Blossom

Is it hard?

Hard.

But what is such hardship compared to the pain of being estranged from one's own flesh and blood?

Dou Zhao thought of the myriad events from her past life, her eyes flickering with a trace of bewilderment, but more so, with sorrow.

This parting might mean she and Song Mo would never have the chance to meet again.

Some things were better said clearly.

Dou Zhao didn’t want Song Mo to be left with regrets or pain.

Just as she herself had experienced in her past life—separated from her mother by death, unable to understand the events of those years—she would often inadvertently speculate about her mother’s death, wondering if it had anything to do with her. If Song Mo were to leave like this, in the years to come, he would surely dwell on this matter, just as she had, obsessing over cause and effect.

She asked Song Mo, "You’ve been practicing martial arts since childhood. Did you find it hard?"

Song Mo was taken aback but answered sincerely after a moment’s thought, "I didn’t find it hard."

"But watching you train through the coldest winters and hottest summers, we thought it must be hard," Dou Zhao pressed. "Why didn’t you find it hard?"

Song Mo pondered and replied, "Perhaps because I believe 'no pain, no gain,' so it didn’t feel hard?"

"You started managing the Hall of Cultivating Will at a young age. Did you find that hard?"

Song Mo smiled. "As the heir of the Duke of England's Mansion, managing the Hall of Cultivating Will is my duty. How could I find it hard?"

Dou Zhao continued, "Then after falling out with your father, you consistently gained the upper hand. That must have felt satisfying, didn’t it?"

Song Mo froze.

Before he could answer, Dou Zhao added, "I heard from Mr. Chen that since the Duke confined the second young master to the main chamber for studies, you’ve rarely seen him. Does that pain you?"

Song Mo’s eyes widened, but he seemed to grasp her meaning, lost in thought.

"So, managing the household doesn’t feel hard to me," Dou Zhao said, smiling at him. "When water comes, earth dams it. When soldiers come, generals block them. It’s all just a cycle of the same things. Even if mistakes happen, we find ways to fix them. Playing the balancing game with the people of the East Mansion isn’t hard. They are my blood relatives, and I am theirs. If they respect me by a foot, I’ll respect them by an inch. Even if they betray me, it’s just a moment of heartache—a lesson in misjudging people." She turned her head slightly, gazing at the dappled shadows on the ground, and whispered, "When I was little, I often felt I had no parents or siblings, lonely and adrift. As I grew older, I longed for companionship, for someone who would stand by me even if the whole world abandoned me. So even though I knew he had his flaws, I was willing to stay with him." Here, she gave Song Mo a faint smile. "Besides, I’m not flawless either. If I can tolerate others, perhaps others tolerate me too? But having someone by my side is better than being alone, isn’t it?"

She must be talking about Wei Tingyu.

Under the moonlight, her smile seemed so pale and fragile, like hands tightly gripping Song Mo’s heart, leaving him breathless."But the bond of flesh and blood is different," Dou Zhao murmured. "Connected by blood, sharing the same breath... it's impossible to sever." The child's face had blurred in her memory, yet the feelings of sorrow and joy it brought remained etched in her heart. "When they hurt, you hurt; when they rejoice, you rejoice. You feel it as if it were your own. No matter where you go, no matter where you are, as long as you remember, you can never let go."

Song Mo was deeply shocked.

Dou Zhao—she was afraid!

She was actually afraid of marriage!

What could have made her think this way?

Was it the death of her birth mother?

Or Dou Zhao's substitute marriage?

Or perhaps, the role the Ji family played in it?

He remembered that Dou Zhao and Ji Yong had grown up together!

This side of Dou Zhao pained him greatly.

He thought of Chen Qushui, Duan Gongyi, and Su Xin by her side... Was this why she was surrounded by so many capable people?

He even recalled his own father's heartlessness toward him.

Song Mo felt as though he had returned to that icy night, to that deceptively warm and lulling evening where closing one's eyes meant stepping into the underworld!

Unable to restrain himself, he grasped Dou Zhao's hand and said, "Since you knew that if you were seriously ill, my father would surely break off the engagement for the sake of appearances, why didn’t you use this strategy before meeting me?"

Song Mo's stern expression took Dou Zhao aback.

"Is it because you thought that if you left it to me, I would surely give you an answer?" Song Mo pressed solemnly.

Dou Zhao nodded involuntarily.

That was indeed what she had thought.

No one understood Song Mo's capabilities better than she did.

If Song Mo could deceive Song Yichun into seeking her hand in marriage within just a few days, he certainly had the means to help her withdraw from the betrothal unscathed.

Her answer brought a flicker of something unreadable to Song Mo's eyes.

"Then, can you trust me once more, just as you did before?" He gazed intently at Dou Zhao. "Why not marry me! Even if I’m not the best, I can still protect you!"

Dou Zhao was stunned.

After everything she had said, Song Mo still wanted to marry her?

She wasn’t vain enough to think he had taken a liking to her.

Dou Zhao still remembered the kind of women who had surrounded Song Mo in her past life!

Back then, he was rebellious, arrogant, and unrestrained by elders. None of those women had managed to win his favor enough to marry them. Not to mention she was a year older than him—her temperament, tempered by life’s trials, had grown somewhat somber. Apart from managing accounts and household affairs, she only knew how to tend to crops and flowers. She was neither witty nor gentle and demure—far from it!

