Once the prayer ceremony was over, the crowd started to disperse from the ancestral hall.
After confirming that Elder Zhang has left the ceremony, Zhang Yue walked towards the ancestral hall like she was heading to another set of public scrutiny she didn't particularly care for. She never cared about the ancestral rites or prayer ceremonies.
If it wasn't because of Zhang Yan, she would never have turned her heels in this direction. He and the face reader on a random street, somehow convinced that she has some unfinished business with her ancestors and warned her that she will suffer a pitfall in her life if she doesn't deal with it.
Anyway her life already hit its rock bottom, what's there left to go down? She just wanted to test their theory. That's what brought her to the Zhang estate.
The afternoon sun flared behind her like a spotlight, catching the anxious glances of women with tightly pursed lips and gossip jammed in their throats.
People were trickling out of the hall, heads lowered, but their lips moving fast. Their eyes darted toward Zhang Yue like moths that knew the flame was dangerous but couldn't resist it.
"The audacity to show up on the ceremony with such a thick face." One woman whispered sharply, like her words could scratch Yue from a distance. Her face was drawn tight, voice soaked in theatrical horror. "She killed her own parents, and now…"
"Shh, she'll hear you." Someone tried to stop that woman.
Zhang Yue tilted her head just enough for the whisperers to panic. She didn't stop walking. But her silence and cold demeanor were its own kind of violence.
"I heard she was involved with some dangerous men when she was in university." Another one said, voice low, deliciously scandalous. "Got pregnant. Tried to kill the baby. And then, her parents."
Zhang Yue stepped over a fallen flower petal like it was a memory she had no intention of picking up.
"Honestly, the whole car accident sounded fishy. Both of her parents died and her child went missing. But she somehow managed to survive." Someone else chimed in. "Who survives something like that unless it's planned?"
"Probably planned by her lover." They nodded, as if they'd cracked some difficult code.
"Anyway, her lover disappeared and also, the Zhang family disowned her. No way she can survive on her own."
"Well, that's very evident." They looked at her and cackled up.
"And now that the Elder Zhang cast her out, what does she even have left?"
"Let them talk." Zhang Yue's eyes scanned the red-and-black pillars of the hall, unmoved by their words. The whispers crawled behind her like shadows.
Zhang Yue slowly stepped inside the ancestral hall. The hall was almost empty and her footsteps echoed softly against the cold stone floor. The scent of burning sandalwood and the low hum of ancient prayers filled the air inside the hall.
She lit three sticks of incense, bowed thrice, and placed them in the urn before her parents' memorial tablets, father on the left, mother on the right. She quietly set down folded joss paper, a peeled mandarin, and a small porcelain cup filled with rice wine.
When she finished the rituals, she didn't linger.
She had prayed.
She had paid her dues.
Zhang Yue had no plans to stay. She had already done what was required.
She didn't owe anyone anything more. Not the cold food. Not the bitter wine. And definitely not to greet the people who pretended her presence was a stain on tradition.
But as soon as she stepped out of the hall, Zhang Yan stopped her. He stood in her way, with that annoyingly steady calm he always carried, like a mountain pretending to be a man.
He already knew that she won't be staying for the lunch and go through another episode of family drama.
"Just have a sip of ceremonial wine." He said while offering a small cup of ceremonial wine. "Then you can disappear again."
"Don't tempt me." She jokingly said, and took the cup from him.
Among her family, she trusted no one, except Zhang Yan.
"Here, you go." Zhang Yue took a sip from the cup and returned it to him.
"Okay, uncle. No more harsh good byes." She smilingly waved her hand, ready to leave.
Zhang Yan wanted to stop her, but he couldn't ask her to remain longer.
The air was too sharp with judgment. Also, she had an interview to attend. Her life has to move on, not get buried in this judgemental ancestral house.
But as Zhang Yue crossed the threshold toward the gate, his voice came again, softer this time.
"You're not going to the shrine?"
Even though she heard him, she didn't stop walking.
"At least… for your child's sake. He's there, Yue. He might be waiting."
That made her pause.
"Visiting the shrine?" She unknowingly turned around.
Not so far away from the Zhang mansion, stood the shrine, in a mysterious thicket of osmanthus forest.
Within it, the presence of Wuqian Jun, the Guardian of the Zhang bloodline. The warrior deity who bore the karmic weight of every soul the Zhang men had slain in war.
He was no gentle God. He didn't offer forgiveness,only protection, in exchange for remembrance.
When a child in Zhang family line died prematurely, they believed Wuqian Jun took the soul under his wing. Not to cradle it,but to hold it until it was ready. Until it had seen enough past lives to return whole.
