Blossom

The main chamber of the Duke of Yingguo's Mansion was located along the central axis of the estate—a courtyard with five bays and four sections. In front lay the front courtyard, main hall, and reception hall of the mansion, while behind it was a small garden with a Buddhist shrine. Emerging from the Hall of Cultivating Will where Song Mo resided,

he entered the courtyard and saw his mother standing absentmindedly on the steps, gazing at the camphor tree in the corner. Tall, elegant, and dignified, her delicate features carried an air of quiet strength and pride.

The scent satchel in Song Mo's hand suddenly felt like a burning flame, searing his skin.

This camphor tree had been a gift from his eldest uncle in Fujian for his mother's twentieth birthday. Back then, it had only been as tall as a person, but now it reached the eaves.

"You're here!" Jiang Shi greeted her son with a smile and sat down on the stone bench beneath the grapevine trellis.

The grapevines had just begun to sprout, and the bright spring sunlight filtered through the sparse branches, casting dappled light on her face. Her once jet-black hair now bore a few silver strands.

A pang of sorrow struck Song Mo's heart. While the maids served tea, he stepped behind his mother, playfully resting his hands on her shoulders. "Mother, you have white hairs now. Shall I pluck them for you?"

Jiang Shi smiled faintly, eyeing the long silver strand in her son's fingers with a mix of nostalgia and contentment. "You're about to take a wife—it's only natural for me to grow old!"

No matter how composed and mature Song Mo usually was, he was still just a thirteen-year-old boy. His face flushed crimson as he protested, "Mother!"

His rare embarrassment amused Jiang Shi. With a chuckle, she asked, "How old was that girl you met in Zhen Ding?"

For her son to be so flustered, she must have been a bold, clever lass.

"Why do you ask?" Song Mo's face burned even hotter as he retorted, "She's already betrothed!"

The moment the words left his mouth, both mother and son froze.

A breeze rustled through the grapevine, causing the tender green buds to tremble.

Song Mo was mortified.

His mother had merely asked out of curiosity—why had he blurted something so revealing?

The thought made his cheeks burn even hotter. Desperate to change the subject, he stammered, "Master Yan suggested I befriend Wei Tingyu, and I think it's a good idea. I was just wondering how to ask Zong Yao to introduce us."

Jiang Shi gave him a knowing smile.

Though she felt a twinge of regret, she knew pressing further would risk the girl's reputation.

Song Mo, unable to bear the awkwardness, glanced around and asked, "Where's Father? I don't see him."

"He went to Third Princess's residence," she obliged, shifting the topic. "Your father didn't dare ask the Crown Prince to intervene, fearing it might implicate him. Instead, he hopes Third Princess can sound out the Emperor's stance." Her mood darkened. "I've already discussed it with Mr. Min. Since the Emperor has withheld the memorials defending your uncle, we'll have those who once served under him submit memorials impeaching him instead... Though those too closely associated shouldn't step forward, lest the Emperor grow suspicious... What worries me is that His Majesty may have already made up his mind, rendering our efforts futile..."

Third Princess Enrong was the eldest daughter of the Emperor and his late primary consort, Lady Shen.

Her husband, Shi Chonglan, was the younger brother of Marquis Changxing, Shi Duanlan, and had been childhood friends with the Duke of Yingguo—their bond was exceptionally strong.

But would it help?

They might as well bribe the grand eunuch Wang Yuan by the Emperor's side!

Song Mo nodded distractedly.

The atmosphere grew heavy and stifling.Song Mo clenched the brocade pouch in his palm, gathering his courage before softly calling out, "Mother." He lowered his voice, "I have something to tell you..."

"What?" Jiang Shi looked up, her eyes still clouded with confusion, clearly having missed his words.

Taking a deep breath, Song Mo was about to repeat himself when his mother suddenly straightened, her tone serious. "I’ve been thinking of arranging a marriage for you with your cousin Hanzhu from your second uncle’s family. What do you think?"

His eyes widened, and his lips pressed into a tight line.

Jiang Shi sighed inwardly, her voice cool with reason. "I know you’ve always been close to your cousin Xiexiu from your fourth uncle’s family. But Xiexiu is a child of a concubine. While our Jiang Family doesn’t mind, your father is strict about lineage. He would never agree. Your second uncle passed early, leaving only Hanzhu behind. Unlike your other cousins who have fathers or brothers to rely on, she’s been alone since childhood, with no one to lean on..."

Song Mo lowered his gaze.

Hanzhu had feelings for Yin Zhi, a nephew from the maternal side of the Jiang Family who trained in martial arts there.

His grandmother and Maternal Aunt knew. Maternal Aunt had even sent Yin Zhi to his uncle’s military camp, declaring, "The women of the Jiang Family don’t marry cowards. If you want Hanzhu, earn her with military merit."

Before leaving, Yin Zhi had entrusted Song Mo with a golden hairpin to pass to Hanzhu.

But in the face of life and death, what did such youthful affections matter?

Sunlight fell on his face, casting shadows from his long lashes.

"Marriage should be decided by parents," he said softly, his voice as gentle as a spring breeze. "I’ll follow your wishes."

Hearing her usually independent son speak so compliantly pierced Jiang Shi’s heart, cutting off her words and leaving her with a hollow ache.

