Blossom

At this moment, Ma Jun's wife in Dou Ming's inner chamber was drenched in sweat.

She had never dreamed that Dou Ming would attempt to hang herself.

If something happened to the Fifth Miss under her watch, how could she ever face Second Madam and Fifth Madam?

Looking at Dou Ming, who had regained consciousness but whose eyes were vacant and lifeless as if her soul had fled, Ma Jun's wife couldn't help but feel terrified. Her face pale, she urgently shouted at the panicked maids around her, "What are you all standing around for like fools? Hurry and see why the physician hasn't arrived yet! If anything happens to the young miss, none of you will live to see another day!"

One of the maids gasped and rushed out of the inner chamber.

Suddenly, Dou Ming blinked, and a faint light gradually returned to her eyes.

Ma Jun's wife was both startled and overjoyed. She leaned over and called out "Fifth Miss," her voice already choked with emotion.

Dou Ming sat up.

Ma Jun's wife hurriedly fetched a large bolster herself and placed it behind Dou Ming's back.

But Dou Ming threw off the covers, slipped on her shoes, and attempted to get out of bed.

"My dear young miss," Ma Jun's wife said softly, her tone pleading, "you're still weak. Whatever you need, just order this servant—there's no need to exert yourself..."

Without a word, Dou Ming pushed Ma Jun's wife aside and staggered forward in her shoes.

"Fifth Miss, Fifth Miss..." Ma Jun's wife trailed anxiously behind Dou Ming, wanting to persuade her to return to bed and rest. But seeing her determined "no one will stop me" expression and hearing the commotion outside, she recalled Fifth Madam's hints before their departure. Her steps faltered, and she allowed Dou Ming to lift the curtain and step out.

Dou Ming froze momentarily at the sight of Dou Wenchang, his eyes filled with grief and indignation. Then, from the corner of her eye, she noticed Ji Yong sitting leisurely in a corner sipping tea. Hatred surged within her, making her grit her teeth.

What was he doing here?

That troublemaker who loved to stir the pot!

One day, she would make him pay.

She shouted at Wei Tingzhen, who was in the midst of a tirade, "Stop arguing!"

Only then did everyone realize that Dou Ming had emerged from the inner chamber at some point, leaning weakly against the doorframe with tears in her eyes.

As if cut off by a knife, the noise inside and outside the room ceased abruptly. The silence was so profound one could hear a pin drop.

"Stop arguing!" Dou Ming panted lightly, her frail body seeming as if it might collapse at the slightest breeze. Tears streamed down her face. "Stop arguing. Last night, the Marquis was drunk—I merely took care of him through the night. Nothing happened! As for marrying in my sister's stead, whatever consequences arise, I alone will bear them!" Her gaze settled on Dou Wenchang. "Eldest Cousin, I have shamed the Dou family and you. That is my fault. There's no need to quarrel with the Wei family on my behalf. Let them decide my fate—whether to kill or spare me." She then turned to Wei Tingyu, her almond eyes as cold as a century-old glacier, piercing and frigid.

Wei Tingyu was stunned.

Wei Tingzhen's eyes widened. She shot to her feet with a "thud."

"I alone am responsible for my actions!" Dou Ming sneered, her lips curling with disdain. "What do you want? Just say it outright—there's no need to humiliate our Dou family like this!"Thinking that Dou Ming's attempted suicide by hanging might make the Dou family's attitude extremely aggressive, and deciding to let his wife tangle with the Dou family for a while before reasoning with them to salvage some of the declining situation, Zhang Yuanming, who had been silently watching from the sidelines, couldn't help but let out a soft "hmm." His gaze toward Dou Ming became somewhat more serious, and even Ji Yong straightened his posture upon hearing this.

Wei Tingyu, however, was so furious he wanted to stomp his feet.

Your Dou family caused the sisters' marriage swap, and now you think you're in the right?

And you want me to handle it?

You think I don’t dare to do anything to you?

Wei Tingyu pointed at Dou Ming and scolded without restraint: "Who do you think you are? One must answer for their own actions. Can you bear that responsibility? What right do you have to bear it? Don’t think I don’t know—your mother was just a concubine who was elevated to wife status. If it weren’t for your grandfather’s influence, forget marrying into our Wei family, you wouldn’t even have the right to step into the Marquis of Jining's Mansion! And you say you’ll leave it to me to decide? If you really wanted to die, you should have done it when no one was around! Causing a scene now—don’t think I’m a fool..."

Dou Ming said nothing and instead lunged toward a nearby pillar.

The loud "thud, thud, thud" echoed like drumbeats, striking deep into everyone’s hearts.

"Fifth Miss!" Before anyone could react, Wei Tingyu rushed over and wrapped his arms around Dou Ming’s waist. "Don’t do this!" he shouted. "I believe you! I believe you!" His eyes grew moist, as if he were on the verge of tears.

Wei Tingzhen was stunned, then erupted in furious scolding: "You fool! This is just a woman’s petty trick! You—you should let go of her right now! Don’t worry, she won’t die—she can’t die! She’s still waiting to become the Madam of the Marquis of Jining's Mansion! Look around the entire Capital—who else her age has become a marquis’s wife? She’s basking in her pride right now..."

So what if that were true?

