Blossom

The small river behind the mountain had clear water, its surface shimmering.

Song Mo stood by the riverbank, quietly gazing at the reflections of trees dancing in the flowing stream.

Dressed in a stone-blue brocade robe with a jade hairpin, his tall and straight figure exuded a tranquil aura. He seemed to blend into the woods behind him, merging with the gentle breeze and azure sky, his solitude carrying the crisp clarity of an autumn day.

Dou Zhao, who had just stepped out of her sedan chair, paused mid-step upon seeing him.

Hearing the sound, Song Mo turned his head and smiled. "You're here!"

His gaze was warm, his smile sincere, yet Dou Zhao suddenly lost her voice. "How have you grown so thin?"

His once flawless features had become more pronounced due to his gauntness, making even his smile appear solemn and stern.

"Have I?" Song Mo chuckled. "I hadn’t noticed."

Dou Zhao sighed inwardly.

Anyone who had gone through what he had would surely toss and turn, unable to eat or sleep peacefully—let alone while still recovering from injuries. That he could stand before her at all was no small feat.

She couldn’t help but ask, "How are your injuries?"

"Not bad," Song Mo replied tersely, clearly reluctant to discuss it. "Gu Yu helped me secure the best Imperial Physician from the Imperial Hospital. They all said recovery can’t be rushed—it requires slow recuperation. These days, I’ve just been lying around, eating and resting, not going anywhere." Then, with a smile, he added, "I heard your coming-of-age ceremony was quite lively. A pity I couldn’t attend to congratulate you..." A faint regret flickered in his eyes, genuine in his disappointment.

Dou Zhao, however, couldn’t help but silently retort.

Even if you hadn’t gotten caught up in this mess, even if you weren’t injured—could you have come? Under what identity? With what excuse?

The thought passed, and she chided herself for overthinking.

Was there anything Song Mo wanted to do that he couldn’t accomplish?

Perhaps it was for the best that he hadn’t been able to attend.

If he had found an excuse to openly associate with her, how could she have avoided getting entangled in the affairs of the Song family later?

Then she thought of Ji Yong.

Why was it that every person she met had such a temperament?

And then Wu Shan and Wei Tingyu... She found both Song Mo and Ji Yong equally headache-inducing.

Deciding not to dwell on it, she glanced around and pointed to a large bluestone nearby. "Shall we sit over there?" The moment she spoke, she realized the suggestion might be inappropriate—rumor had it Song Mo’s injuries were severe. She had no idea how he was faring now. Hastily, she added, "Never mind, let’s just stand and talk." She couldn’t help but wonder if standing like this was taxing for him...

Song Mo looked at her and smiled, the warmth spreading from the depths of his eyes to the corners of his brows.

Softly, he said, "I’m fine. The external injuries have long healed. As for the internal ones... My uncle believed that external martial arts were too aggressive. Since our Song family serves as the Emperor’s close aides, he thought it unseemly for me to practice them. Years ago, he specially sought a master to teach me internal cultivation techniques. This kind of training is like simmering tea over a low flame—it must be done slowly. There’s no need to rush."

"That’s good," Dou Zhao replied, recalling how Duan Gongyi had once remarked that Song Mo seemed to have trained in some unique martial arts. Considering that both the Jiang and Song families were centuries-old prestigious clans, they surely had self-preservation techniques unknown to outsiders.

Song Mo smiled faintly. "Last time, you mentioned that the farmstead had wild vegetables. Do they grow on this back mountain? I haven’t spotted a single one."

Dou Zhao couldn’t resist teasing, "Do you even recognize wild vegetables?""I know them!" Song Mo laughed. "I didn't recognize them before, but after returning, I had people gather some samples... The rare ones I still don't know. But the common ones I've learned."

That can't be right!

Dou Zhao blinked in surprise.

Yet Song Mo nodded at her with complete seriousness.

Dou Zhao glanced around, plucked a plant with oval-shaped leaves, and brought it back: "What's this?"

"This..." Song Mo had never seen it before and immediately broke into a sweat, murmuring uncertainly, "It should be... knotweed?"

He really did put in the effort!

Dou Zhao thought to herself.

"Wrong!" she said solemnly. "This is sorrel."

Sorrel and knotweed look very similar, except one has longer, narrower leaves while the other's are rounder.

Song Mo wiped his brow in embarrassment.

Dou Zhao burst into laughter.

Her smile, mischievous and sly, carried a carefree exuberance that brightened Song Mo's gloomy heart.

He couldn't help but laugh along.

The smile softened Song Mo's features, revealing a glimpse of his youthful beauty.

Dou Zhao sighed inwardly, feeling regret.

Such a beautiful young man, yet Song Yichun had ruthlessly turned him into a killer.

"This is also called sourgrass," she said, waving the sorrel in her hand. "It's a summer wild vegetable. After picking, wash it clean, blanch it briefly in boiling water, and it's ready to eat. It has cooling properties that clear heat from the blood."

Song Mo took the sorrel from Dou Zhao and smiled. "Last time it was okra. You seem to know a lot about these things."

"Yes," Dou Zhao replied, looking up at the three wild peach trees across the river. "I grew up here. As a child, I often went into the mountains with the village kids to pick wild vegetables and waded into the river to catch fish." She pointed to a bend in the river. "See that spot? In summer, there are lots of wild fish there..." She turned back to him with a smile. "Can you keep walking?"

"Yes!" Song Mo nodded. "I can manage."

