Translator: Tuiwen Editor: Tuiwen
Zhu Xiangxiang returned to her room and turned on her phone to surf the internet. As expected, all the entertainment outlets were already up-to-date. Similar headlines flashed on her screen—
“A golden phoenix flying out of the chicken coop? Or a dove taking over the magpie’s nest? The city’s top socialite, in danger of getting her seat taken!”
“An unassuming nun suddenly revealed to be the rightful daughter of a wealthy family! Where will the fake daughter go?”
The texts were all exaggerated and eye-catching, and the article boasted some snapshots of Ming Jing. They had obviously been taken in secret, and didn’t even show her full face. A few photos of Xiangxiang were also in the article, all of them either made ugly on purpose or edited with offensive add-ons.
The public truly loved to gossip around the rich and powerful, especially when it had something to do with their downfall. This story in particular was sensational, something one usually saw in movies and melodramas—not in real life. Everybody loved it. Online discussions were in full swing, most of them fighting for an unfounded outrage on Ming Jing’s behalf. Netizens spoke of her as an unfortunate and pitiful woman, all while besmirching Zhu Xiangxiang’s character as a greedy fake who had stolen Ming Jing’s place.
Zhu Xiangxiang had a good guess on who was behind this, but that wasn’t important at the moment. She read through the netizens’ scathing commentary with gusto. The more they bashed her online, the more sorry the Zhu family would feel for her, and that was exactly what she wanted.
…
Ming Jing came to the banquet hall at the allotted time. When Lin Qing caught sight of her bald head, she was so incensed that her face almost twisted and gave away her true feelings.
But Old Madam Zhu had already lectured her. Unable to scold Ming Jing, she waved a servant over instead and ordered her to go out immediately and buy a wig. Lin Qing simply couldn’t stand the sight for even just another moment.
Old Madam Zhu motioned for Ming Jing to sit beside her, in the exact position that usually belonged to her precious grandson Zhu Shaodan. Zhu Xiangxiang’s gaze lingered at the seat for a while, but she said nothing and silently sat on Lin Qing’s right.
The old woman looked at Ming Jing’s head in wonder and beamed at her. “A round head is said to be blessed with abundant intelligence.”
“Thank you for your kind words,” Ming Jing smiled.
Old Madam Zhu reached out, seemingly to pat her hand, but then fastened an exquisite silver lock around Ming Jing’s wrist. “It is a gift from Grandma.”
Ming Jing nodded in understanding. “Thank you, Grandma.”
One must never refuse a gift from an elder.
The servants started serving the dishes, dozens upon dozens of them. Within the blink of an eye, the large dining table was filled with all kinds of delicacies.
“I do not know your preferences, so I had them prepare everything. Oh, you’ve suffered so much. Look how skinny you are. You must eat well in the future.” Grandma Zhu’s heart ached as she lovingly looked at Ming Jing.
Then she turned to look around the table. “Shaodan still hasn’t come home?”
“I was just thinking how the lighting in the dining room seemed especially bright tonight,” a sarcastic voice came from the doorway. “It turns out that there’s an extra big light bulb in their midst.” A young man sauntered into the dining hall, his hands on his pockets, his gait unhurried.
He was about fifteen years old, and was sporting a white and yellow baseball jersey over his lanky frame. He had handsome features and appeared to be in high spirits. And he even had his hair curled. All in all, he looked like the average teenage scumbag that haunted the local campus grounds.
A veil of animosity fell over his eyes as he gazed at Ming Jing. “Our family doesn’t run a welfare center, so make sure you don’t bring home any stray animals every time you go out.”
“How dare you say that?” Grandma Zhu scolded in a low voice. “This is your elder sister, Ming Jing.”
But Zhu Shaodan only rolled his eyes. “I only have one sister, and her name is Zhu Xiangxiang.”
Grandma Zhu was so furious upon hearing that, she almost hit him with her walking stick. “If Shaodan doesn’t like her, then that’s that,” Lin Qing quickly interjected. “Why are you forcing him against his will? Shaodan, sit down and let’s eat.”
“I don’t want to eat at the same table as that nun,” Shaodan retorted before storming up the stairs.
“That child is getting more and more impertinent,” Grandma Zhu grumbled loudly as she patted Ming Jing’s hand.
“Shaodan is not a bad child in nature, but I admit we have spoiled him over the years. He will know some sense and see you in a better light in no time.”
Ming Jing leaned over and rubbed the old woman’s back to help her catch her breath. “Irrelevant people are not worth wasting time on,” she said matter-of-factly.
Grandma Zhu could only sigh. Since her arrival, this child had never shown any sign of emotion. She was unflappable even in the face of rudeness and disrespect. She was really living up to the four cardinal principles of Buddhism, perhaps in the extreme.
Underneath it all, however, she was still a young girl who was as beautiful and precious as a bud of flower.
The meal proceeded pleasantly enough. The food tasted neither salty nor bland. As they were finishing up, Lin Qing received a call. She took it at the dinner table, the conversation being brief and concise. After hanging up, she turned and looked at Ming Jing, who had been eating quietly the entire evening.
