On the twelfth day of the eighth month, the Emperor moved from the summer retreat in the West Garden back to the Forbidden City.
The procession returning to the palace was led by the Standard Bearer Guard clearing the way, with the Golden Guard bringing up the rear. Though the distance was merely a few dozen miles, the grand procession stretched so long that while the front had already entered the palace gates, the rear had yet to depart the summer retreat. This spectacle excited the distant onlookers, who pointed and chattered endlessly.
Song Mo, having completed his duties, was about to leave the palace when he was summoned to the Palace of Compassionate Tranquility by Wang Ge, the adopted son of Wang Yuan.
Ning Fei, the birth mother of Jingfu Princess, was also present.
When Song Mo entered, she cast him a sidelong glance and whispered a few words with a smile to the Empress Dowager, who sat upright on the daybed. The Empress Dowager nodded cheerfully and warmly beckoned Song Mo over, inquiring about his family affairs.
Ning Fei usually appeared mild-mannered and indecisive, yet at this critical moment, she had acted so decisively, seeking the Empress Dowager's favor immediately upon returning to the palace.
It seemed he had underestimated these palace consorts after all!
Song Mo inwardly steeled himself.
He responded respectfully to the Empress Dowager's questions.
Then the Empress and Consort Shu arrived together.
Upon seeing Song Mo, the Empress nodded at him with a smile, while Consort Shu looked surprised, her gaze toward Ning Fei flashing with a hint of mockery.
Song Mo had no desire to remain there as an object of their schemes, nor did he wish to entangle himself further with these individuals.
With a courteous smile, he exchanged a few pleasantries before taking his leave.
The Empress watched him depart with a smile.
Once outside the Palace of Compassionate Tranquility, Song Mo chuckled to himself and returned to the Yingguo Manor.
However, Yan Chaoqing informed him, "The Duke left early this morning to submit a memorial and has now gone to the palace to see the Emperor."
Song Mo smiled. "He must be going to inform the Emperor about my engagement with the Dou family." Otherwise, if the imperial decree were issued after he had already betrothed Dou Zhao, it would become a farce—should the Song family break off the engagement with the Dou family, the imperial family would risk being accused of forcing a subject to marry against his will; if they did not, where would the imperial dignity lie?
The Emperor had just settled in after returning to the palace when he heard of Song Yichun's request for an audience. Considering that they might soon become relatives, he set aside the Crown Prince's memorial and received Song Yichun first.
Yet, to his astonishment, Song Yichun had rushed to see him merely to request extended leave for Song Mo.
"So, you've already exchanged the marriage certificate with the Dou family and set the wedding date for the twenty-fourth of this month?" The Emperor reclined on the heated brick bed, his eyes—seemingly dulled by indulgence—flashing with sharpness. His tone was light: "That would make you Dou Yuanji's in-law, wouldn't it? This Dou Yuanji didn't breathe a word of it in my presence!"
Song Yichun hastily replied, "How could I dare trouble Your Majesty with my trivial family matters?"
The Emperor said nothing more and waved him off.
Song Yichun respectfully withdrew.
The Emperor's expression darkened.
Wang Ge entered with a beaming face. "Your Majesty, the Empress Dowager requests your presence for a discussion." He added, "The Empress, Ning Fei, and Consort Shu are all there."
Wang Yuan, who was attending to the Emperor, shot Wang Ge a fierce glare.
Wang Ge froze in confusion.
The Emperor angrily flung the memorial in his hand onto the desk.
Meanwhile, Song Yichun wiped his sweat and headed home.
Upon hearing that Song Mo had returned, he ordered the pages to summon him.If Song Mo knew what kind of marriage arrangement had been made for him, his expression would surely be quite lively.
Song Yichun couldn't help but smile.
However, the page returned and said, "The Young Lord has gone out."
It was like being pleasantly tipsy from wine, only to have a bucket of cold water poured over one's head.
Song Yichun's expression turned severe as he shouted, "Where has the Young Lord gone?"
The page trembled, replying fearfully, "I don't know! The people from Zhezhi Hall only said the Young Lord went to meet a friend, but who it was, I didn't dare ask..." He mumbled, shrinking back as if bracing for a beating.
Song Yichun's chest heaved with anger, but after a moment's thought, he ultimately decided not to take it out on the page.
Meanwhile, Song Mo had slipped into the shadows of a flowering tree. He waited until two old women on night patrol passed by, chatting and laughing softly, before picking up a pebble from under the tree and tossing it with a "thunk" against Dou Zhao's window.
The lamp in Dou Zhao's inner chamber was still lit, but there was no response for quite some time.
Song Mo wasn't in a hurry. He tossed another pebble every few breaths.
Dou Zhao was leaning against the headboard reading, but Su Xin, who was doing needlework nearby, sensed something and quietly cracked open the window a sliver, spotting Song Mo standing in the shadows of the tree.
"Young Miss, the Young Lord is here," she whispered.
Dou Zhao was startled.
She had thought Song Mo would come the next morning.
"Invite him inside to talk," Dou Zhao said, changing her clothes before heading to the unlit parlor.
Su Xin opened the door for Song Mo.
Song Mo handed Su Xin a small box of pastries, saying, "Pea cakes from the palace."
Su Xin couldn't help but glance at Dou Zhao before curtsying in thanks, serving tea, and withdrawing.
