Third Mistress, seeing the two women quarreling incessantly—one her mother, the other her dearest friend—wished for neither to be hurt, so she patiently soothed and mediated between them, using persuasion and persistent effort until the disturbance was finally quelled.

Though Qiao Niang’s words were sharp, her heart was generous, and she forgot the dispute once it was over, continuing to treat Aunt Hua and her daughter kindly afterward. However, after this incident, Aunt Hua guarded Qiao Niang closely, never again allowing her near Fu Lian. The man and woman could only bury their longing deep in their hearts, occasionally exchanging glances—a mere sip of spring water to quench their thirst.

One day, Aunt Hua said to Fu Lian, “My daughter and Qiao Niang both serve you here now; staying in this place is not a permanent solution. Young Master should return home soon and establish the marriage vows.” She immediately prepared luggage and urged Fu Lian to set off on his journey back.

Hearing this news, both women’s faces turned sorrowful, and Qiao Niang was utterly heartbroken, tears streaming down her face. Aunt Hua waved to stop their crying, forcibly pulling Fu Lian out the door. When she looked back, the courtyard was gone, replaced only by a desolate grave mound.

Aunt Hua escorted him to the ferry crossing and said, “When you return home this time, this old woman will soon bring the Third Mistress and her sister to visit. If the Young Master has not forgotten our past affection, you may come to the abandoned garden of the Li family in the county seat to propose marriage.”

Fu Lian readily agreed, reluctantly returning home. His elderly father was overjoyed to see his son return and asked, “You rascal, where have you been these past few months?”

Fu Lian briefly recounted his experiences and finally pleaded, “Father, your son has already pledged marriage to the Third Mistress and her sister. I beg you to grant your blessing.”

The old father scoffed, “How can you believe the words of a fox spirit or ghost? You survived by sheer luck because you were born a eunuch; otherwise, your bones would long ago have been scattered.”

Fu Lian argued, “Though the Third Mistress and her sister are not human, their devotion to your son is genuine. Moreover, the two girls are clever and beautiful; marrying them into the family will not disgrace Father’s reputation.”

A fleeting shadow of pain crossed the old father’s face. He said softly, “Child, you have carried this affliction since birth. Even if you marry, the bride will only be left to a living widowhood. This matter cannot be forced; we stop here.”

Fu Lian exclaimed, “Father, my condition has long been healed; you can rest assured on this point.” Elder Mr. Fu shook his head in disbelief, sighed deeply, and turned to leave.

To prove he was not lying, Fu Lian privately indulged in carnal pleasures with a maidservant, behaving recklessly, even engaging in public displays during the day. News of this quickly reached his parents. His mother sought out the maidservant for questioning and, upon learning that her son was completely normal, wept with joy and privately conferred with Mr. Fu, saying, “Our son has grown; it is time we found him a wife.”

Mr. Fu pondered, “If we are seeking a wife, she must be a suitable match—preferably a young lady from a prestigious, ancient family. Go call Lian’er over; I wish to question him myself.”

When father and son met, Fu Lian declared, “Your son will marry no one but Miss Hua.”

His mother countered, “The world is not short of beauties; why be obsessed with a mere phantom?”

Fu Lian replied, “My illness was cured by Aunt Hua. A man must repay kindness. Furthermore, I have already promised to marry the Third Mistress and her sister; one cannot betray their solemn vow.”

Mr. Fu nodded and mused, “What you say has merit. Very well, I agree.” He immediately dispatched servants to seek out Aunt Hua and her daughter. The servants inquired everywhere and learned that the abandoned Li family garden was five li east of the county seat. Daring not to delay, they rushed there without pause.

Arriving at the estate, they saw crumbling walls partially hidden by dense bamboo groves, within which stood a thatched hut emitting faint wisps of cooking smoke. Pushing open the door, they found a mother and daughter inside, wiping down tables and chairs with cloths. The servant explained his purpose and, gazing upon the Third Mistress, was astonished by her celestial beauty, exclaiming, “Is this our Young Mistress? Truly a sight to move the heart! No wonder the Young Master pines for her day and night, his spirit entangled.” He then asked, “Where is Miss Qiao Niang?”