“A school has been arranged for you. You will start attending the same institution as Xiangxiang the day after tomorrow. However, your educational background is too poor. We have no choice but to let you start from the first year of high school. I don’t expect you to study as hard as Xiangxiang, or do as well as her. All you have to do is earn your diploma. The Zhu family will support you for the rest of your life anyway.”
“Don’t worry, Mom,” Zhu Xianxiang piped up cheerfully. “Since Ming Jing has me, I won’t let anyone bully her in school.”
She turned to Ming Jing. “This is great, isn’t it? From now on, we can go to school together.” She looked so sincere, any onlooker would have been touched by her words.
Zhu Xiangxiang’s eyes drifted involuntarily to Ming Jing’s bald head. It was just too dazzling, and not exactly in a good way. Compared to her own elegant and fashionable appearance, Zhu Xiangxiang was confident that the people’s opinion would tip in her favor.
But why would Ming Jing bother to even care about the opinion of others? She finished her meal in silence and returned to her room.
She had come to this household on a mission, and it wasn’t to play family with these unwelcoming people.
She headed for the bathroom and looked at her face in the mirror. There wasn’t a speck of blemish on it, no spot that might be considered ugly or flawed. It was on a level of perfection that even the Zhu family, with their commendable genes and excessive means, could only aspire to.
‘Well,’ Ming Jing mused. ‘With my current identity, I suppose it won’t be a good thing to be too beautiful.’
A knock came on her bedroom door, disrupting her thoughts. “Miss, I’ve brought you a wig,” a voice came from the other side.
Unaware of Ming Jing’s preferences, the servant had decided to get her five different styles.
Ming Jing looked them over and chose the most ordinary one—a short blunt cut with bangs that could cover her smooth and full forehead. It looked absolutely dull.
The servant couldn’t help but make a suggestion. “I believe long straight hair would suit the Miss best. The Miss is so beautiful even when bald, and you will even be more gorgeous if you wear this wig.”
Ming Jing glanced at her. The servant felt a wave of inexplicable wariness wash over her. She couldn’t explain why; this Miss looked kind even now. Yet when she had glanced over her, she suddenly felt like a deer trapped in headlights.
She cleared her throat and quickly amended herself. “I will keep these four other wigs in the Miss’ dresser. The Miss can wear whichever she likes. It might even be refreshing to wear a different one every day.”
Ming Jing’s only response to that was a slight nod. Then she padded over to her bed and returned to her silent meditation.
The servant, named Xiao Ying, surreptitiously peeked at her mistress. She had an air about her that made people feel intimidated to just even look at her.
Ming Jing ignored the other girl and continued to chant Amitabha to herself. Xiao Ying left shortly after.
…
Saint D High School was the best private high school in Jiang City. A majority of the students enrolled in its roster came from either wealthy or powerful families. In a bid to increase their enrollment rate, the school board had spent a lot of money to recruit the top students from all over the country. Those that fell into this category mostly came from a less privileged background, hardworking students who were hoping to make a name for themselves through their educational achievements. Ironically enough, both factions looked down on each other—one for the pretentious ambitions of the intelligent yet dirt-poor students, and the other for the useless frivolity of the second-generation children who only relied on their family name to get anywhere in life.
Especially after the incident last month, where Lin Helong had been forced to withdraw from school, the strife between the two parties was as volatile as ever.
Generally, the division of classes went this way: first came the rocket class, which consisted of the top-performing students; classes two to five were the experimental classes, consisting of the average and ordinary students; lastly, classes six to eight, where the idle and incompetent rich kids belonged.
Ming Jing was assigned to Class Eight, which was the class with the most number of underachievers.
Her arrival as a transfer student didn’t cause any waves. At most, it only created a small ripple on the surface.
She said a few words to introduce herself and obediently sat on the spot the teacher had designated for her. Ming Jing was sharing a desk with a cheerful girl with a round face. The girl smiled warmly at her and said, “Hello, Ming Jing. My name is Tao Xingxing.”
Ming Jing took her time putting away her schoolbag and taking out her textbook and pen case. Then she turned to and smiled at Tao Xingxing. “Hello.”
In Tao Xingxing’s eyes, this newcomer looked extremely ordinary. But her eyes were so beautiful. They contained an unspeakable depth that awed even her.
‘One must accept diversity. There is virtue in tolerance.’
With her excellent marks in Chinese, Tao Xingxing instantly found inspiration to compose something.
It was a very apt sentiment, too.
Ming Jing, on the other hand, was oblivious to the other girl’s thoughts. She opened her textbook and looked at the dense and compact text printed on its pages.
How long had it been since she had sat in a classroom and studied in peace?
She picked up her pen and smiled in contentment. After so many years of believing in Buddha, her state of mind had long been detached from the material world. At this very moment, her fingertips could not stop trembling with excitement.
Ming Jing sat in silence, unbothered by her noisy surroundings. She radiated with something that most would refer to as the Holy Light, frightening yet gentle all the same.
Beside her, Tao Xingxing was stunned speechless.
She felt like she was seeing Buddha..