Chapter Eleven: The Stone Steps

Lu Yalan and her companions set out early in the morning, hurrying all the way towards Qianyun Temple. They did not stop to rest at noon, instead taking light refreshments with warm water inside the carriage. Although Yancheng and the surrounding regions were comparatively peaceful under Marshal Mu’s governance, and no bandit attacks had ever occurred along the road from Yancheng to Qianyun Temple, bandit activity was now widespread. The absence of past incidents did not guarantee safety in the present, and no one wished to risk their life through a moment’s carelessness.

After the household servant reported the situation, Lu Yalan expressed her understanding. The Lu family’s carriage traveled with caution and haste toward Qianyun Temple. Even when Hongxing grew anxious that her young lady might not eat well and spotted a teahouse along the way, she did not call for a stop. Passing one group of pilgrims after another, they finally reached Qianyun Temple as the sun slanted westward, and everyone breathed a collective sigh of relief.

Qianyun Temple, established centuries ago, sits upon a mountain. Only one steep, winding path leads up and down, and from the foot of the mountain, one can glimpse only the ancient, intricately crafted eaves with their peeling red paint. Climbing the mountain, a mere sidestep sets clouds adrift beneath one’s feet, filling the heart with both dread and a lofty, adventurous spirit. When asked why the temple was built so high and the path so steep, the abbot replied that it was to temper the heart.

In later years, as incense offerings flourished and pilgrims arrived in endless streams, the abbot finally relented to devout requests and allowed steps to be laid along the mountain path for easier access. Yet the temple itself remained untouched by renovation, so that from below, one could still see the timeworn, ancient eaves at the end of the mountain road.

Lu Yalan looked up; Qianyun Temple seemed to float among the clouds. Along the winding, rugged path, scattered pilgrims could be seen—some standing with hands clasped behind their backs, gazing at the sky; some carried aloft in sedan chairs, issuing orders; some clad in cheongsams, others in suits and ties. The mountain road was a stage for all the world’s variety.

The chiming of bells and the scent of incense wafted on the wind. Lu Yalan drew a deep breath, feeling her senses sharpened and clear.

Because the temple attracted so many worshippers, merchants and peddlers had set up shop at the mountain’s base, and over time, many settled there, making the place ever lively. The world below was raucous and bustling, while the heights above were detached from the mundane—a rare experience.

“Miss, I’ve heard there’s a vegetarian restaurant here that’s especially good. Many famous people come just to taste it. The mountain path is so long, climbing will take a lot of energy. Why don’t we eat something before heading up?” Hongxing, though she had never visited Qianyun Temple, had inquired of others and drawn up a detailed plan of all the worthwhile places nearby, just waiting to take her young mistress exploring once they were settled.

On any other day, Lu Yalan would have agreed, but now she had weighty matters on her mind. That mysterious memory felt like a gift—why had such a rare opportunity come to her? Aside from the Buddha’s compassion, she could think of no other reason.

Eager to express her gratitude, she said, “After all, I’m here to atone. While staying at the temple, it’s best I burn incense and listen to sutras. Let’s hurry up the mountain.” Seeing Hongxing’s disappointment, she added, “We’ve come all this way, so naturally we shouldn’t miss out. Once we’ve paid our respects and settled in, we can walk around after our daily devotions. Don’t worry, your plans won’t go to waste.”

Hongxing’s eyes brightened, though she looked a bit embarrassed and grinned foolishly at Lu Yalan’s words.

The coachman, familiar with the place, guided the carriage to a well-known inn, where he would wait at the foot of the mountain for their return.

“Miss, the path is steep and difficult. Would you like to take my sedan chair up?” a porter asked, flashing a broad yellow-toothed grin as he rubbed his hands and stood up. “My chair is fast and steady—I promise a smooth ride.”

Lu Yalan shook her head, preferring to walk.

The mountain path seemed long, and walking it was even more strenuous. Some stretches were so narrow the steps were not even as wide as a woman’s bound feet; one had to tiptoe to pass. After some distance, those unused to physical exertion, like Lu Yalan, were already sweating at the brow, though the others fared better.

“Miss, let’s rest a bit,” Hongxing suggested, straightening up and scanning their surroundings. Spotting several large stones further ahead, leveled smooth by many resting pilgrims, she led her mistress there.

Lu Yalan wiped her brow and let Hongxing guide her over. This pilgrimage was meant as a penance for Lu Yalan, so she had not brought a retinue of maids and older women—apart from Hongxing, the others were household guards, keeping a respectful distance. Thus, many tasks fell to Hongxing alone.

Hongxing produced a mat to lay on the stone and kicked away loose rocks and weeds, bustling back and forth until Lu Yalan could finally sit.

“Come, you rest too,” Lu Yalan said, amused, stopping Hongxing from setting out tea and snacks. “You’ll be busy enough once we reach the top. Rest while you can.”

Passing pilgrims cast curious glances their way. Lu Yalan felt a bit awkward, and only then did Hongxing realize she’d been overly excited. She smiled sheepishly at her mistress.