"Come on, I'll take you somewhere!" Dou Zhao said cheerfully as she walked ahead. "If you feel tired, just say so." She paused slightly. "Don't push yourself too hard—that's no fun."

"Got it!" Song Mo laughed and followed Dou Zhao as they crossed the river by stepping on stones.

Dou Zhao nimbly climbed up a wild peach tree.

Without hesitation, Song Mo climbed up after her.

From there, he saw vast fields and two villages. The one to the east was Dou Zhao's farmstead, with a blue-brick house standing in the center, surrounded by low thatched huts. The other village was unfamiliar to him. Both villages were similar in size and layout, and he could even make out the figures of farmers working in the fields and people moving about in the blue-brick house.

Dou Zhao pointed to the unfamiliar village and said with a smile, "That's the Lang family's farmstead. The Langs rarely come here. The Manor Head is a thin old man with a plump, fair-skinned wife who loves to drink. Whenever she gets drunk, she chases the old Manor Head around, and he curses as he runs into the fields. Then everyone in the farmstead comes out to watch the commotion..."

Song Mo couldn't help but chuckle.

He could almost picture a young Dou Zhao, eyes curved with amusement, lying here watching the Lang family's Manor Head and his wife fight... The ridiculous uproar washed over his cold heart like a warm current, filling him with warmth.

But then Dou Zhao's expression suddenly turned grave.She gazed into Song Mo's eyes and said solemnly, "I don't know why your father would frame you!"

Song Mo's smile froze at the corners of his lips.

Dou Zhao turned her head away, her eyes once again fixed on the two seemingly close villages.

"Do you know my mother hanged herself?" In her previous life, she often stood here gazing at these two villages, but in this life, she rarely had such opportunities. "I often wonder, why did she have to hang herself? Was I not worth staying for? In this world, who would truly care about me? Who would defend me regardless of life or death? Am I even worse than the village's Lai San? Even though he gets bullied outside every day, his mother still treats him like a treasure..." A trace of confusion flashed in her eyes. "Sometimes I think about it until I nearly go mad, then I run wildly through the mountains... One Mid-Autumn Festival, my third uncle sent me a box of Beijing-style mooncakes. For some reason, I felt restless. As soon as he left, I ran up the mountain and suddenly looked up to see these three wild peach trees... I was wearing new clothes at the time... Like the village children, I climbed the tree, tore my clothes, but saw the old Manor Head of the Lang family being chased and beaten by his wife..." Perhaps recalling the scene, Dou Zhao curled her lips into a smile. Then she pointed to the westernmost house in Lang Village and said, "That household has two daughters. Their father carries a peddler's pole during the farming off-season, traveling from village to village, and always brings them two baked cakes when he returns." She then pointed to another house. "The mother-in-law there is very strict. If the daughter-in-law is slightly slow, she stands under the eaves and scolds her. But once when the daughter-in-law fell ill, she immediately went to the city to fetch a doctor and even helped brew the medicine..." Dou Zhao looked intently at Song Mo, her eyes bright and lively. "You see, there are bad things in this world, but there are also good ones. If you meet more people or experience more things, you'll find that the good still outweighs the bad!"

Was she advising him not to take his father's betrayal to heart?

Song Mo's vision blurred slightly.

He wasn't sure if it was because of Dou Zhao's words or her thoughtfulness toward him.

"I just find it hard to trust my own father," Dou Zhao's voice, sometimes loud and sometimes soft, reached his ears. "So when I heard that Master Yan and Xu Qing were being hunted, I paid attention and sent Duan Gongyi and Chen Xiaofeng to the capital to gather information. If you were indeed framed by your father as I suspected, I wanted to lend a hand. If not... better safe than sorry. Consider it an unnecessary worry on my part!"

Song Mo laughed, a bitter laugh. "Thank goodness for your unnecessary worry, or I might have already lost my life."

Dou Zhao didn't respond. She looked down at the two farmsteads below.

It was nearly noon, and wisps of cooking smoke rose from the villages.

Song Mo followed Dou Zhao's gaze.

Women carrying meals greeted each other in small groups, laughing as they walked together toward the fields.

The quiet villages were enlivened by their laughter, not with noise and clamor, but with vibrant energy.

Song Mo felt his heart grow as calm and light as the villages.

He turned to look at Dou Zhao beside him and softly said, "Thank you.""No need to be polite," Dou Zhao said with a smile. "You'll find that time flies like an arrow. The things that seem unbearable in one moment will soon be forgotten once that moment passes, and even the pain will fade away."

Xia Lian, who was hiding behind the trees watching Song Mo and Dou Zhao from a distance, was filled with worry. "What on earth does the Young Lord and Miss Dou the Fourth have to say? Why did they climb up a tree?"

Chen He, recalling Dou Zhao's warning to him—"no next time"—pursed his lips.

Miss Dou the Fourth must be telling the Young Lord about how she discovered the Duke of Yingguo's schemes against him.

Distracted by this thought, he replied absentmindedly, "Perhaps it's something important. Talking in a tree must mean they don’t want to be overheard."

"Really?" Xia Lian was skeptical. "This back mountain is so secluded even a mosquito couldn’t sneak in. Who could possibly eavesdrop on the Young Lord and the Fourth Miss?"

Ever since the "robbery" incident at the Duke of England's Mansion, both the Duke of Yingguo and the Young Lord had been surrounded by highly skilled guards. Even when coming to Zhen Ding, the Young Lord had brought ample protection.