Wei Tingyu remembered the first time he spoke to Dou Ming—how she had smiled warmly while telling him, "My mother was a concubine who was elevated to wife status, and my sister and I don’t get along," her seemingly casual words masking the sorrow in her eyes. He recalled how she had tilted her head and cheerfully said, "You’d better work hard and win my father’s favor, or you won’t get to marry my sister," her playful tone belying the melancholy hidden in her expression. He thought of how, after being coldly dismissed by his father-in-law, he had walked out of the study in frustration, only for Dou Ming to peek out from behind the lush flowering trees with a mischievous smile. And then—when she had stepped forward and loudly declared to everyone that there was nothing between them, her resolute expression; when she had claimed responsibility for the marriage swap, her grief and indignation—all of it felt like a piece of his heart had been gouged out, leaving him in unbearable pain."Sister!" he bellowed, cutting off Wei Tingzhen's words. "No matter how flawed she is, she hasn't lied!" Memories flooded back—of his childhood, gazing at the brilliantly lit mansion of the neighboring Marquis Changxing, his sister buying him a large bundle of candied hawthorns and holding his naive self while pointing at the marquis's residence, declaring, "One day, I'll marry a distinguished husband with a grander estate and more lanterns than theirs, making everyone in the Capital fawn over you so we'll never suffer neglect again." His voice grew louder, his posture straighter. "What's wrong with her wanting to marry into the Marquis of Jining's household? People strive for higher grounds, just as water flows downward. Since we've already performed the wedding rites and shared the nuptial chamber, we're husband and wife now. You... you mustn't scold her anymore..." He seemed determined to acknowledge this marriage, yet under Wei Tingyu's blazing glare, his courage wavered, and his voice gradually softened.

Zhang Yuanming, familiar with his brother-in-law's temperament, remained composed, but Dou Wenchang and Ji Yong wore expressions of disbelief. Ji Yong inwardly cursed, thinking: Dou Ming really has some damn luck—managing to win over Wei Tingyu like this. Thank goodness Dou Zhao didn’t marry Wei Tingyu; dealing with his muddled brain daily would be unbearable!

The thought flickered through his mind, followed by a hint of smugness.

When Dou Ming learns I helped cancel her engagement, she’ll surely be delighted! And when my great-grandfather goes to propose marriage on my behalf, what expression will she wear?

Shock? Indignation? Or would she summon him angrily, demanding whether he had interfered in the sisters' marital swap?

Pondering this, he felt a strange twinge.

Why had it never occurred to him that Dou Zhao might be shy about marriage matters?

Perhaps that was precisely what he admired about her—her straightforwardness, clear about what she wanted and didn’t, unlike his cousins, who always spoke in half-truths. Even Ji Lingze, renowned among them for her wit and grace, seemed afflicted by the same flaw.

Watching Dou Ming crumpled on the floor, clutching Wei Tingyu’s hem while sobbing, he felt an unprecedented lightness in his heart.

※※※※※

Song Yichun, however, was in a foul mood.

Yesterday, at the wedding of Duke of Dongping Zhou Shaochuan’s son, Count Huichang Shen Dagui had congratulated him with a grin: "Your Yantang is truly remarkable—summoned daily by the Emperor at the summer palace. I heard during the Grand Secretaries’ deliberations, he sat in Lizheng Hall copying The Account of Yuzhou’s Terrain for His Majesty. Such scholarly progress is truly commendable!" He added enviously, "Such an honor belongs only to your household!"

What did the Duke of England's Mansion’s affairs matter to him?

Song Yichun simmered with frustration.

At this rate, in a few years, he might lose all means to suppress Song Mo.

He ordered a page, "Invite Mr. Tao for a discussion."

The page hurried off.

Seated by the window on the heated brick bed, he gazed absently at the osmanthus tree outside, its dark green leaves dotted with tiny, star-like yellow blossoms.

Since his fallout with Song Mo, Song Yichun had renovated the Cassia Fragrance Courtyard in the eastern wing of the mansion, moving there to stand opposite the Hall of Cultivating Will, forming a balance of power.

Tao Qizhong, however, disapproved.Song Yichun was the rightful Duke of Yingguo and master of The Duke of England's Mansion. Giving up the upper courtyard in this manner gave the impression of yielding to Song Mo. Despite several attempts to persuade him, Song Yichun remained resolute in staying at Cassia Fragrance Courtyard. Though inwardly shaking his head, Tao Qizhong knew better than to press the matter further.

The courtyard earned its name from the abundance of osmanthus trees planted within its grounds.

As the Mid-Autumn Festival approached, the osmanthus blossoms in Cassia Fragrance Courtyard were in full bloom. Their rich fragrance could be detected from afar, but upon drawing nearer, the scent grew overpowering, almost stifling.

When Tao Qizhong entered the study, he found Song Yichun reviewing Song Han's schoolwork.

Song Yichun had always been fond of scholarly pursuits. In his youth, he had participated in the imperial examinations and even attained the rank of Successful Candidate in the Imperial Examination, displaying considerable skill in the Eight-legged Essay. However, after being reprimanded by the Old Duke of England for competing with scholars for fame—lest it invite trouble—he abandoned further attempts at the exams. Instead, he hired renowned scholars to tutor him at home, developing his own unique insights into learning. Guiding Song Han’s studies was well within his capabilities.

Upon seeing Tao Qizhong, he set aside his younger son’s work and sighed, "After all... he lacks talent, far inferior to Song Mo!"

If that were the case, why had he allowed relations with his eldest son to deteriorate to this point?

Tao Qizhong mused silently but maintained the respectful demeanor befitting an adviser, offering a courteous bow.

Fortunately, Song Yichun did not seem to expect his opinion. As if catching himself in an indiscretion, he swiftly changed the subject. "Regarding the matter in Yan’an Prefecture, we must act more proactively—tomorrow, you should visit the Marquis of Yan’an’s residence to sound out the Wang family’s intentions," he said, then sighed.

This was the disadvantage of lacking someone to manage the household.

Women could speak more freely among themselves, and even missteps could be smoothed over.

Sending an adviser, however, was stiff and inflexible. Once a proposal was rejected, it became difficult to revisit the matter. His own repeated setbacks in marriage negotiations were partly due to this very issue.