She couldn’t help blurting out, "Why?"

Why?

Song Mo fell silent for a moment.

Yes.

Why?

Though Dou Zhao’s experiences were heartbreaking, she was no fragile damsel. On the contrary, they had made her stronger, more decisive, more resolute. What was there for him to worry about?

The night breeze of late autumn rustled the leaves, carrying a bone-chilling cold. But with Dou Zhao beside him, sharing such personal words, that cold became insignificant.“You once said having someone by your side is better than being alone,” he said with a smile. “Rather than letting my father dictate my marriage, I’d rather marry you. At least we can talk to each other and keep each other company.”

“Ah!” Dou Zhao’s eyes widened as she thought of the estrangement between Song Mo and his father.

For a moment, she seemed to see Song Mo again—surrounded by people yet wearing a lonely expression, his figure steeped in solitude.

In truth, their situations were strikingly similar.

A faint sadness welled up in Dou Zhao’s heart.

Under the eaves, the glow of red lanterns cast a warm hue on the ground, while the chirping of unknown insects filled the courtyard.

Song Mo lowered his voice. “Dou Zhao, think carefully about what I’ve said. Rather than struggling in the Dou family, why not come to the Hall of Cultivating Will? At least Chen Qushui and Duan Gongyi can openly stay by your side.”

Dou Zhao remained silent.

Song Mo took his leave. “I’ll await your reply.”

Dou Zhao lay awake all night.

Perhaps it was because the impression Song Mo had left on her in her past life was too profound.

No one else possessed abilities that made her feel as secure as Song Mo did, and no other household intimidated her as much as the Duke of England’s Mansion.

Yet Song Mo’s words made sense.

Rather than struggling endlessly in the Dou family with no clear path forward, it might be better to marry into the Duke of England’s Mansion.

She wouldn’t have to hide and suppress herself as she did now.

Should she go or not?

Song Mo had said he would wait for her response. Did he mean waiting for her to spread the rumor of her “illness” so he could act accordingly and dissolve their engagement? Or was he waiting for her answer before proceeding with the annulment?

Dou Zhao felt as though she stood at a crossroads.

Marrying into the Duke of England’s Mansion meant visible hardships.

Staying in the Dou family meant foreseeable stagnation.

Was there truly no third path for her?

For the first time since her rebirth, Dou Zhao found herself wavering, unable to decide.

She wished time would freeze at this moment, allowing her to make up her mind before the sun rose and set again.

Meanwhile, Song Mo stood by the moon-shaped window in his study and let out a long sigh.

Three days had passed, and the Dou family had shown no reaction.

There was no news of Dou Zhao’s supposed illness, nor did they make things difficult for the Song family regarding the marriage arrangements.

The wedding preparations proceeded smoothly—painting the house, decorating the bridal chamber, sending out invitations, setting up the accountant’s office...

When Dou Ming received the invitation, she rushed to Jing'an Temple Alley in a fluster.

“Is it true that my sister is engaged to the Young Lord of the Duke of England’s Mansion, Song Yantang?” she asked Dou Shiying, disbelief written all over her face.

“Of course it’s true,” Dou Shiying replied. Having resolved his eldest daughter’s marriage, he was not only in high spirits but also seemed to have regained a youthful vigor, as though he had shed ten years. Remembering his younger daughter’s past actions toward Dou Zhao, he admonished her, “When you give your sister her dowry, make sure it’s a generous gift. And don’t forget to return with the Marquis of Jining for the wedding banquet!”

Dou Ming was displeased, but knowing her father was still upset with her, she dared not show it. Instead, she clung to his arm and cooed, “Don’t keep calling him ‘Marquis of Jining’—he’s your son-in-law! His courtesy name is Peijin.”

Unlike usual, Dou Shiying didn’t indulge her playful antics. He nodded absently and said sternly, “You’re a married woman now. You should carry yourself with dignity. How can you still cling to my sleeve and act like a child?”Dou Ming pouted playfully and said with a mischievous smile, "I just missed Father, that's all!"

Faced with such a daughter, Dou Shiying shook his head and sighed, his expression softening slightly.

Dou Ming then asked him, "How did the Duke of Yingguo's Mansion take a liking to Elder Sister? I heard the Young Lord is a year younger than her and has a bloodthirsty nature—even his own guards aren't spared..."

"Stop this nonsense!" Dou Shiying scolded angrily. "She's your own sister. How can you be like those gossipy women, spreading rumors at the slightest whisper?" He added, "I personally went to ask the Duke of Yingguo about this matter, and he also denied it. You're Shou Gu's younger sister—don't let me hear such talk again."

Dou Ming remained unconvinced and was about to say more when Gaosheng entered and announced, "Master, Lord Cai and Lord Xu from the Imperial Academy have arrived."

Dou Shiying's expression eased slightly. After reprimanding Dou Ming with a few words like "Don't ever do this again," he straightened his robes and headed to the Reception Hall.

Unable to contain her frustration, Dou Ming stamped her foot and turned to go to the side room where Wang Yingxue was confined.