Blossom

The green-canopied official sedan chair meandered slowly to the entrance of Shuntian Prefecture School Lane.

Two guards dressed in plain clothes silently followed behind the sedan chair.

The bearers paid them no heed.

After passing the Shuntian Prefecture School, a steward-like figure darted out from under the eaves and walked alongside the sedan.

Once they reached the main street, servants carrying lanterns appeared ahead of the procession.

Only then did the sedan chair begin to resemble the modest retinue befitting a second-rank official.

The large red lanterns bore a prominent character: "Dou."

In the darkness, it stood out unmistakably.

The night patrol officers who saw it not only refrained from questioning but actively stepped aside to make way.

The sedan entered one of the Capital's most famous pleasure quarters—Cuihua Lane.

The officers exchanged knowing glances, their faces revealing the lewd envy shared among men. One of them sighed, "Even the Grand Secretary is no different!"

The others chuckled darkly, their expressions as vulgar as could be.

The occupant of the sedan remained unaware.

Had anyone been following them closely, they would have noticed the sedan swaying through Cuihua Lane in a full circle before the outer curtains turned sapphire blue, and the embroidered ribbons with gold-and-silver dragon patterns on the sedan flaps vanished.

After leaving Cuihua Lane, the sedan wound halfway around the city before stopping in front of a shop on Gulou Street near Andingmen Avenue, its sign reading "Dou's Stationery."

A servant hurried forward with a lantern to lift the sedan flap.

An elderly scholar in a blue cotton robe stepped out, gently knocking on the stationery shop's door while calling, "Manager Fan!"

※※※※※

Song Mo found himself standing in a dense fog.

The thick, swirling mist obscured his path, leaving him disoriented—unable to see where he had come from or where he was headed.

He wandered aimlessly through the fog.

Damp, clinging, and piercingly cold.

How had he gotten here?

He suddenly halted.

Silence enveloped him, not a sound to be heard.

He pressed forward, as if pushing through layers of sheer gauze, one after another, with no end in sight.

Why?

He asked.

No one answered.

His pace quickened.

The fog grew thicker.

Why?

He shouted angrily ahead.

The mist seemed to recoil from his fury, parting briefly before him.

Then he saw someone walking ahead, carrying a lantern.

Its glow was soft and pure in the oppressive fog.

So he wasn’t alone!

A surge of excitement filled him, bringing calm, steadiness, and composure.

But the fog swiftly closed in again, denser than before, blocking his sight and extinguishing the light.

Humiliation and fury melded into defiance, engulfing him like a raging flood.

He roared into the void—"Why?"

Again and again. Over and over.

The fog parted and gathered, gathered and parted.

The faint glow flickered intermittently ahead.

That light became an obsession in his heart.

With a thunderous crash, the mist suddenly dispersed, revealing a hazy golden radiance.

Warm and serene, it filled his vision.

He strained to open his eyes.

His sight gradually sharpened.

A verdigris bronze lamp, surrounded by birds, burned with an orange flame.

Beside him, someone exhaled deeply: "Young Lord, you’ve finally awakened!"He followed the voice and saw Chen Qushui's thin yet refined face.

"Where... where is this?" His eyes showed surprise as he realized he was lying on a bed. He tried to move but found his limbs stiff and weak. Quickly scanning the surroundings, he took in the cramped space—white Korean paper pasted on the window lattice, simple black-lacquered furniture, and no one else around. It looked like a servant's side room.

Chen Qushui brought him a bowl of warm water mixed with honey and fed him while explaining, "This is the stationery shop opened by the Fourth Miss. You were unconscious, so we had no choice but to bring you here first."

Dou Zhao!

It was actually Dou Zhao who had saved him!

Song Mo couldn't hide his shock. "How did the Fourth Miss know I was in trouble?"

"Master Yan and Xu Qing were being hunted..." Chen Qushui recounted how Yan Chaoqing had entrusted Lu Ming to seek Dou Zhao's help.

Song Mo pressed his lips together, a cold glint flashing in his eyes as his hands slowly clenched into fists.

Holding the small bowl, Chen Qushui sighed inwardly.

He had been preparing to flee when he encountered Duan Gongyi, who had scaled the wall with Chen Xiaofeng and the others. From Duan Gongyi, he had learned the full story and couldn't help but say, "The young lady found it very strange at the time. If this matter was targeting the Jiang Family, why would they repeatedly send Martial Retainers to hunt down two people who were neither Jiang blood nor Jiang relatives? It made no sense. Then, when the Fourth Miss questioned Lu Ming, she realized that several of your key people were not in the Capital. She suspected this was aimed at you and immediately sent Duan Gongyi with the most skilled guards to rush over. Who would have thought..." Recalling the horror of seeing Song Mo covered in wounds, Chen Qushui felt a surge of relief. "Thankfully, the Fourth Miss didn’t hesitate, otherwise..."

Otherwise, even if he had survived, he would have been cast out of the family!

Song Mo’s mind conjured Dou Zhao’s delicate yet spirited face.

His father had tried to kill him.

And Dou Zhao, whom he had nearly killed, had saved him instead.

Was there anything more absurd in this world?

A mocking smile tugged at his lips.

Chen Qushui, however, was unsettled by his expression, remembering the words Dou Zhao had entrusted Duan Gongyi to relay.

He had to rouse Song Mo’s fighting spirit—not let him succumb to despair and drift aimlessly!

His eyes flickered as he said, "It’s a pity we didn’t have enough people. Otherwise, Guardian Yu and Chen Tao... it’s probably too late now..." He sighed regretfully.

Song Mo remained silent, struggling to prop himself up.

