Blossom

Dou Zhao recognized Song Mo.

Though Song Mo was still young at the time, his figure and features bearing the marks of youth, she recognized him at a glance.

By then, Song Mo had already gained "fame" throughout the Capital. Tuo Niang had passed away from illness, and Dou Zhao had firmly established herself in the Marquis of Jining's Mansion. Yet, for some inexplicable reason, she didn’t want others to know about her journey. She quietly took her five-year-old daughter to Zhen Ding for the funeral. On their way back to the Capital, they encountered heavy rain. Their carriage got stuck in the mud, and the wheel hub broke, forcing them to take shelter in the home of a local village squire.

Exhausted, as if a part of her had vanished with Tuo Niang’s death, even the slightest hardship left her defenseless. She rested on the heated brick bed by the window in the inner room the host had vacated, closing her eyes to recuperate. When she opened them again, Yin Jie'er was nowhere to be seen.

Frantic with worry and too drained even to scold anyone, she threw on a cloak and rushed out, searching all the way to the covered corridors of the front courtyard, where she happened upon Song Mo, who had also sought refuge from the downpour.

He was crouched under the veranda of the front courtyard, listening intently as Yin Jie'er spoke: "...It’s called foxtail grass. See how it sways like a dog’s wagging tail?"

The rain poured down in sheets, like cascading curtains, dividing the veranda and the covered corridors into two separate worlds.

He wore a black coarse-cloth shenyi, its edges trimmed with white hemp, devoid of any ornaments, exuding an air of rustic elegance. His delicate, pale face, like glazed porcelain, radiated a serene glow in the dim light, while his dark eyes sparkled like brilliant gemstones.

Heavily armored guards stood like statues in the courtyard, motionless as the rain washed over their armor.

Yin Jie'er’s childish voice, chirping like a little sparrow, echoed clearly across the courtyard.

He leaned in, listening to her innocent chatter as if nothing in the world mattered more.

Not only that, he occasionally nodded and responded with phrases like "Is that so?" "I never knew that," and "There’s such a thing?"

She was stunned. Without thinking, she gestured to silence the maids and old women, standing quietly as she watched her daughter’s flushed cheeks and eyes shining with joy, unwilling to make a sound lest she disrupt the idyllic scene before her—a moment she would regret spoiling.

"Mother and I went to mourn Auntie Tuo. Why are you here?" Yin Jie'er blinked her big eyes at him.

He smiled, gently flicking the foxtail grass in her hand, making it sway drunkenly from side to side.

"I went to pay respects to my sister."

"Why didn’t you bring your daughter? My mother takes me everywhere!"

"I don’t have any children."

"Why don’t you have children?"

"I just don’t." He softly stroked Yin Jie'er’s hair, his touch so tender, as if she were a fragile porcelain doll. Yet a deep sorrow flickered in his eyes. "Not everyone is fit to be a parent..." he murmured. Suddenly, his face brightened with a dazzling, summer-like smile that seemed to light up the entire courtyard. He stood up, patted Yin Jie'er’s shoulder, and said gently, "Alright, hurry back to your mother now. She’ll worry if she can’t find you."

Yin Jie'er nodded vigorously and scampered down the veranda toward the rear courtyard.He stood quietly there, watching Yin Jie'er's figure disappear around the corner of the veranda before turning around. Facing the courtyard full of guards with his hands clasped behind his back, an aura of solemnity instantly filled the entire courtyard, causing Dou Zhao to shiver involuntarily.

A man dressed in the bright red python robe of a third-rank Imperial Bodyguard walked swiftly through the heavily armored guards with a reverent expression, humbly kneeling on one knee before him and reporting in a low, submissive voice. Only then did she realize she had seen something she shouldn't have and quickly retreated toward the backyard, moving as quietly as possible.

She felt a gaze land on her, prickling her back like needles. Not daring to look back, she merely quickened her pace, fleeing toward the inner courtyard as if escaping.

It wasn't until the next morning, when the wife of a local gentry nervously told her that Metropolitan Commander Song of the Divine Machine Battalion had briefly stayed at their home the previous night, that she learned the strikingly handsome man was none other than the infamous Song Mo.

From then on, she never saw him again.

But the earnest expression on his face as he listened to her daughter was deeply etched into her heart.

Sometimes she would think, no wonder so many women willingly followed him despite his notorious reputation—he did have a kind side to him.

Other times, she would wonder whether he had noticed her that day.

Or ponder who the "younger sister" he had gone to pay respects to was—the Duke of Yingguo only had two sons, no daughters.

Who would have thought that after so many years, she would encounter him again.

Dou Zhao rubbed her stiff face, weary from a sleepless night, and asked Su Xin, "What time is it now?"

First, she had been filled with dread, then panic, and eventually spent the entire night awake. Watching her, Su Xin had felt so restless it was as if a cat were clawing at her heart, and she too had stayed up all night. Hearing the question, Su Xin immediately stood up to check the water clock and said, "It's only Yin hour, Miss. You should sleep a little longer."

Dou Zhao sat up. "Since I can't sleep anyway, I might as well get up." Then she asked about the guests who had sought lodging. "Have they left yet?"

"How could they leave?" Su Xin replied as she lifted one side of the bed curtain and hooked it with a silver-plated Phoenix Facing the Sun hanger. "The rain is getting heavier—you could raise ducks in the courtyard now."

