Chapter Sixty-Nine: Miss Bai

After much commotion, Meng Yun and her rather muddleheaded husband finally understood: their daughter was not going to become a nun, but was instead to embark on a long journey! Meng Yun began to weep anew. The Master Wuneng had said she would be sent somewhere sacred, where she would be protected by a venerable relic.

After much deliberation, the couple decided to send their daughter to the capital. As for where she would stay, Lady Meng made the final decision: she would go to the Bai Residence. In the capital, there was only one Bai Residence—the mansion of Prime Minister Bai Zhanshuang, Lady Meng’s own family home.

And so, Fubao set out for the capital, escorted by Lin Sanlang and Meng Xuan. By the time Gu Li learned of this, Fubao had already departed. Staring at the embroidered pouch hanging from his waist, Gu Li’s eyes grew dark and impenetrable, as if devoid of all light.

That night, a shadowy figure slipped into the Lin family’s rouge shop. Finding that the one he sought had already gone, he vented his frustration by destroying the place; the furniture in the room vanished as if swallowed by the night.

A few days later, Meng Yun returned and found the shop in utter disarray. She could not help but feel secretly relieved—thank goodness the girl had been sent away in time.

Meanwhile, Fubao lay listlessly in the comfort of the carriage, clutching her rabbit. Ya Ya and Xiao Hei had not come along. Her mother had said she was being sent to her great-uncle’s home for a visit, but after so many days on the road, her backside felt as if it would split open. How she missed Can Can, who could rest so comfortably within his jade pendant!

At dawn, the Dowager Lady Bai, accompanied by her daughter-in-law and grandson, awaited them outside the gates. Her son had mentioned after returning from tackling the floods at Cangjiang that he had another great-granddaughter—fair, plump, adorable, and clever.

A few days earlier, her son had received a letter from his sister, explaining that her little granddaughter would be coming to stay in the capital for a time. The letter gave the reasons in detail. Though she regretted her daughter’s absence, the prospect of the little girl’s company was delightful.

Thus, from the moment Fubao entered the house, the Bai family lavished her with a warm and enthusiastic welcome. Meanwhile, Meng Xuan and Lin Sanlang, squeezed out by the crowd, were left speechless.

On the third day, Meng Xuan and Lin Sanlang took their leave, assured by the sight of their daughter (or niece) thriving like a fish in water in her new surroundings.

Fubao felt no sense of being an outsider in the Bai Residence. There was, however, a young lady who always gazed skyward at a forty-five-degree angle, tilting her face so that both nostrils pointed at Fubao, her eyes perpetually rolling.

“Is the young lady ill?” Fubao asked softly, leaning against her great-grandmother.

The Dowager Lady Bai was taken aback.

“She loves to roll her eyes. Mother once said it’s a very serious illness called...” Fubao pondered for a moment, searching for the right term. “Ah, yes—madness!” she declared, patting her own head.

The Dowager Lady Bai was speechless. What a clever child!

As for Bai Yugu, her behavior was becoming more and more outrageous. Where had all her manners gone? Nearby, Bai Jie was barely able to contain his laughter—this little cousin was truly a delight!

Bai Jie was Bai Zhanshuang’s grandson, the younger son of Bai Yutang, and about the same age as Fubao. He could never stand that “aunt” either—a daughter of a concubine who died young. No one really knew how that concubine had managed to ensnare the old master, giving birth to this “aunt” Bai Yugu, who was quite formidable. Her own mother had died, yet she had survived unscathed; clearly, she was not one to be underestimated.

“Bao’er, is your grandmother well? Has your grandfather lost his temper with her? Has she suffered domestic violence or been deprived of food...?” The Dowager Lady Bai’s questions grew increasingly wild. Her daughter had not returned home in so many years—who knew if that country bumpkin Meng Shengze had bullied her? Her daughter had always been too naïve, tricked away all those years ago. The more she thought about it, the more her heart ached, forgetting entirely what her son Bai Zhanshuang had said on his last visit—that her daughter was doing well and looked a decade younger.

Fubao and Bai Jie exchanged glances.

Just how much did the old lady hope her own daughter was suffering?