Chen Qushui hurried to assist, but Song Mo gestured for him to stop. "Please convey my gratitude to Guardian Duan and Guardian Chen on my behalf. As for the Fourth Miss..." He paused briefly, warmth seeping into his gaze, softening his expression. "Such a great kindness cannot be repaid with mere words. I won’t say more."

Chen Qushui’s heart lifted with joy.

It seemed Song Mo was far more resilient than he had imagined.

He quickly replied, "I dare not take credit. I was merely following the young lady’s orders."

Song Mo didn’t dwell on the matter further and instead asked, "How long was I unconscious?"

His gaze was calm, his tone composed, exuding the dignified composure of a nobleman.

"Six hours!" Chen Qushui answered.

Meaning it was now mid-morning the next day.Father had arranged with Uncle and the two other uncles to open the ancestral hall at 8 a.m., but now he’s nowhere to be found—if he were merely the eldest son of the Duke of Yingguo, with Father as the clan head making the proposal and the elders raising no objections, his presence wouldn’t matter. They could immediately strike his name from the Song family genealogy. But he isn’t just the heir of the Duke of England's Mansion. He also holds a hereditary fourth-rank Vice Commissioner position. Expelling him would mean revoking his status as heir, which in turn would require submitting a memorial to the Emperor for approval and reporting it to the Ministry of Personnel. Without a seemingly justifiable reason, the Emperor would never agree. This was why Father had suggested postponing the ancestral hall ceremony until the next day.

To ensure everything went smoothly, Father must have had some preparations to make in advance.

Now that he’s been rescued and isn’t present, forget about expelling him from the family—even all the previous schemes would likely come to nothing, wouldn’t they?

Father must be suffering from a terrible headache right now.

Song Mo felt a piercing pain in his heart.

He couldn’t help but close his eyes.

The room fell into silence, and the atmosphere grew increasingly oppressive with it.

Only when Chen Qushui was nearly suffocating from the tension did Song Mo slowly open his eyes and ask, “How are my injuries?”

He couldn’t feel any pain.

Chen Qushui hesitated for a moment before replying softly, “Your injuries are quite severe. Since we didn’t dare call for a physician, Duan Gongyi used his sect’s healing medicine on you. Still… it would be best to have an Imperial Physician examine you as soon as possible…”

The medicine must contain some form of anesthetic!

Song Mo said calmly, “This isn’t the time to see an Imperial Physician. Have Guardian Duan give me a few more pills.”

“But…”

“I know,” Song Mo said. “With injuries this severe, any medicine strong enough to numb the pain must be potent—and likely have side effects. But it’s still better than losing my life, isn’t it?” He gazed at Chen Qushui with an air of indifference.

For the first time, Chen Qushui’s eyes revealed a trace of admiration as he looked at Song Mo.

Six days and five nights of relentless riding, the torment of broken bones and battered flesh, the grief of losing his mother, the cruelty of his father—none of it had broken his spirit. The moment he regained consciousness, he began assessing his situation.

Such unyielding resolve was truly rare!

In a few more years, what family wouldn’t be proud to have him as their pillar?

This thought made Chen Qushui even more puzzled by the Duke of Yingguo’s actions.

Why would he abandon such an outstanding eldest son?

The moment this thought surfaced, Chen Qushui suppressed it—the Duke of England's Mansion was a prestigious aristocratic family with a century of influence. Its waters ran deep, far beyond what people like them could fathom.

He gave a slight nod.

A flicker of relief passed through Song Mo’s eyes.

He asked Chen Qushui softly, “Can you deliver a few letters for me?”

Chen Qushui barely managed to suppress the excitement in his heart and replied in his usual gentle tone, “The Fourth Young Lady said that the Young Lord’s orders are to be treated as her own.”

In truth, Dou Zhao’s exact words had been: “If you manage to rescue Song Mo in time, have him contact those he trusts immediately. If he asks you to run errands or deliver letters, you may assist him. But if it’s anything else, tell him you lack the manpower and can’t afford to get involved. Don’t entangle yourselves further! Saving his life is already going above and beyond—there’s no need to risk your own necks.”

But Chen Qushui felt that since they had already decided to help Song Mo, they might as well do it more elegantly.

The corners of Song Mo’s lips lifted slightly.

Fourth Young Lady…

※※※※※Seeing Chen Qushui emerge from the side room, Duan Gongyi and Chen Xiaofeng immediately stepped forward and asked in hushed tones, "How did it go?"

Chen Qushui waved the letter in his hand.

Duan Gongyi grinned broadly.

Chen Xiaofeng also let out a sigh of relief.

When the ruler demands a subject's death, the subject has no choice but to die. When a father demands his child's demise, the child has no choice but to perish.

They had gone to such great lengths to rescue Song Mo. If Song Mo still didn't find a way out for himself, it would be utterly pointless.

Only then did Duan Gongyi yawn, exhaustion evident in his voice as he said, "Which letters am I responsible for delivering? Once I'm done, I can finally get some sleep."

He had rushed back to Zhen Ding from the Capital, covered in dust, barely had time to bathe before making the grueling journey back to the Capital day and night—he was utterly spent.

Chen Qushui quickly replied, "You two should rest! It's just delivering a few letters, not going into battle. Cui Shisan and I can handle it." Then he mentioned Song Mo's request for medicine.

Duan Gongyi fell silent for a long moment before saying, "The Young Lord makes a valid point. A true man would rather die standing than live on his knees." With that, he headed to the side room.

Chen Xiaofeng and Chen Qushui sighed in unison.

Chen Qushui went to arrange the letter deliveries with Cui Shisan.

After some thought, Chen Xiaofeng followed him. "Mr. Chen, let me go with you. Unlike Uncle Duan, I haven't made two round trips between Zhen Ding and the Capital in just a few days..."