The higher they climbed, the stronger the wind became and the colder the air grew. Before long, Lu Yalan’s sweat had turned chill, making her shiver. She called for everyone to move on.

It was early spring, and nature had not yet awakened. From the mountain, not a trace of green could be seen; gazing at the undulating ridges in the distance, Lu Yalan exhaled deeply, her heart suddenly uplifted. But just then, a figure appeared out of nowhere, barreling straight into her arms.

“Oh my!”

“Ah!”

“Miss!”

Caught off guard, Lu Yalan felt a crushing force against her chest, so strong she staggered back several steps, nearly missing a step and tumbling down. Luckily, Hongxing was quick and caught her, averting disaster.

It had happened in an instant. Only when the household guards rushed over to check did Lu Yalan regain her composure, still shaken.

“Are you alright, miss?” Hongxing cried, peeling away the bundle of a person still clinging to Lu Yalan and checking her for injuries.

Lu Yalan examined herself and found no harm done. Comforting Hongxing, she turned to look at the culprit, whom Hongxing had set aside.

The woman appeared to be over forty, twice the size of Lu Yalan. Her right foot was curled under, and she struggled to stand on one leg—it seemed she had twisted her ankle. Sweat beaded on her brow, whether from pain or fear. Knowing she had implicated an innocent, she did not protest being roughly handled by Hongxing. As everyone looked over, she forced a sheepish smile onto her plump, round face. “Young lady, I’m so sorry. I twisted my ankle and lost my balance—I didn’t mean to involve you.”

Lu Yalan understood then that the tremendous force must have come from the woman’s weight.

“I’m sorry, dear, for startling you.” Seeing the stout lady wobble and repeatedly apologize, Hongxing, though still upset, could not bring herself to scold her. At Lu Yalan’s tug, she fell silent.

When Hongxing had grabbed her, Lu Yalan felt a rush of fear—such a steep stairway, such force; if she’d fallen, she might have died. But looking at the flustered woman, she knew it was not intentional.

Lu Yalan stepped forward to support the woman, letting her lean against her. “It’s alright. Accidents happen when traveling. How is your foot?”

Only now did the woman, previously blocked from view, see Lu Yalan’s face beneath her fringe. Her eyes narrowed, then she became even more friendly.

She patted Lu Yalan’s hand. “Good girl, thank heavens we’re both alright. If not for you, this old woman would have met her end here today.” Using Lu Yalan’s support, she moved her right foot gingerly, then looked toward the mountain gate not far away. “It’s not too bad—rest a few days and I’ll be fine, but climbing now will be difficult.”

Lu Yalan saw sweat standing on her brow and signaled Hongxing to wipe it away. “You’re too kind. Looking at you, one can tell you’re destined for wealth and longevity. If it hadn’t been me, someone else would have come to your aid.”

The woman laughed. “So you know how to read faces, do you? Well, even if you’re just flattering me, I’ll take it.”

Lu Yalan was not merely flattering; the woman’s plump, kindly features and the constant smile at the corners of her eyes and lips inspired warmth. Though dressed simply, she carried herself with the dignity of a wealthy matron, the sort whose household was harmonious and children filial—a life of contentment.

Lu Yalan wondered why someone like her would be alone on a pilgrimage, but as they were strangers, she did not ask.

Looking around, Lu Yalan motioned for Hongxing to help her settle the woman on a nearby stone. “Madam, what will you do next—continue up, or go back down?”

The woman glanced at the mountain gate and sighed. “I was too stubborn. I’ve traveled this path countless times, could find the gate with my eyes closed, and grew impatient with company, so I sent my attendants ahead. Usually nothing happens, but today, sending them away nearly caused disaster.” She forced a smile. “Among so many pilgrims, it’s common for someone to fall ill. The monks at the temple have medical training, sometimes better than ordinary doctors. Since we’re close to the top, I might as well continue and rest there.”

Pausing, she added apologetically, “I’m sorry to trouble you for so long, but could I ask one more favor? Once you reach the top, could you call for my servants? They’re easy to spot—broad-shouldered and burly, standing right at the entrance.”

Lu Yalan, worried she misunderstood, quickly waved her hands. “No, no, you’re mistaken. It’s windy and cold here; you shouldn’t stay, injured as you are. If you don’t mind, let one of my guards carry you up. Or, if you prefer, I can leave a few men to look after you.”

Though it was the Republic era, traditional propriety still held sway. Ordinary folks might not mind, but ladies of stature often cared about such things. Lu Yalan was uneasy about leaving the woman here, but also worried she might object to being carried by a strange man, so she hesitated.

Seeing Lu Yalan’s sincere concern, the woman patted her hand again. “Good child, I’ll do as you say. I’m old enough to have seen it all—I don’t mind such things.”

Lu Yalan beamed and had a guard come to carry the woman, helping her settle comfortably.

Along the way, the two chatted and exchanged names. The woman, who seemed every inch a grand lady, spoke fluently about the sights and cuisines of various regions, broadening Lu Yalan’s horizons and prompting her to ask more. Hongxing would chime in now and then. The not-so-long stairway, in their company, felt wholly different from the earlier climb.