From Nun to Real Heiress: Expert at Turning the Tables

Chapter 443: 206 Selection (Second Revision)

Chapter 443: 206 Selection (Second Revision)

Translator: 549690339

Twelve years had passed, but times had changed. The moon still shone, the old tree had sprouted new buds, and the old charm had given away to new clothes…

Her life had forever come to a halt that fateful winter.

Many people had forgotten how a woman named Yu Jiang once turned the Qinglong Association upside down.

It was time to remind them.

“Get some rest early; there are many things left to do later.”

Ming Jing turned and left.

Eighteen watched her leave, lips pursed, wanting to say something yet hesitating.

As soon as she stepped out of the room, a cold wind hit her face.

Deep autumn was fading as winter drew near.

This winter wouldn’t be any different from the past twelve winters.

It would still be as cold.

“The weather forecast mentioned a cold front coming. Ming Chen, Ming Ti, bundle up when going to school today. Don’t catch a cold. There’s a terrible flu going around.” Han Suwen kindly advised them at the breakfast table.

Ming Chen looked outside at the drizzling rain, in a terrible mood: “I hate it when winter comes.”

During their time at the nunnery, winter was the most difficult season. It was damp, cold, and chilling to the bone. Without any heating or air conditioning, they could only huddle together around a fire to keep warm.

They all loved sleeping with Ming Jing, but nobody wanted to touch her in winter.

Because, once winter arrived, Ming Jing would be freezing cold – it was no exaggeration to say she was colder than the weather.

The villagers at the foot of the mountain would supply them with padded jackets. They felt warm enough once they put them on, but Ming Jing never wore them.

She wore the same thin robes from spring to winter, from warm to cold.

That was also why they were afraid of Ming Jing – how strong must she be inside to endure the cold winters without fear?

Ming Ti looked towards the second floor, where, unusually, Ming Jing was absent from the table.

Ming Ti thought for a moment, put down her chopsticks, and went, “I’m going to check on Ming Jing.”

Ming Ti knocked on the door, and no sooner had she done so than they heard a cold voice from inside: “Come in.”

Although the central heating was on in the rest of the house, Ming Ti shivered involuntarily

As she opened the door and entered, a cold breeze greeted her, contrasting sharply with the warmth outside.

It was like the contrast between a warm and rainy spring day and a bone-chilling winter wind. The stark difference made Ming Ti’s goosebumps rise on her arms.

Ming Jing sat cross-legged on the bed in meditation, wearing a white robe, looking even more slender and frail.

“Ming Jing, it’s time for breakfast,” Ming Ti said, her heart aching as she felt the howling, cold wind outside the window.

Without enduring the bone-chilling winter, one cannot appreciate the fragrance of plum blossoms.

The same is true for the path of Buddhism, with the required stillness and endurance beyond the capabilities of ordinary people.

Ming Jing, herself, Ming Chen, and Xiao Wu, were just ordinary beings, scared of heat in the summer and cold in the winter, prone to laziness and shirking, fearful of hardship and exhaustion. They clung to things they desired, people and situations they could not let go, cries they had to suppress, and retaliated when beaten. Greed, hatred, love, and evil desires were spread out in their lives. They feared pain yet yearned for happiness, addicted to the intoxicating nectar it brought.

But Ming Jing possessed things that others could never hope to attain in their lifetimes – beauty, power, status, and intelligence – and led a life of glory and grandeur.

But Ming Jing never cared for these things. Though nobody would believe it, Ming Ti knew that Ming Jing had never cared for material possessions.

A sudden sadness welled up in Ming Ti’s heart. She yearned for the tender sister who had recited the scriptures to her, who had made her soups with her own hands, who had taken her to gather herbs on the mountain.

Ever since they came to Jiangzhou, her sister had changed and become a stranger, barely recognizable.

Their Master was right; the mortal world truly was the best test of one’s character.

“You can go ahead and eat; don’t worry about me,” Ming Jing said coldly, making the room feel even colder and chillier.

Ming Ti pursed her lips, turned around, and left, carefully closing the door behind her.

After breakfast, she and Ming Chen put on their backpacks and left for school. Their neighborhood was only a ten-minute walk from the school, a quick and easy journey.

Ming Chen was playing with her doll the whole way, seeing Ming Ti looking worried and sullen. “You seem tired every day, just like Ming Jing,” she said.

Ming Ti glanced at her. Ming Chen’s delicate little face was filled with a bright smile, her whole heart focused on the doll in her hand.

Ming Ti couldn’t help but knock the doll to the ground.

Ming Chen paused for a moment, then glared at Ming Ti and grabbed her by the collar. “Why did you hit my doll? Did it do anything to you?”