them both. “Good afternoon. My mistress has instructed me to inquire whether these two are esteemed Daoists hailing from the Middle Realm?”

When Mo Yixuan nodded, the servant girl brightened and bowed again before taking out a brocade pouch. 

“My mistress has offered to cover your tab at this teashop, if these two Sir Daoists would care to accompany her for a private meeting?”

Nan Wuyue looked at her doubtfully, but Mo Yixuan was already rising to his feet. “No need to pay for such a trifling thing. We’ll join her shortly.”

The servant girl thought it over before agreeing. After all, her mistress had only told her to ensure the two Daoists came back with her, not insist on paying the tab. Most of the time, it was better to let those Middle Realm cultivators do as they pleased.

As she led the way, Mo Yixuan followed while Nan Wuyue quickly took out a few coins from his pocket and threw it on the table as payment for the tea. Curious stares followed them as well as whispers, with Old Song’s group being among them.

“Eh? Those two are cultivators, aren’t they?” the clear-eyed man spoke up first.

“Maybe they’re from the Su daughter’s sect?” Bushy Brows wondered.

“Why would they drop by and not bring her along?” Old Song crossed his arms.

“Oh! Unless they’re here to ask for her hand in marriage?!” Bushy Brows exclaimed. “Those types, they’ve got those—what you call them—Dao companions, don’t they?”

Old Song rapped him on the head. “Idiot! Who would ask at a time and day like this? Even I’m waiting a week before poppin’ the question to my darlin’!”

As Bushy Brows nursed his throbbing skull, his companion nodded thoughtfully. “That’s right. Leaving aside Old Madam Su’s illness, tomorrow’s the Ghost Festival…”

A most inauspicious date.

—

Mo Yixuan wasn’t surprised when the servant girl raised the curtains of the carriage door to reveal the woman sitting inside. She was a stunning beauty in her thirties dressed in a silken blue dress. Her hair was rich and dark, piled in an elegant twist upon her head. She wore intricate accessories accented with semiprecious stones and held a round silk fan in her hands to keep away the heat. Most arresting were her pair of sharp eyes accented with scarlet eyeshadow. They glittered like firelight on her face, intelligent and shrewd beneath her pencil-thin brows. A faint scent of peonies mixed with medicinal herbs hung in the air as he and Nan Wuyue took a seat across from her.

“Daoist Mo of Star Pavilion Sect greets Lady Bai,” Mo Yixuan cupped his hands. “And this is my disciple, Nan Wuyue.”

The current Lady of Su Manor acknowledged both of them with a smile as she leisurely fanned herself. “Ting’er, tell Old Li to take the scenic route back,” she called out to the servant girl, her voice low and delightfully rich.

“Yes, mistress.” The servant named Ting’er (葶儿) obeyed before dropping the curtains. She would be sitting outside with the coachman while her master spoke with her guests.

The carriage gave a lurch as it trotted off at a slow pace ideal for long conversation.

“It seems I’ve come back just in time,” the woman remarked before gently inclining her head. “I am Lady Bai Tingyao of Su Manor. May I ask if Daoist Mo and disciple have gotten the chance to visit my husband’s estate recently?”

Mo Yixuan even managed a brief, wry smile. “In a twist of fate, we were just kicked out this morning.”

“Oh.” Bai Tingyao (白婷瑶) gave a little gasp. “I suppose he didn’t like the contents of that letter very much.”

“No,” Mo Yixuan shook his head. “He was also very particular on its errors, including the script and seal color.”

Bai Tingyao tapped her fan thoughtfully against her chest. “I see, then he must use the red-orange ink to stamp his Middle Realm missives! Well, better luck next time.”

Every single person in the carriage had a working brain, so it didn’t take long to connect the dots. Mo Yixuan already had his suspicions from Su Shiyu’s non-reaction at the forged letter, but Bai Tingyao had just confirmed it. As the mistress of Su Manor and Su Shiyu’s wife, she was the only one who had the means and motive to use Su Shiyu’s seal without raising a row from her husband. 

“I owe you both an apology,” Bai Tingyao continued in a somewhat abashed tone. “Yu-lang isn’t usually so unreasonable as to kick out guests…”

“It’s fine, I aggravated him first,” Mo Yixuan admitted. “More importantly, your letter…”

Bai Tingyao grew serious. “Yes, I’m glad you came. If you were a day later, I don’t know what I’d do! You’ve heard of Old Madam Su’s ailing health?”

