Blossom

Chen Qushui gave a bitter smile.

A coward who abandoned the city and fled, disregarding the lives of the common people! A criminal!

Anyone who knew of his past would surely scorn him, wouldn’t they?

He couldn’t help but lower his head and murmur, "Miss, I am old now, and my knees ache unbearably whenever it rains or storms. I fear I can no longer serve by your side. Once the rain stops, I shall return to Zhen Ding..."

The hall was silent. Dou Zhao neither spoke to persuade him to stay nor took the opportunity to let him leave. The oppressive stillness made the sound of rain outside even more distinct, rendering the hall even quieter.

Chen Qushui looked up in surprise and saw Dou Zhao sitting there in a daze, her eyes unfocused.

Alarmed, he called out loudly, "Fourth Miss! What... what’s wrong with you?"

Dou Zhao was lost in thought and didn’t hear what Chen Qushui had said.

She was struggling to recall events from her past life.

In her previous life, not long after the Jiang Family met with disaster, the Duchess of Yingguo passed away. Still in mourning, Song Mo was driven out of the Duke of England's Mansion and disappeared without a trace.

She had not experienced any of this firsthand.

Song Mo was a year younger than her.

At that time, her mind had been wholly preoccupied with how to marry into the Marquis of Jining's Mansion, and she had paid no attention to anyone or anything outside of it. It wasn’t until after her marriage into the Marquis of Jining's Mansion and her entry into the aristocratic circles of the Capital that she gradually heard fragments of what had happened back then.

The Duke of Dingguo's Mansion had been established through military achievements. Its descendants were typically sent to military camps for training as soon as they turned fourteen. As a result, many rose to high ranks, amassed wealth, and commanded troops, but far more died unnoticed on the battlefield. To ensure the family line flourished, the Jiang Family had a tradition of taking numerous concubines, and there was little distinction between legitimate and illegitimate children—all were trained in martial arts together and studied at the Jiang Family School. Their worth was judged solely by their ability to lead troops, a practice much criticized by the Capital’s nobility. Yet it was precisely this approach that produced generations of renowned generals in the Jiang Family, with marriage alliances spanning the land.

Jiang Meisun was the sixth Duke of Dingguo. He had twelve brothers, but only five reached adulthood. In the third year of Yongming, he was ordered to garrison Fujian. Apart from his fifth brother, Jiang Bosun, who remained in the Capital due to his youth, his second brother Jiang Zhusun, third brother Jiang Lansun, and fourth brother Jiang Songsun all accompanied him south.

In the eighth year of Yongming, Jiang Zhusun died in battle, and the Emperor posthumously honored him as the Marquis of Qinghai.

During Jiang Meisun’s eighteen years as the Commander-in-Chief of Fujian, his military exploits were illustrious. He nearly eradicated the coastal pirate scourge, to the point where even private vessels in Fujian and Zhejiang dared not set sail during the day. This caused great distress to the wealthy merchants and gentry involved in smuggling, earning him countless enemies. Yet he maintained close ties with several Grand Academicians of the Grand Secretariat. No matter how fiercely the censors of the Duchayuan impeached him, he remained unscathed, retaining the Emperor’s favor. Gradually, people stopped provoking him.

But for some unknown reason, a censor suddenly accused Jiang Meisun of killing civilians to claim merit and nurturing pirates to consolidate his power. Upon receiving the memorial, the Emperor not only issued an imperial decree condemning him but also ordered the Imperial Bodyguard to escort the Jiang brothers to the Court of Judicial Review in the Capital for interrogation.

Stranger still, Jiang Meisun and Jiang Lansun died under torture on their way back to the Capital, while Jiang Songsun committed suicide in prison shortly after being confined in the Court of Judicial Review. The entire Jiang Family was later executed.

It was said that after receiving the imperial decree, the Jiang Family’s matriarch, Madam Mei, took poison along with all the women of the household—including two granddaughters, one aged three and the other two—while the Imperial Bodyguard was ransacking the mansion.At the execution in Caishikou, only the men of the Jiang Family were present, with no women among them.

In the following decade or so, the Japanese pirates in Fujian encountered no resistance, frequently landing to massacre entire towns.

