Chapter 3: The Sleep-Inducing Fragrance

On seeing two young women—one dressed in white, the other in green—entering the mourning hall side by side, the lady in white bore a calm expression, while the one in green looked visibly elated. Madame Wang’s face darkened with anger.

“Where did you two country servants come from? Are you mocking us?” she snapped.

Ashu’s eyes, once curved with a smile, suddenly widened in shock. She glanced at herself indignantly and retorted, “How do we look like mere country servants? Even if we were, so what? We have neither stolen nor begged. My lady kindly came to treat your young miss, who is about to die unjustly. If you cannot appreciate that, then fine, but why insult us?”

“Ah Huan, no more treatment. Let’s go home quickly!” Ashu said, pulling Murong Huan’s hand as she turned to leave. Suddenly, Lady Liu cried out and rushed over with tear-filled eyes, nearly falling to her knees before them.

“Please don’t leave! It’s my daughter who is ill. I must treat her, and it has nothing to do with these ladies. On their behalf, I apologize to the young miss. I beg you both to save my daughter!” Liu’er said, bowing repeatedly.

Ashu was startled and quickly helped Lady Liu up. Seeing the woman’s haggard face and swollen, tear-stained eyes, her heart ached with sympathy—a tragic tale of a parent losing a child prematurely.

“What shall we do now, Ah Huan?” she asked, turning to Murong Huan.

“We need a room, a brazier, and a candle. Carry the patient into the room; everyone else waits outside. Then we can begin,” Murong Huan instructed.

Ashu raised her voice and repeated firmly, “Did you hear that? Give my lady a room, a brazier, and a candle. Then carry the young miss from your coffin into the room. All others, stay out and do not disturb. My lady is about to begin treatment!”

“What do you mean by ‘all others’? You little maid, how dare you be so rude?” an older servant woman scolded Ashu angrily.

“Do you want this coffin-bound young miss treated or not? If not, then we’re leaving!” Ashu challenged.

The servant’s face flushed red with anger, ready to retort, but Lady Liu shot her a cold glare. “What are you doing? Don’t you want my Ying to come back to life? Are you guilty thieves afraid she’ll reveal who pushed her into the water?” Her words sent a chill through the assembly.

“Lady Liu, don’t lose your mind in front of outsiders!” Madame Wang snapped furiously.

“Then take all your servants and leave. No one here truly wants to watch over my Ying, so why pretend otherwise?” Lady Liu said.

“You—” Madame Wang was speechless with rage and instead turned to her son. “Look at the wife you married!” With that, she hobbled away, leading her servants in a huff.

Wang Sanlang’s face flushed and paled in turn, irritated. He glanced at Lady Liu and hurried after his mother. “Mother, please don’t be angry. Mei Niang is grieving the loss of her daughter, overwhelmed by sorrow...”

...

After Madame Wang and her retinue left, the mourning hall finally fell silent. Lady Liu summoned two strong young servants to lift her daughter from the coffin and carry her into her chamber. They promptly lit a candle and placed a brazier.

Once inside, Murong Huan set a wooden puppet on the window frame. The candlelight cast its silhouette on the paper-covered window, resembling a graceful woman with flowing robes.

From a distance, the servants watching screamed and fled in terror.

Only Lady Liu stood silently before her daughter’s room, glancing inside from time to time but afraid to disturb the spirit, as the maid had said no one should interrupt during the treatment.

After a while, a strange, subtle fragrance wafted through the air—like plum blossoms blooming through snow, or petals drifting on the wind. It stirred memories of all the joyous moments with her daughter: from birth to first words calling her “Mother,” to learning to write, play the zither, and paint.

To ensure her daughter’s bright future, Lady Liu had raised her to be polite, virtuous, talented, and accomplished, fearing she might not be welcomed by her future in-laws. Yet, she had never taught her to protect herself.

...

Gradually, Lady Liu drifted into a dream, seeing her daughter swinging high on a swing, bathed in golden sunlight with butterflies dancing around her and the sound of her clear laughter ringing in her ears.

“Ah Huan, Lady Wang has fallen asleep! Shall we begin?” Ashu whispered.

“Yes, we may,” Murong Huan replied.

“How pitiful Lady Wang is—her in-laws dislike her, and even her husband is weak. Since her daughter left, she seems soulless...” Ashu murmured.

“Can this young miss truly come back to life?” Ashu asked.

Murong Huan pondered briefly, then answered, “Of course! She never truly died.”

...

“How’s it going? Have they begun treatment? The person’s dead; how can she be cured?” Madame Wang asked two trembling servants who had just returned.

“It seems they’re treating her, but it’s frightening—like some sorcery to summon spirits. I even saw the young lady’s soul on the window paper,” one whispered.

