Blossom

After that day, Mother fell ill.

Dou Zhao was very worried and stayed by Mother's side every day.

Mother smiled and patted her head, saying, "Mother is fine, I'll get better soon. Go play by yourself!" But her face grew paler with each passing day.

Father came to see her.

Mother took Father's hand in hers.

Father's fingers were slender, fair, and well-defined, standing tall like jade bamboo.

"I love it most when you smile," Mother said, pressing Father's hand against her cheek. "Every time you look at me and smile, I think to myself, how can someone laugh so joyfully, so carefree? Like the spring sunshine, warming the heart."

"The physician said your pulse is steady. Rest well, and you'll recover soon," Father said, his eyes reddening. "When you're better, I'll smile for you every day."

"Silly!" Mother smiled faintly, looking at him as if he were a mischievous child, with a hint of indulgence in her gaze. "People smile when they're happy together. If you're not happy, you won't smile naturally. Don't force yourself."

Father was taken aback.

Mother then laughed and said, "I just wanted you to come and apologize, to say you've been miserable without me."

Father was stunned, then chuckled awkwardly. "I really haven't been used to you ignoring me."

"Without me around, you're just not used to it!" Mother teased Father, her eyes gentle and forgiving, though her voice gradually softened. "I thought only my presence could make you laugh so heartily. Turns out, others can bring you the same joy..."

Father didn't catch what Mother said next. He leaned over her bedside and asked softly, "What did you say?"

"Nothing!" Mother smiled. "I'm just a little tired."

"Then rest your voice," Father said, holding her hand. "I'll stay here with you until you fall asleep."

Mother nodded and closed her eyes, soon drifting off.

Dou Zhao, who had been eavesdropping, ran out and hurled the small sandbag from the heated kang onto the floor.

What was this?

Making up as if nothing had happened?

The thought flashed through her mind, leaving her deflated.

But what could she do if they didn't make up?

She still needed a younger brother!

Yet why did it feel like a pair of hands were squeezing her heart, making her chest feel tight?

Dou Zhao sat blankly by the kang.

Father emerged from the inner room and, seeing Dou Zhao, paused slightly before sitting beside her. "Shou Gu, everyone says you're clever and can now speak in long sentences. Say something for me?"

Dou Zhao glanced at Father and lowered her head to play with the sandbag.

Father, in good spirits, smiled and asked, "This sandbag is quite delicate. Who made it for you?"

Dou Zhao still ignored him.

Unfazed, Father chuckled and picked her up. "Come, let me teach you how to write!"

"I don't like writing," Dou Zhao said rebelliously. "I want to swing!"

"Alright!" Father laughed. "Let's go swing."

The backyard was still lush with competing greenery.

After swinging for a while with Father, Dou Zhao's mood gradually lifted.

Perhaps Mother was right.

Taking the initiative to reconcile and keeping Father close... was better than this cold war, where neither could find a way to back down.

She began to see Father in a better light.

"Daddy, swing me higher!"

"Alright!"

Father sent her soaring into the air.She felt as if she were riding the wind, every blade of grass and tree in the Dou estate magnifying and shrinking beneath her feet. She saw someone washing clothes by the well in the side courtyard, saw Ding Yinyinai scolding a young maid under the eaves, saw her mother’s courtyard quiet and devoid of any figures… It was as though everything around her was within her sight. The sensation was wonderfully peculiar and amusing.

Dou Zhao’s laughter scattered like pearls upon a jade plate, clear and melodious.

Father also raised his brows and smiled.

Only Tuo Niang foolishly jumped out, blocking Dou Shiying’s path: “Seventh Master, it’s too high! Fourth Miss might fall—please put her down!”

Dou Shiying recognized Tuo Niang and laughed. “I didn’t expect you to be so fiercely loyal!” He didn’t scold her but instead stepped around her, giving Dou Zhao, seated on the swing, another strong push.

Tuo Niang was frantic, sweat beading on her forehead.

Dou Zhao basked in Tuo Niang’s concern, laughing heartily.

She saw Yu Momo hurrying out of her mother’s room, standing on the steps beneath the eaves and calling out. Instantly, maids and serving women who had been nowhere in sight surged forward like a tide, only to scatter in all directions, creating a chaotic scene.

What had happened?

As the swing rose again, Dou Zhao craned her neck to look toward the main courtyard.

The young maids remained in disarray, but Yu Momo had vanished.

Dou Zhao grew suspicious and called to her father, “Stop, stop!”

Father caught the swing and chuckled. “So our Shou Gu is a little coward.”

Dou Zhao didn’t argue. The moment her feet touched the ground, Yu Momo came running over, pale-faced and gasping for breath.

“Seventh Master,” she said, tears welling in her reddened eyes, looking as though she might break down at any moment. “Seventh Madam… Seventh Madam has… committed suicide by hanging!”

“What did you say?” Father’s eyes widened, his smile frozen on his face. “Who? Who hanged herself?”

“Seventh Madam, Seventh Madam…” Yu Momo sobbed, her legs giving way as she collapsed to her knees. “Seventh Madam has hanged herself…”

Dou Shiying looked around in a daze.

Only when he saw his daughter standing motionless beside him, as if under a spell, did he feel a sliver of reality.

“How could this be… She was fine just now…” he murmured, his tall frame suddenly seeming to shrink, his face ashen, lips pale and trembling uncontrollably.