When the duo nodded, she sighed and went on, “Well in the past it’s always been like this around Mengmeng’s birthday—Mengmeng was born in late July, don’t you know? Such a sickly child until she turned three, it’s fortunate things got better after that. Ah, I forgot to mention—Mengmeng’s the Old Madam Su’s child, back when she was still Second Madam.”

“We’ve overheard a few things,” Mo Yixuan nodded. “Sir Su would be...Mengmeng’s older stepbrother from a different mother, making you her sister-in-law.”

“Correct,” Bai Tingyao confirmed. “In any case, Old Madam Su always gets so deathly uncomfortable this month. I’ve a good understanding of medicine so I look after her myself—but it’s not easy with Ghost Festival falling in the middle of it and that spirit lingering around.”

“Would this be the same ghost that Sir Su says brings fortune to the Su Clan?” Mo Yixuan asked.

“Just the one!” Bai Tingyao sighed. “I would have thought it a delusion if I didn’t witness it guiding Sir Su to a rich band of jade in the earth myself! It’s a clingy thing and it loves him to bits—always blowing out his candles or flipping his pages, little tricks like that. But most of the time it lingers in Old Madam Su’s quarters and it’s downright inseparable from her during July, which is what drives her ill.”

“Quite affectionate for a ghost,” Mo Yixuan tried to imagine its actions and could only think of a dog.

“I don’t even know if it qualifies as that,” Bai Tingyao observed. “The experts we hired—priests, monks, and Daoists all—couldn’t make heads or tails of her. The last one said she was simply human yearning taken form and searching for a home—perhaps the Su Clan was most appealing since we’re the largest household in these parts. Have you ever heard of such a thing?” She tutted and went on, “Of course, Sir Su was all for getting rid of the ghost, but Old Madam Su of all people refused, saying it was a form of companionship for her after Mengmeng went off with those Daoists. Over the years, we’ve come to grudgingly accept it as part of the family.”

“A very open-minded view,” Mo Yixuan said politely.

“Isn’t it?” Bai Tingyao smiled wryly. “I suppose there isn’t much to lose in a compromise when it’s humans and their short, short lives.”

Mo Yixuan paused before delicately posing his next question. “Then what changed?”

“Just everything,” Bai Tingyao shook her head. “Misplaced items, little accidents, workers falling ill. Then came the terrible fire at the ancestral hall—we almost lost the memorial tablets!—and the corrupted jade—”

“Sir Su had us believe that was only a case of malicious rumors,” Mo Yixuan interrupted gently.

“Wouldn’t you say that too if it was your business at stake?” Bai Tingyao shot back. “To be fair, the veins of jade affected weren’t strictly ours, but it was certainly bordering our property. The stones turned jet black and crumbled away—solid jade reduced to rubble just like that! Who knows if the affliction’s contagious, but we’ve sealed off our adjourning mine for now. And of course, there’s Old Madam Su.”

Mo Yixuan and Nan Wuyue waited for her to continue, but Ting’er suddenly spoke up.

“Mistress, we’ve arrived.”

Mo Yixuan looked out the window and saw that the gates of Su Manor were before them again.

“...it’ll be better to explain this in the presence of my husband,” Bai Tingyao said graciously. “Please accompany me, Sir Daoists. You shall certainly not be kicked out a second time.” Her eyes flashed with something akin to the glint of blades as she curled her fingers around the handle of her fan.

Sensing a battle on the horizon, Mo Yixuan only nodded silently.

—

As it turned out, husband and wife ended up in an argument right in the same old guest hall.

“Ludicrous!” Su Shiyu slammed his tea cup against the table. “Bai Tingyao, have you lost your mind?!”

“I’d like to ask you the same question!” Bai Tingyao replied hotly. “Old Madam Su is in a coma and you still won’t call for help? Is your manly pride so much more important than your own kin and kith?”

Su Shiyu’s eyes swept over the Star Pavilion duo before fixating furiously on his wife. “Outsiders have no place in our business!”

“It’s humans who have no business dealing with powers beyond their means,” Bai Tingyao huffed. “These Daoists are obviously better qualified than us to deal with the issue, so why won’t you let them?”

Su Shiyu’s gaze on her grew dark. “You would defy fate so far?”

“Oh, fine words indeed!” This time it was Bai Tingyao whose face twisted in anger. “Don’t tell me you believe sullying the Su Clan’s name is only fate too! The Old Madam might not be your mother by blood, but you still have to treat her well! How will you explain things to Mengmeng if she dies?!”