Dou Zhao pricked up her ears to listen.

The raindrops continued to drum against the roof tiles like scattered beans.

She recalled passing by the Duke of England's Mansion once, where the canopy of an ancient tree as thick as an embrace spread lushly over the mottled walls. Though in decline, it still exuded an ancient charm, its dense shade lying heavily on the ground, silent as if frozen in time.

She instructed Su Xin, "Go tell Duan Gongyi and Chen Xiaofeng to let those people do as they please. Be as courteous as possible and avoid any conflict with them. Escort them out respectfully."

Su Xin was taken aback.

The Dou family was a prominent and powerful household, and the Fourth Miss was not one to shy away from trouble. Yet her tone now carried a fearful reluctance, as if she wanted to keep her distance.

She thought of Dou Zhao's ashen face the night before.

Had the Fourth Miss noticed something?

Was the background of these people such that even the Fourth Miss dared not offend them?

Dou Zhao naturally noticed Su Xin's confusion, but she couldn't explain.The Duke of England's Mansion was located in a hutong in the Jiaozhong district of the northern city, occupying the entire lane. The Duke's residence had stood there for over a century, its prestige undiminished. Old Capital residents often referred to it as the Duke of England's Hutong, while its original name, Yitiao Hutong, faded into obscurity. After Song Mo committed patricide and fratricide, nearby residents of Er'tiao Hutong and Jiandao Hutong claimed to hear wails in the dead of night. Those with means gradually moved away. What was once a central and bustling area of the Capital slowly became desolate, turning into a haven for the lower classes. Even then, no one dared to enter the now-empty Duke's mansion. People could only watch helplessly as the once-magnificent estate deteriorated day by day.

Dou Zhao knew better than to provoke such a person.

"Don't ask questions. Just follow my instructions," she repeatedly instructed Su Xin.

Su Xin solemnly agreed and went to relay the message to Duan Gongyi. Upon returning, she hesitated before whispering, "Fourth Miss, it seems Mr. Chen also didn't sleep last night. Just now, when I went out, his personal page asked me if you were awake yet. He said Mr. Chen had already sent him to check several times."

Dou Zhao was surprised.

Could Mr. Chen have noticed something as well?

Though Mr. Chen remained tight-lipped about his past, through their interactions over the past two years—especially when listening to his insightful critiques of court figures—she knew he was no ordinary man.

"Please invite Mr. Chen to the hall for tea," Dou Zhao said promptly.

Su Xin hurried off to comply.

Gan Lu came to help her wash up and dress.

Su Lan, while assisting by passing small items like handkerchiefs and socks, whispered to Dou Zhao, "Fourth Miss, who do you think that young master staying with us is? He's so handsome! I've never seen anyone so beautiful. I wonder where he's from or where he's traveling for business..."

Dou Zhao looked at Su Lan's starry-eyed expression and couldn't help but chuckle teasingly, "Should I gift you to him as a maidservant?"

"No, no!" Su Lan immediately protested, pouting. "Miss, you're teasing me again! I just think he's stunning—so captivating you can't look away. But that doesn't mean I'd become his servant! I don't even know who he is or whether he's a good person..."

Dou Zhao found her reaction amusing.

Countless noblewomen in the Capital loved gossiping about Song Mo in private. Yet in public, they'd sit primly as if they'd never heard of him. Su Lan's frankness was far more refreshing.

Gan Lu scolded Su Lan with a laugh, "So you know Miss was joking? Then why bother about his origins or destinations?"

Su Lan giggled and handed Gan Lu a hairpin, letting her secure it in Dou Zhao's hair.

Dou Zhao smiled faintly.

After the incident with Pang Kunbai, the tension between Gan Lu, Su Juan, and the Bie sisters had melted away. Now they interacted like close siblings, filling Dou Zhao's chambers with warmth and liveliness.

Mr. Chen appeared with dark circles under his eyes, his expression grave and face haggard—clear signs of a sleepless night.

He requested Dou Zhao dismiss the attending maids."Fourth Miss, I'm afraid we've gotten ourselves into trouble," Chen Qushui said gravely. "Those people aren't ordinary—I suspect that young nobleman is Song Mo, the Young Lord of the Duke of Yingguo's mansion."

His revelation startled Dou Zhao. "How did you recognize him?" she asked intently.

Chen Qushui remained silent for a long moment before speaking quietly, "You've always shown me undeserved kindness, never asking where I went during those years away from Zhen Ding..." A trace of bitterness surfaced in his eyes. "I spent those years in Fuzhou, serving as an adviser to Fujian's Provincial Inspector Zhang Kai." Sensing Dou Zhao might not know who Zhang Kai was, he forced himself to explain through his shame, "Thirteen years ago, when Japanese pirates besieged Fuzhou, Inspector Zhang abandoned the city and fled. He was captured by Fujian's Military Commander—Duke Ding Jiang Meisun—and executed by sword. By law, all of Inspector Zhang's advisers and private officials like myself should have been executed as well, to serve as a warning. But Duke Jiang declared that with the enemy at our gates, we must unite against them. As long as we weren't principal offenders, we'd be given a chance to atone through service. He released us, ordering us to redeem ourselves alongside the provincial government's official staff."