Song Mo asked Dou Zhao, "What urgent matter did you need to discuss?"
For a long moment, Dou Zhao didn't know what to say.
Song Mo didn't press her, sitting quietly and waiting for her to speak.
The bright moonlight streamed through the window lattice, sparse and snow-like.
"I'm sorry," Dou Zhao said guiltily. "Back when you asked if I would marry you, I knew your father would never agree to let you choose your own wife. That's why I said, if fate allows, we would naturally become husband and wife..."
Under the moonlight, the clever Song Mo's face instantly turned deathly pale.
He was silent for a long while.
Dou Zhao, too, was at a loss for words.
In the silence, she heard Song Mo take a deep breath and softly say, "I understand," before adding, "Don't worry. I'll handle this matter properly."
His voice was calm, like clouds drifting around a crescent moon—fleeting yet carrying an inexplicable firmness. Without raising his voice or showing much expression, he made one believe that what he promised, he would deliver, instilling a sense of reassurance.
"I'm sorry!" Dou Zhao apologized again, but for some reason, her heart ached faintly, and tears welled up in her eyes.
She quickly closed her eyes to stop them from falling.
"It's fine," Song Mo said, not looking at her but gazing at the moon outside the window. "I didn't think it through back then..."
Or perhaps, he had never even considered it.
Song Mo couldn't help but smirk self-deprecatingly.
If she broke off the engagement with him, the scandal would spread, and it would likely be very difficult for her to find another match in the future.
She was so clever—how could she not have thought of that?
Perhaps she had other plans in mind?In his mind, the shadow of Ji Yong suddenly surfaced.
He had never understood why the Dou family would allow the sisters to switch marriages before. Now, it seemed he had found the answer.
But quickly, he suppressed this thought deep in his heart.
Or perhaps, his pride wouldn’t allow him to dwell on it further.
It would only make him look like a ridiculous clown.
Song Mo’s heart was filled with bitterness.
He stood up. “Then I’ll take my leave first!”
Yet his voice sounded so gentle, so hypocritical.
Song Mo curled his lips in self-mockery.
Dou Zhao knew she had hurt Song Mo.
Some things were unavoidable unless she forced herself to compromise.
But sometimes, insincere words could wound deeper than the truth.
Especially for a proud young man like Song Mo.
“I’m sorry! I just don’t want to marry.” Dou Zhao stood up, her voice dry and devoid of its usual pleasant tone or calm composure. “Let me walk you out.”
Is that so?
Song Mo pressed his lips together. “Better not, lest someone sees and spreads rumors.”
Dou Zhao stood under the eaves, watching Song Mo’s figure grow distant, thinking of those two boxes of pastries, her heart heavy with sorrow.
How would he go about dissolving their betrothal?
By using the opportunity to marry a princess?
What would others say about him then?
After he had already borne the reputation of being a ruthless killer?
“Song Yantang!” Dou Zhao called softly. “I’ll fall ill tomorrow morning. You… don’t do anything…”
What was this?
A consolation prize?
Song Mo turned back with a smile. “That plan of yours might not work—my father is desperate to find me a flawed wife now!”
Surely, he wasn’t that pitiful!
Dou Zhao couldn’t bring herself to laugh.
She said solemnly, “Since your father was willing to offer twenty thousand taels as a betrothal gift, he likely doesn’t want an open conflict with you. If word spreads that I have a serious illness, he won’t be able to ignore it.” Here, she raised an eyebrow. “Even if he tries to turn a blind eye, I’ll make sure he can’t!”
But then, what would the elders of the Ji family say?
Dou Zhao’s unwavering confidence left Song Mo momentarily silent.
He recalled their first meeting at the farmstead, her life-saving aid from afar… His worries were indeed unnecessary.
She had always been self-assured!
Song Mo felt he should be relieved, yet strangely, a faint sense of loss lingered in his heart.
He nodded with a smile and turned to leave again.
But halfway across the courtyard, he couldn’t help glancing back at Dou Zhao.
The moonlight spilling over the eaves divided her face into two halves—her smooth, fair chin glowing like jade, while her eyes, hidden in shadow, were deep as a spring, silently watching him in the darkness. It was as though this parting would stretch into years, and they might never meet again!
Song Mo’s heart sank inexplicably, recalling her earlier words.
“I just don’t want to marry!”
Was that truly the case?
Unable to resist, Song Mo strode back toward Dou Zhao.
He wasn’t one to run from the truth.
If this was a wound, he’d rather let it cut deeper than allow the confusion to fester into a thorn in his heart.
“Dou Zhao,” Song Mo stopped before her, “is it that you don’t want to marry me, or is it simply that you don’t wish to marry at all?”
She was the first person to have guessed his intentions so clearly!Dou Zhao said very sincerely, "I don't want to get married." She added, "No matter who it is!"
Song Mo's eyes suddenly brightened, dazzling Dou Zhao until her vision blurred.
"Why is that?" he asked. "Why don't you want to get married? Is it just because married life would be too hard? But haven't you been managing the Household Affairs of Western Dou all these years—wasn't that hard? Won't it be tough for you to survive among your nephews in the future? Why exactly don't you want to marry? The Fourth Miss Dou I know isn't someone who shies away from difficulties!"
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