“The ghost is harmless—”

“That was the past, this is now!” Bai Tingyao snapped. “Times have changed, Su Shiyu. I told you it was a bad idea keeping that spirit around almost two decades ago!”

Su Shiyu was already 19 years old when his half-sibling was born into the world. Three years later, he had married Bai Tingyao and met the ghost haunting the Su Manor. It had lingered on since then. Now incensed and flustered, the man could only attack his wife directly.

“Must you carry on in this way?” Su Shiyu demanded. “Deceiving me was bad enough, but now you make a fool of me before others as well?!”

“You silly man, you know I’ve never listened to you,” Bai Tingyao snapped. Her expression grew grave as she murmured, “You can’t suppress it this time, Yu-lang.”

“You—!” Su Shiyu’s retort was cut off as the sound of pattering feet filled the hall.

This time, the intruder was a tiny one—a chubby boy of three, who ran into the room and instantly launched himself at his mother. 

“Mama!” the little boy whined. “Pick up, pick me up!”

Bai Tingyao only sniffled as she stroked the little boy’s head. “Mama can’t carry you today, Ah-Xiao. Papa’s being a bully and hurt mama’s heart too much!”

“Papa?” the boy peeked out from behind his mother’s skirts, his cheeks puffing up. “Papa bad! Papa no bully mama!”

“Who’s bullying whom?” Su Shiyu sputtered, though noticeably less heated than before.

“Papa is the worst,” Bai Tingyao continued mercilessly as she blinked away more tears. “He made mama cry, sniff.”

“Yaoyao, you…” Once again, Su Shiyu’s words were cut off as little Ah-Xiao charged at him manfully, pounding his tiny fists against his father’s legs.

“Papa is a bad guy! You bully mama, I hit you!”

Before the combined assault of mother and son, Su Shiyu’s defenses crumbled. He didn’t last a minute before dropping to his knees to cradle the little fighter in his arms. “All right, all right, it’s all papa’s fault. Papa will say sorry to mama, okay?”

Little Ah-Xiao smacked him in the face.

Su Shiyu’s expression turned stern. “You’ve gotten bold, brat. Who said you could slap your father?”

Instantly, Ah-Xiao quieted down and tried to squirm free. “Mama—mama, help!”

Su Shiyu easily restrained the little fellow as he stood up with the boy in his arms. The child immediately grew docile as his father turned to face Mo Yixuan and Nan Wuyue, a frown and faint flush still on his features.

“Well, my dignity's shattered to pieces already, so what else is there to lose?” his steely gaze swept past them before he gave a harsh laugh. “Daoist Mo said one thing right today. What does a clear conscience have to fear? Investigate as you like. But if you find nothing, prepare to shoulder the consequences of my Su Clan!”

Mo Yixuan folded his hands. “Many thanks to Sir Su for your generous allowance.” He glanced at Bai Tingyao next, but the woman seemed distracted, her face half-hidden as she stared at the ground. Then the servants came to usher them off to the guest quarters and he saw her no more.

—

Once master and disciple were settled in the rooms, Nan Wuyue finally found a chance to speak up.

“Lady Bai really gave full efforts,” he remarked. “It seems the rumors are true, shizun—that woman cares a lot about her little sister-in-law’s feelings.”

“She must be exhausted after all that arguing,” was Mo Yixuan’s observation.

“Shizun,

what are our plans now?” Nan Wuyue asked.

Mo Yixuan reviewed the information they’d gleaned in the past few hours. Old Madam Su was in a bad state, but neither he nor Nan Wuyue were skilled in healing. They’d be better off dealing with the ghost as originally planned.

“Although it’s a bit early, tomorrow marks the beginning of Ghost Night,” Mo Yixuan began.

“The one day in the year where spirits of the deceased can meet with family,” Nan Wuyue said in realization. “Then shizun, what you mean to say is…”

“I’ve asked Lady Bai’s servant girl. The Su Clan always prepares offerings for their elders in the ancestral hall. Knowing how that ghost tried to burn it down before, we might have a chance of meeting it there tonight.” Mo Yixuan finished, then added sardonically. “Maybe the ghosts of the Su Clan ancestors will even help us fight it off.”

“Shizun’s imagination is indeed profound.” Nan Wuyue said with a straight face. 

Mo Yixuan resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

—

(Footnotes plugin isn't working right so here they are below:)

Ting’er (葶儿) - name based on tinglizi (葶苈子), or Draba nemorosa, a type of yellow flowering plant used in traditional Chinese medicine.

Yu-lang (紆郎) - aka “Husband Yu.”

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