Aunt Hua sighed, “The poor girl had a short destiny; she passed away three days ago.” As she spoke, she prepared a banquet to host the servant.

After a simple meal, the servant took his leave. Upon returning to the manor, he recounted his findings in detail, and Mr. and Mrs. Fu were overjoyed to hear of the Third Mistress’s peerless beauty. Fu Lian, upon hearing the news of Qiao Niang’s death, could not suppress his grief and wept, yet a seed of doubt remained in his heart: “If Qiao Niang had already transformed into a spirit, how could she die a second time?”

On the wedding day, Fu Lian personally asked Aunt Hua, “Is Qiao Niang truly dead?”

Aunt Hua replied, “Yes, Qiao Niang has reincarnated to the North and is already living as a new person now.” Hearing this, Fu Lian gasped in sorrow. He forced himself to compose his spirits and proceeded to marry the Third Mistress. After their wedding, Fu Lian never forgot Qiao Niang, and whenever guests arrived from Qiongzhou, he would personally visit them to inquire about Qiao Niang’s whereabouts. Eventually, someone revealed information: a female ghost was often heard weeping near Qiao Niang’s grave site.

Fu Lian was overcome with mixed feelings of surprise and joy. He urgently discussed the matter with the Third Mistress. She lowered her head silently upon hearing this, pondering for a long time before suddenly letting out a soft sob, weeping, “I have wronged my elder sister.”

Fu Lian asked, “What exactly happened?”

The Third Mistress confessed, “When my mother and I came here, we secretly hid it from my sister, not letting her know. That must be why she cries out every night; she must resent and hate me deeply for it. Husband, I always wanted to tell you the truth, but I feared Mother’s scolding. If your heart aches, please strike me once to vent your anger.”

Hearing this, Fu Lian let out a long sigh and said, “The fault is not yours. Come, we shall ride to Qiongzhou and bring Qiao Niang home to reunite.”

The couple traveled by horse, sedan chair, and boat, rushing through the night to the grave site. They dug through the soil until the coffin was exposed. Fu Lian struck the lid with both hands, calling out, “Qiao Niang! Qiao Niang! I have come for you!”

With a loud crack, the coffin lid flew open, and Qiao Niang emerged from the pit, clutching an infant. She stared blankly at Fu Lian, her eyes full of lingering sorrow. Fu Lian, also feeling a pang of sadness, forced a slight smile and asked, “What a lovely child. Who is his father?”

Qiao Niang’s face hardened. “Isn’t it the little bastard you fathered? He’s three months old—and you don’t recognize your own flesh and blood?”

Fu Lian sighed, “I mistakenly believed Aunt Hua’s words and caused you and your child to be buried beneath the earth. It is all my fault.”

Qiao Niang relented, “Forget it. You and the Third Mistress traveled a thousand li to see me; your conscience hasn't entirely failed. I forgive you this once.” The three reconciled and sailed back to Guangdong together.

Upon their return, they paid their respects to the in-laws. The old lady was delighted to see her grandson robust and physically imposing, showing no trace of ghostly aura. The two wives shared one husband harmoniously, respected their elders, and the household was blessed with domestic bliss.

Several years passed, and Mr. Fu fell gravely ill. The family called for a physician, but Qiao Niang shook her head, saying, “His illness has reached the vital point; his soul has already departed. There is no need to waste effort.” Before she finished speaking, Mr. Fu breathed his last. Fu Lian suppressed his grief, managed his father’s funeral rites, observed the mourning period at home, closed his doors to visitors, and devoted himself entirely to educating his son.

Seven or eight years later, the son grew up, closely resembling his father in appearance and possessing a brilliant intellect. At the age of fourteen, he passed the Xiucai examination, and his fame spread far and wide.