Sensing her sorrow, Song Mo took her hand. "Mother, I’m not unhappy," he reassured her. "Hanzhu is a fine match—skilled in archery on horseback and calligraphy off it. With her here, you’ll have companionship... I’ll tell Father it was my choice, so he won’t object." He smiled at her then, bright and unclouded, like the rising sun.

Tears streamed down Jiang Shi’s face.

None of this was worth tears!

Song Mo pursed his lips and finally opened his palm, revealing the brocade pouch. "Mother, Xu Qing just delivered this..."

Jiang Shi stiffened, a foreboding tightening her chest. Before he could finish, she snatched the pouch.

Inside was a slip of paper no wider than two fingers, yet it weighed like a mountain.

She read it once, wiped her eyes, then read it again before looking up at her son, her face ashen. "Is this true?" Her voice was hoarse, her gaze unfocused.

Song Mo steeled himself and nodded.

The world seemed to spin around Jiang Shi, her sense of place slipping away.

Laughter and chatter drew nearer. The youthful voice of her younger son rang clear: "Hurry! I want to show Mother!"

Pulling herself together, she accepted the handkerchief from her eldest son and hastily dried her tears.

Song Mo straightened his posture.When Song Han came running over with a bow and arrows in hand, his mother and elder brother were sitting elegantly at the stone table beneath the grapevine, sipping tea.

He tugged at his mother's hand, cooing, "Mother, Mother, look, look!"

The page who had followed him knelt on the ground, holding up a bright red lacquered tray high in the air.

On the tray lay a plump golden pheasant, an arrow lodged diagonally in its back, the snow-white fletching exposed.

"Am I better than Brother?" Song Han asked smugly, glancing at his elder brother. "When Brother was ten and went hunting with Fifth Uncle, he didn’t catch anything at all!"

He was ten this year, three years younger than Song Mo.

Jiang Shi forced a smile and praised her younger son, "Yes, our Tianen is much better than your brother!"

Tianen was Song Han’s childhood name.

Despite the sorrow in his heart, Song Mo felt somewhat lighter at his brother’s innocent words.

This must be the golden pheasant raised in the family’s back garden.

His younger brother couldn’t even fully draw the specially made bow for him—how could he have shot so deeply?

Most likely, the pages had driven the pheasant right in front of him, and he had shot it at close range.

Or perhaps the pages had already killed the pheasant beforehand, and after Song Han randomly shot into the bushes, they had eagerly retrieved the already hidden bird...

Whether it was the former or the latter, Song Mo had no intention of disappointing his brother.

"Not bad at all!" Song Mo laughed. "The pupil surpasses the master."

Song Han grew even more pleased with himself. Pointing at the pheasant on the tray, he loudly ordered the page, "Take it to the kitchen and have the old women prepare it for dinner tonight."

The page bowed repeatedly and retreated with the tray.

Song Han squeezed in beside his mother, stretching like a little adult. "I’m so tired today!"

Both Jiang Shi and Song Mo smiled faintly.

Song Han’s eyes darted around before he suddenly jumped off the stone stool. "Mother, I’m going back to change my clothes."

"Go ahead," Jiang Shi said. She still had important matters to discuss with her eldest son and smiled as she gave a few instructions to the maids attending Song Han. Once her younger son’s figure disappeared through the doorway, her smile slowly faded.

"Tianci!" Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears as she spoke. "Does Mr. Min know yet? I’ll come to you later to discuss with Mr. Min, Mr. Luo, and Master Yan what we should do!" Her voice was calm and steady, already composed.

Mr. Min had been her eldest brother’s adviser. After the incident, he had rushed over from Fujian.

Mr. Luo, on the other hand, was the adviser her eldest brother had left at home to assist Fifth Uncle in managing household affairs.

Though Master Yan had once served as her eldest brother’s adviser, he had long since followed Song Mo and was now considered part of the Duke of Yingguo’s household. For matters concerning her eldest brother, Mr. Min and Mr. Luo would take the lead.

Song Mo felt proud that his mother hadn’t collapsed.

He respectfully acknowledged her words, agreed on the time for discussion, and then withdrew.

Jiang Shi sat there, her limbs weak, her mind blank.

But Song Mo noticed his younger brother hiding behind the thick trunk of a juniper tree at the entrance, waving at him.

He walked over with a smile.

"Brother," Song Han looked at Song Mo with concern and whispered, "Is Eldest Uncle going to be sent to the Imperial prison?"

Though both he and his mother had kept it from his younger brother, the matter concerning Eldest Uncle had already stirred up a storm in the city. Song Han was clever—he must have already found out. Keeping it from him further would only make him feel deceived. It was better to tell him the truth."Don't listen to nonsense." Song Mo paused briefly in thought, then said, "Uncle is just being questioned now. Once everything's clarified, he'll be fine." With a light laugh, he added, "Not just anyone qualifies for the Imperial prison!" Trying to lighten the mood.

Song Han studied his elder brother's expression carefully.

His brother raised an eyebrow, amusement glinting in his eyes.

Song Han's face flushed red, and he scampered off in a flash: "I understand now!"

His clear voice lingered in the air, bringing a faint smile to Song Mo's lips.