Whenever news of such events reached the Capital, people would shake their heads and sigh, "If only the Duke of Ding were still alive..."

After Liao Wang ascended the throne, he rehabilitated the Jiang Family. A portrait of Jiang Meisun was enshrined in the Hall of Loyalty, and the Duke of Dingguo's Mansion, previously bestowed by the late emperor upon the Grand Princess Ningde, was reclaimed. Liao Wang even summoned Song Mo specifically to inquire whether any members of the Jiang Family had survived.

Song Mo, however, replied that the Jiang Family had no remaining descendants.

Yet rumors persisted among the populace that Jiang Meisun's youngest brother, Jiang Bosun, had left behind a posthumous child still alive. When disaster struck the Jiang Family, a loyal servant had allegedly smuggled the infant away and raised him in the back alleys of the city.

When Madam Guo of the Xuanning Marquis household told Dou Zhao this story, she had laughed, saying, "Since it was a family-wide execution, the Imperial Bodyguards would have meticulously counted every head. Not only would Jiang Bosun's son not have been spared, but even personal pages and prominent stewards wouldn't have been missed. The common folk just love spinning such tales, making it seem like good people always get their just rewards..."

Calculating the timeline, Song Mo was driven from his home in the fourteenth year of Chengping.

Going further back, the wife of the Duke of Yingguo likely passed away in the summer of the fourteenth year of Chengping... or perhaps in spring, or even the winter of the thirteenth year of Chengping...

The Jiang Family's tragedy must have occurred in the thirteenth year of Chengping.

It was now the fourth month of the thirteenth year of Chengping...

Dou Zhao sprang to her feet.

Which meant the imperial decree condemning Jiang Meisun might be issued at any moment!

Dou Zhao thought of that infant not yet a hundred days old.

Beads of sweat instantly formed on her forehead as she asked Chen Qushui, "Mr. Chen, do you think something might have happened to the Duke of Ding?"

Chen Qushui was baffled by the question but pondered before answering, "It shouldn't be possible. The Duke of Ding appears rough but is actually meticulous—nothing escapes his notice. As a garrison commander, if something had happened to him, news would surely have spread by now. We've heard nothing, and moreover, the Duke of Ding was on excellent terms with Zeng Yifen..."

At this point, his expression suddenly stiffened, and he turned to look at Dou Zhao.

Dou Zhao was already looking back at him.

Their eyes met, and simultaneously they exclaimed, "Zeng Yifen is dead now..."

Yes, with Zeng Yifen dead, the Grand Secretariat was in transition between old and new. The Grand Secretaries were too preoccupied with their own affairs to spare any attention for Jiang Meisun in distant Fujian.

If anyone bore a grudge against Jiang Meisun, this would be the perfect opportunity to strike.

"Could the Duke of Ding really be in trouble?" Chen Qushui's forehead also glistened with fine sweat. "Then... that child..."

"Entrusting an orphan!" Dou Zhao said, exhaling deeply.

Only the act of entrusting an orphan could explain such secrecy, and why Song Mo, heir to the Duke of Yingguo, would personally escort the child with a select group of skilled guards.

She made a concerted effort to calm her racing thoughts and spoke coolly, "For now, we must pretend to know nothing." Then, glancing up at the roof, she murmured, "I hope the rain stops soon, or at least lightens up."

If it did, they might set out earlier.

Chen Qushui's expression, however, grew increasingly grim. He looked at Dou Zhao with visible discomfort and said softly, "I'm afraid the situation isn't that simple..."

Dou Zhao frowned deeply, giving him her full attention."Did you notice the scholar in blue standing beside Young Lord Song?" Chen Qushui said with difficulty. "His surname is Yan, given name Yun, courtesy name Chaoqing. He was once one of the most capable advisers under Duke Ding. When I left Fujian, I heard he had been noticed by Duke Ding's sister—the Madam of Duke Yingguo—and taken on as private tutor for her son. It was recognizing him that made me suspect the young gentleman was Song Mo, the Young Lord of Duke Yingguo."

Dou Zhao understood and quickly asked, "Did he recognize you?"