“Nonsense!” Madame Wang snapped, then sighed sadly. “I never expected Ying to be so stubborn. We thought, with her calm nature, marrying into the Zhou family and winning Zhou’s favor would spare the Wang family some misfortune. But now... forget it. If she truly wakes, fine. Otherwise, I’ll find another daughter born to a concubine to marry into that family.”

“Madam, is that wise? The Zhou family insisted on marrying our fifth miss,” reminded Madam Zheng.

“He’s never even met her—only heard of her talents and beauty. Are we to force Ying to die twice?” Madame Wang retorted, silencing Zheng.

“Go check again—has the treatment worked?” she ordered.

“Yes!” the servants answered, fearful yet resigned, and hurried out once more.

“Ah Jia, if the fifth miss doesn’t wake, what then? We can’t really pick another Wang girl to marry into the Zhou family. They’re known to be violent...” Madame Wang fretted.

Suddenly, an idea struck her. “If she can’t wake, we’ll send this pretender healer and her maid to Zhou, telling him they killed the fifth miss.”

...

An hour later, Lady Liu awoke from her dream, a faint smile lingering at her lips. But when she looked at the puppet’s shadow on the window paper, reality crashed back.

She hurriedly rose just as Ashu entered the room.

“Madam, your daughter’s life has been saved, but my lady wishes to speak with you,” Ashu said.

“That’s wonderful!” Lady Liu exclaimed, following Ashu swiftly to her daughter’s bedside, where the girl still lay unconscious, pale as paper.

Anxiety gripped Lady Liu. “Why hasn’t she awakened yet?” she asked Murong Huan.

“She’s pregnant,” Murong Huan replied tersely.

“What did you say?” Lady Liu was stunned as if struck by lightning.

“Madam, you didn’t know? Your daughter is two months pregnant.”

“No... my Ying has always been proper. She’s not even married. How could this be? How do you know?” Lady Liu gasped.

Ashu continued, “Your daughter told my lady everything in a dream. She had a lover and wanted to elope with him, but he was cowardly. When the Zhou family proposed marriage and demanded your daughter, he was afraid and disappeared, never contacting her again.”

“No, no, that can’t be...” Lady Liu whispered in disbelief.

...

She refused to believe and knelt by her daughter’s bedside, gently caressing her cheek. She recalled her daughter’s strange behavior over the past two months: avoiding closeness, speaking little, answering only “yes” or “okay.”

“So because the Zhou family forced the marriage and her lover abandoned her, she was devastated and took her own life? She had already resolved to die?”

Ashamed to face her family, coupled with their cold indifference and even scorn from cousins, had broken her spirit.

Remembering her always gentle, smiling daughter, Lady Liu wept bitterly. “It’s my fault. I was so focused on pleasing Ah Jia and bearing a child for my husband that I neglected Ying’s feelings.”

“It’s my fault too, Mother. Ying, as long as you wake, no matter the hardships, I will face them with you!”

...

Seeing Lady Liu’s heart-wrenching sorrow, Ashu felt deep sadness rise within her.

“People often only regret after loss, don’t they? Ah Huan, it seems the lady has come to understand. So, shall we...?”

“Let’s go.”

“Ah, now? But it’s already dark outside...” Ashu hesitated, hoping to have a meal before leaving. Seeing Murong Huan’s resolute expression, she swallowed her hunger and followed him out.

Just as they stepped outside, two burly older women stormed toward them, intent on grabbing Ashu.

“What are you doing? My lady just cured your miss. Is this how you repay kindness with hatred?”

“Cured? If she were cured, why is she still unconscious? I think you’re here not to heal but to kill. Now that she’s dead, you want to escape? Enough lies—we’re taking you to the authorities!” Madam Zheng stepped forward, raising her hand to strike Ashu.

Murong Huan seized her wrist with iron grip, freezing her in place as if encased in steel.

Zheng recoiled in shock, meeting Murong Huan’s sharp, icy gaze—a chill that pierced to the bone.

“I heal the heart,” he said coldly. “If there’s no heart, I’ll take your life instead.”

“What did you say?” Zheng stammered.

Ashu quickly stepped in front of Murong Huan, her voice gentle and soothing. “Ah Huan, it’s alright. Calm down.” Then, turning to Zheng, she apologized with a humble bow, “Sorry, my lady is a bit emotional. She’ll be fine soon.”

Seeing her submissive posture, Zheng’s trembling ceased. She forced a bitter smile and sneered, “Ha... did you hear that? She says she’ll take my life. If she’s not here to kill, then what is she here for?”

Madame Wang, incensed, shouted, “Guards, seize them both!”

“Wait—” Before she could finish, a clear, youthful voice rang out.

Zheng and the servants looked up in surprise to see a familiar graceful figure standing proudly at the doorway.

“She is my benefactor. You shall not harm her!”