Pale as a chrysanthemum

As I ascended the stairs, a delicate fragrance permeated the air, and a subtle shadow flickered in the depths of the room. After all, this place was Song Qingshu's chamber, and I didn't want to intrude abruptly, so I cleared my throat to announce my presence.

"Who's there?" Ling Shuanghua's voice betrayed a hint of alarm, though she maintained an air of nonchalance.

Sensing the indifference in her tone, Song Qingshu inwardly sighed. Such a ravishing woman, brought to such a tragic state.

"Upon the request of Ding Daxia, I have come to pay a visit to Miss Ling," Song Qingshu pondered, seeking a more compelling approach to capture her attention.

A thud echoed through the room, as if a stool had toppled over. Ling Shuanghua, indeed affected upon hearing the name Ding Dian, hurriedly emerged, parting the gauze curtains to fix her anxious gaze upon Song Qingshu. "Which Ding Daxia?" she inquired.

A young woman in a light yellow garment rushed forward. Though her face was veiled, her anxiety was palpable. Upon closer inspection, faint red scars peeked from beneath the edges of the veil. Song Qingshu secretly lamented, realizing that beneath the disfigurement lay a woman of unparalleled beauty.

"Ding Dian and Ding Xia have sent me here to request a few words with Miss Ling," Song Qingshu bowed respectfully.

"How... how is he doing?" Ling Shuanghua's voice trembled slightly.

"Well... I'm afraid it's not going too well," Song Qingshu mused, silently reflecting on the gruesome injuries Ding Dian had endured—his pipa bone pierced, his hamstrings severed, and years of torment in prison. "However, he still clings to life, for the time being."

A bittersweet smile graced Ling Shuanghua's lips. "It's all my fault that Ding Big Brother suffered..."

"Miss Ling, it's not the time to dwell on the past," Song Qingshu interjected, remembering his purpose and growing impatient. "Why did you refuse to accompany Ding Daxia?"

"My appearance must have been witnessed by your son as well. I am a disgrace in my current state," Ling Shuanghua replied sorrowfully. "Every day, I pray to God and seek solace in the Buddha, hoping for Ding Big Brother's safety." She gently lifted the corner of her veil, revealing a pale face marred by ghastly red scars.

"Miss Ling, I have always admired the love shared between you and Ding Daxia. Do you believe that Ding Daxia truly cares about your appearance?" Song Qingshu furrowed his brows, momentarily distracted by the jarring sight of the scars. However, this couldn't be the sole reason.

"I am well aware that he would never despise me," Ling Shuanghua murmured, taking a seat at the table and toying with a pot of flowers before her. A gentle smile graced her lips. "I simply do not wish for him to be burdened with a marriage to such an unsightly wife."

Her words held a hint of insincerity, evident to my ears. Song Qingshu saw no point in indulging in their petty squabbles and decided to address the matter directly. "I have heard that Lord Ling forced you to swear an oath, vowing that if you ever laid eyes on Ding Dian again in this lifetime, you would condemn your mother's soul to eternal torment in the underworld. Did Miss Ling know that even without making such a vow, your father would never harm Ding Daxia for the sake of Liancheng Art?"

Ling Shuanghua's expression remained relatively unchanged as she turned to face Song Qingshu, her gaze fixed upon him. "I apologize for not inquiring about your name earlier in my haste," she said calmly.

"I am Song Qingshu," he replied, offering a brief introduction while sensing the doubts lingering in her heart. To put her at ease, he openly revealed the agreement he had secretly reached with Ding Dian.

Upon hearing the secret codes known only to Ding Dian, Ling Shuanghua finally relaxed and sighed softly. "Do not conceal it, Master Song. I realized this when I discovered the truth about Liancheng Art."

"Swearing such a solemn oath based on a lie naturally should not hold true," Song Qingshu reassured her.

A faint smile graced Ling Shuanghua's lips. Despite her disfigured appearance, a glimmer of her former beauty still lingered in the corner of her mouth. "But when I swore, I did so with utmost sincerity. I did not wish to put my mother's soul in jeopardy."

Observing Song Qingshu's puzzled expression, Ling Shuanghua raised her hand and continued, "In truth, there is another crucial reason I have not disclosed to Big Brother Ding. Initially, my father had arranged for me to marry his superior, the prefect of Xiangyang—Lu Wenhuan, the son of Master Lu from Xi'an. However, because I fell in love with Brother Ding and disfigured myself to save him, I brought shame upon my father and the Lu family. If I were to elope with Brother Ding, it would undoubtedly provoke the wrath of the Lu family. My father may not be perfect, but he is still my father. I cannot bear to drag him into such immense trouble."

"Lu Wenhuan?" Song Qingshu's heart skipped a beat. This was indeed a troublesome situation. Having spent some time traversing this world, he had gradually gained insight into various affairs. Xiangyang had been engaged in a prolonged struggle against the Mongolian army, and while the assistance of Guo Jing and Huang Rong undoubtedly played a role, the true pillar of strength was the prefect, Lu Wenhuan. Lu Wenhuan currently held sway over Jingxiang, commanding formidable forces. His brother, Lu Wende, controlled the territories along the Huai River. Together with the Sichuan envoy, Yu Jie, they were known as the three most powerful vassal lords of the Song Dynasty.

While Ling Tuisi could be considered a notable figure, she still paled in comparison to Lu Wenhuan. Offending the Lu family would undoubtedly spell disaster for Ling Tuisi.

Truly, she was a devoted daughter. Despite her father's wickedness, she still harbored concern for him... Song Qingshu shook his head. It appeared that to unravel the knots in Ling Shuanghua's heart, he would need to address her father.

"I wonder, Miss Ling, do you align yourself with Buddhism or Taoism?" Song Qingshu suddenly inquired.

"Um... I follow Buddhism," Ling Shuanghua responded, perplexed by his intentions.

"Then you must be well-versed in the concept of the Six Realms of Reincarnation. Could you shed some light on the matter?" Song Qingshu humbly requested.

After a brief hesitation, Ling Shuanghua spoke softly, "All beings, deluded by karma, are bound to the cycle of life and death in the Three Realms and Six Paths, much like the turning of a wheel. Without seeking liberation, they endure perpetual cycles of life and death within the Six Realms, without end..."

"The Six Paths consist of three realms of virtue and three realms of evil. But what determines whether one enters the virtuous or evil realms during reincarnation?" Song Qingshu asked suddenly.

Ling Shuanghua began to grasp Song Qingshu's intentions and smiled faintly as she continued, "If one commits ten heinous acts, they will descend into the three realms of evil—hell, hungry ghosts, and animals. If one performs ten virtuous acts, they will be reborn in the realms of heaven and humanity..."

Song Qingshu nodded respectfully and said, "I heard that Miss Ling's mother was a renowned paragon of virtue during her lifetime. Through her lifelong virtuous deeds, she surely would not have fallen into the Three Evil Paths. Ashura Path is also highly unlikely. That leaves only the Human Path and the Divine Path. Considering the passage of time, Lingtang cannot be lingering underground now. Miss Ling, in your oath, you declared, 'If I meet Big Brother Ding again, my mother's soul must suffer day and night in the underworld.' I must ask, do you believe that she would be enduring such suffering now, given the good deeds she performed in her lifetime?"