"Back then, Yan Chaoqing was Duke Ding's favorite, while I was merely one of Zhang Kai's many advisers. But this man is meticulous and has a photographic memory, which earned him the responsibility of managing documents at the General Military Headquarters," Chen Qushui admitted frankly. "The moment I saw him, I hurriedly retreated to my room. I don’t know if he noticed me."

※※※※※

Song Mo was also awake.

The room was unlit. He stood by the wide-open window, gazing at the pouring rain outside, his expression calm.

A gust of wind scattered the rain like threads, filling the air with a damp mist.

A slender figure emerged silently from the darkness and stopped three feet away from Song Mo, speaking respectfully, "Young Lord, be careful not to get wet. Should I close the window?"

Song Mo ignored him and asked, "Has Master Yan returned yet?"

The man was about to answer when he suddenly tilted his head to listen, then smiled. "Young Lord, Master Yan is here."

Song Mo nodded and turned to sit in the Grand Preceptor's Chair nearby.

Yan Chaoqing and a man with a somewhat simple and honest appearance entered, soaked to the bone, water dripping from their clothes onto the brick floor.

"Young Lord," they both bowed to Song Mo, who gestured to the chairs beside him, indicating they should sit.

The slender figure, unaffected by the darkness, deftly poured tea for each of them before silently retreating into the shadows.

Song Mo asked calmly, "Did you find anything?"

Yan Chaoqing and his companion exchanged glances, both revealing bitter smiles. "Young Lord, I fear we may be in trouble this time."

Song Mo looked at them serenely.

The man accompanying Yan Chaoqing said, "We encountered one of Zhang Kai's former advisers." He then recounted the feud between Jiang Meisun and Zhang Kai. "This man’s surname is Chen, given name Bo, courtesy name Qushui, also known as Yuechuan. He is well-versed in documents and regulations, skilled in judging character, and sharp-tongued, with talents akin to Zhang Yi. Back when Zhang Kai led troops against Dubi Wushilang, it was this man who persuaded An Daoyuan, the governor of Zhejiang, to send reinforcements. He now works as an accountant for this household."

"Are you certain?" For the first time, Song Mo’s expression turned grave.

"Yes," Yan Chaoqing confirmed firmly. "Xu Qing and I crouched outside his door for nearly half an hour. He seemed very uneasy, constantly sending pages to check if Fourth Miss Dou had woken up, as if he had something urgent to tell her. He must have recognized us too."Song Mo remained silent for a long moment before speaking softly, "A bodyguard who has mastered external martial arts to perfection, an accountant who once served as Zhang Kai's adviser, along with over a dozen extraordinary attendants—this Fourth Miss Dou is truly remarkable. Xu Qing," he instructed the man who had arrived with Yan Chaoqing with a smile, "keep a close watch on this residence. Don't let anyone in or out." Then he turned to Yan Chaoqing, "We may have to stay here another day tomorrow. You should retire early, sir."

Yan Chaoqing and Xu Qing tensed.

Their whereabouts had been exposed, and the young master's words implied they would silence the witnesses.

Xu Qing hesitated, "There are more than twenty of them..."

"All the more reason to be cautious," Song Mo remained unmoved, his tone light.

The two said nothing more, responding in unison before withdrawing.

Song Mo moved through the darkness as if it were nothing, effortlessly navigating the furnishings before lifting the curtain to enter the heated room at the back.

Inside, only a dim oil lamp flickered.

The wet nurse, with her gentle features, lay curled beside the infant in her clothes. At the sound of movement, she immediately sat up alertly. Recognizing Song Mo, she relaxed and softly called out, "Young Master," preparing to rise from the bed.

Song Mo gestured for her not to wake the child, then bent down to gently stroke the baby's jet-black hair. With a warm smile, he asked, "Is the child well?" His expression was so serene and peaceful in the lamplight that it instantly put one at ease.

The wet nurse nodded, her face blooming into a smile. "The little one is very well-behaved, neither crying nor fussing." As she spoke, her eyes brimmed with tears at the thought of the child's birth mother, who had hanged herself to keep their secret.

"Don't worry," Song Mo reassured her softly. "We'll arrive soon."

The wet nurse nodded vigorously, her gaze filled with trust as she looked at him.

Song Mo straightened and strode out of the heated room.