Dou Zhao had lost the ability to speak. Her mind roared like a stampede of horses, thundering ceaselessly.

Why did Mother still have to die?

Hadn’t Wang Yingxue become a concubine?

Even if she bore a son, he would only be a firstborn of the concubine line…

Why did Mother still have to die?

Then what was the point of her coming back?

Dou Zhao pressed her lips stubbornly together, her small hands clenched into tight fists.

The gentle warmth of spring sunlight bathed the two figures, one large and one small, standing as still as clay statues. Only the swing continued to sway, attracting a few colorful butterflies that fluttered around it, vying in their delicate dance.

※※※※※

Dou Zhao knelt before the spirit tablet, clad in coarse mourning robes, her expression numb as she mechanically kowtowed and returned bows in response to the ritual chants.

Her mother had died by suicide by hanging, which could not be considered a peaceful end. With elders still living, the funeral rites could last no longer than thirty-five days.

With no one to oversee the household, Grandfather had asked Third Uncle and Third Aunt to help arrange Mother’s funeral and even offered the nanmu coffin he had prepared for himself to be used for her.

As mourners came to pay their respects and offer incense, they inevitably inquired about the cause of death.The Dou family publicly claimed it was a sudden illness that took her life, and those who heard couldn't help but shed tears: "...She wasn't even twenty yet!"

Dou Zhao's eyes reddened as well.

Yes, how could she have forgotten? Though her mother was her mother, she hadn't even reached twenty years of age!

The understanding she had gained at thirty—how could she have expected her twenty-year-old mother to comprehend it?

Some wounds, buried deep in the heart, may fester unseen beneath the surface, leaving no outward trace.

Mother had never truly been at peace, had she? Never truly let go?

Dou Zhao looked across the room.

Her father, dressed in plain white mourning clothes, looked haggard, his face ashen and eyes sunken.

He knelt before the mourning basin, meticulously burning paper offerings for her mother, his expression solemn and devout, as though handling sacred talismans.

Wang Yingxue, her eyes red-rimmed, approached and knelt beside him. Silently, she picked up a stack of paper offerings, tore them one by one, and tossed them into the basin alongside him.

"Seventh Master," she said hoarsely, voice choked with emotion, "you've been kneeling here for a full day and night. If you keep this up, you'll ruin your health... Sister's funeral arrangements still depend on you!"

Father remained silent, gently taking the paper offerings from her hands and continuing his task.

A flicker of embarrassment crossed Wang Yingxue's face. After kneeling there for a long while without so much as a glance from him, her eyes dimmed, and she quietly withdrew.

Sixth Uncle came over and took Father by the arm. "Wanyuan, don't do this. The departed are gone; the living must take care of themselves."

Father refused to rise.

Before his close friend and cousin, he broke down in quiet sobs. "Gu Qiu and I had agreed—five sons and three daughters... Now she's gone, and there isn't even a child to carry her spirit... Just let me burn a few more paper offerings for her... My heart is truly broken..."

Sixth Uncle stamped his foot, eyes glistening. "Even if you're grieving, now isn't the time!" His voice grew heavier. "Ruifu has returned! He didn't participate in the Imperial Academy's selection..."

Dou Zhao looked up.

Ruifu was the courtesy name of her maternal uncle, Zhao Si.

"By my calculations, he should arrive soon." Sixth Uncle's voice was bitter. "Have you thought about what you'll say when you see Ruifu? Third Brother and the others are all in Uncle's study. We need to agree on an explanation beforehand..."

"An explanation? What explanation?" Father murmured, his mind clearly adrift. "It's all my fault... When Yu Momo said she would hang herself, I thought she was just threatening me... But she truly had lost all hope in me... And I was oblivious, smugly thinking I'd won... She said she'd wait for me to apologize, to admit that without her, my life would be miserable..." He collapsed before his wife's spirit tablet, weeping uncontrollably. "I didn't know it would come to this, truly didn't know... I promised her brother I'd take good care of Gu Qiu, that I'd treat her well for the rest of our lives... I broke my word... She called me despicable... And she was absolutely right..."

"Wanyuan, Wanyuan!" Sixth Uncle wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and pulled at Father with all his might. "We'll talk about this later. Right now, the priority is giving Ruifu an answer. You can't act on emotion alone."Father shook his head, his heart as desolate as death, and said, "I've wronged Gu Qiu. After I finish arranging her funeral, he can deal with me however he sees fit!"

The sixth uncle was furious and called in two pages to drag Father away to Crane Longevity Hall.

Dou Zhao ran outside.

Wang Yingxue stood under the magnolia tree outside the mourning hall, staring blankly at the retreating figures of Father and the sixth uncle.

Dou Zhao called out to her, "Wang Yiniang!"

Wang Yingxue turned around, glanced at the maids outside the mourning hall, and walked over with a composed smile. "Shou Gu, what is it?" Her tone was gentle.

"You really want to have a son, don't you?" Dou Zhao looked up, her dark eyes fixed intently on Wang Yingxue's, speaking in a voice so low only the two of them could hear. "But, unfortunately, this time you'll give birth to a daughter! Once the mourning period is over and the new mistress enters the household, I wonder if she'll be as easygoing as my mother?"

"You—" Wang Yingxue recoiled in horror, stepping back repeatedly, her gaze as if she had seen a monster.

Dou Zhao was satisfied.

With a cold curl of her lips, she walked past Wang Yingxue, her posture as straight and unyielding as a pine tree.