Chapter 60: Dark Night, Wind and Rain

On Wolong's slopes dusk deepened—drizzle began. Cold rain on the face. Guyu shut the window. "Miss—mind the chill."
Jingzhe draped a cloak on Shen Miao, worried: "Mountain road was bad already—rain all night—tomorrow after incense, can we leave? Mud may keep us another day."
"Another day then another day." Guyu laughed. "Scenery is fine, quiet—better than—" She swallowed the rest—the false smiles of the Shen house.
Shen Miao sat at the table with a board—she loved chess more lately—maids could not play—so she played alone. Sometimes Guyu and Jingzhe found her face strange in solo play—chill to watch.
The door opened—Nanny Gui entered beaming, food in hands. "Miss—temple vegetarian. Wolong's is good. This old servant fetched crystal osmanthus soup special. First and Second Miss ate already—both praised."
"Oh—set it there." Shen Miao flat.
"Best while hot—cold loses taste." Gui eager, lifted the bowl toward her.
"Nanny—why rush?" Jingzhe smooth took the porcelain, smiled. "Miss said set it down. She felt poorly—will eat later."
Gui burned inside—Shen Miao did not rebuke the maid. Once Gui's word ruled disputes—maids were punished first—when had Jingzhe and Guyu won such favor?
Silence—then Shen Miao sudden: "Nanny—you have been with me fourteen years."
Gui's heart jumped—looked up. Shen Miao looked back—clear eyes as always, child-pure—Gui dazed a moment.
Without notice the wailing infant had become a carved doll, then the tall girl before her. Gui sighed—Shen Xin and wife on campaign had charged her to guard Fifth Girl—fourteen years gone.
"You were always close to me," Shen Miao soft. "Once I burned with fever—rain like tonight—posts sent for a doctor, slow to come. Nanny worried—ran out herself—slipped on the road, split her head—still found another physician."
Gui paused—face softened. "Miss remembers."
"Of course. Nanny at my side more years than Father and Mother. I count you kin."
"You shame this old servant." Gui sighed—cold Fifth Girl suddenly warm—surprise—and a thread of guilt. She had not started cruel. When Shen Xin chose her, her son unwed, no grandson yet—she had loved Fifth like a granddaughter. Real warmth once—but—every man for himself under heaven. Fifth was not blood; the first branch promised—if tonight succeeded—her son's house would prosper.
Fortune favors the bold—and Fifth could give her nothing. Gui's eyes shifted—smile returned. "Miss—night is cold and heavy—eat and rest. When tired—light a stick of scent—sleep well—tomorrow incense for master and madam—that is good."
"Thank Nanny for caring." Shen Miao smiled too—smile held something unreadable. "Nanny go first—I will eat myself."
Gui wanted to stay—Shen Miao's dismissive air—Gui retreated awkward. Outside she did not leave—crouched under the window, listening.
Soon Guyu inside: "Miss—food grows cold."
"Set the meal."
Clink of bowls—someone sat and ate. Jingzhe: "Miss—how is the osmanthus soup?"
"Good." Shen Miao's voice. "To my taste."
"Then have more." Guyu laughed.
Long listen—seemed finished—tidying—Guyu carried the basket out. Jingzhe: "Miss—read a while more?"
"Some fatigue—one more quarter—go light the incense." Shen Miao languid.
Gui straightened, exhaled deep, glanced at the window, left the yard—at the gate muttered: "Miss—do not blame this old heart—First Madam moves against you—none can stop."
After Gui—no one saw the man appear behind—watching her hurry off—anger on his face.
Inside Jingzhe watched Shen Miao worried: "Miss—Guyu is out—I still do not understand—what do you plan?"
Unease in Jingzhe—as if the quiet mountain would birth something. "Miss played that scene to fool Nanny Gui—does she have a trick?" That gentle speech to Gui made Jingzhe fear—afraid Fifth would obey Gui again as before.
Shen Miao watched the lamp flower crackle—tiny sparks against the drizzle outside.
Fake eating, fake incense—expedient only. The kind words to Gui were not soft heart.
On revenge's road no turning back. Past kindness was not excuse for future crime. Villains earned no mercy—like winners' last words to losers in the inner palace on the road to the block.
She closed her eyes light.
"Miss—what now?" Jingzhe changed the question when no answer came.
"Wait."
"Wait for what?"
Lashes stirred. Lip corner lifted.
"Wait for the dark night, wind and rain—when men kill and rob."