Zhang Yue's child had never been named.
Never cried.
Barely lived.
But he was still a Zhang.
She looked at the path leading to the shrine.
Maybe Wuqian Jun did take her child under his wing and waited for her.
-------------------
The shrine was somewhere away from the Zhang mansion, in an osmanthus forest, crouched like a beast carved from obsidian, quiet and waiting. Since it was deep in the mansion estate, most in the family visited it out of obligation.
After losing her family, Zhang Yue had always avoided it. She has always grown up listening to the story of the Guardian deity of Zhang family. But she lost her faith when none of those deities saved her parents or her child from death.
But this time something was different. Yes, Uncle Yan's words did affect her. But it was never about gods.
This was about her son. What if he waited for her?
The stone steps were slick and wet with the rainwater. She climbed them slowly. Inside the shrine, it was colder than outside, strange for a place meant to house flame and smoke. The walls were dark, carved with the names of the fallen. Men who had died on horseback, in gunfire, with swords in their hands and pride in their chests. Zhang men. The family's curse was their glory.
And presiding over them all, stood Wuqian Jun.
The statue towered in the center. He was not a beautiful god. No gentle curves or lotus blossoms. He had the face of a man who had seen every war and remembered every scream. Armor fused to skin, eyes downcast,not in mercy, but in heavy, unwavering vigilance.
At his feet were the soul stones. Each one small. Each one etched with a barely visible character,representing children too young to earn a seat at the ancestor's table. One of those stones belonged to hers.
Zhang Yue stood before the statue, her back straight. She wouldn't kneel, not yet.
She looked into the deity's eyes. Or tried to.
"You took him," She said, "So keep him safe."
No theatrics. No apology. Just the truth. That was all she could offer a god like Wuqian Jun.
But something shifted.
It was subtle. A curl of incense that bent toward her face, brushed her skin. She heard a distant clang of iron, like a blacksmith forging something beneath the mountain. Her fingertips tingled.
Then she saw it.
A flicker, no, a shimmer,behind the deity's feet.
A pair of small feet. A blurred figure, translucent as river mist, barely the height of her knee. Not moving. Just watching her.
Zhang Yue's breath caught.
Her son? Maybe.
Or just a trick of her grief.
She didn't care. She stepped closer, knelt down.
"I should've held you longer." She picked up a small box of mooncakes from her bag and left it near the spirit stones.
During her pregnancy days, mooncakes were the only thing she craved more than anything. She wasn't a fan of sweets, but her nanny said that it must be the baby who liked the moon cakes.
"I don't have anything else to offer you."
She whispered it like a confession as she placed her palm on the cold stone where the shimmer had been.
And just for a second, she felt warmth bloom under her palm.
Then it was gone.
"Only if I can go back in time and fix everything."
She stood up, brushed the dust from her clothes, and looked back at Wuqian Jun.
"I won't come here again." she said. "But you know where to find me."
She was about to step outside, when the sky started to pour down with a loud rumble.
The storm warned them before it arrived,low grumbles rolling across the sky like a beast waking from slumber. The clouds churned above the Zhang family shrine, bloated with rain and old memories.
She wanted to leave, but there is no guarantee that she will find another potato van to return to the city in this rain. Also can't afford to go back to Zhang mansion, and seek help from her uncle.
She sat on the steps of the shrine, away from the rain.
Even though she pretended to be brave in front of her uncle, she was afraid of travelling during thunderstorms.
It was such a rainy day that left her all alone in this world.
A road accident in the pouring rain. Their car lost the control and fell into steep river valley. The thunderstorms delayed the search party. And when they found her, she was barely alive. Her parents were already gone. But her child - was no where to be found.
Her heart ached, but her eyes remained dry. Crying felt like a luxury she couldn't afford.
Zhang Yue reached for the small cup of ceremonial wine left at the altar, meant for the deity. But maybe, just maybe, he wouldn't mind.
Zhang Yue sat at the edge of the step, clutching the small cup of ceremonial wine offered to the deity. Her fingers trembled,not from fear, but from the pressure of holding everything in for too long. She sipped.
Bitter. Earthy. The alcohol bit the back of her throat and settled deep in her belly.
"You're not supposed to drink that, you know," came a smooth voice behind her. "Stealing offerings from a God? Bold move."
She turned sharply.
A young man lounged casually by the stone lantern. His robes half-drenched, hair tied back in a loose knot. He didn't flinch as the wind picked up or when thunder cracked above. His presence was out of place,too elegant for a Zhang, too calm for a stranger.