Dou Zhao and Song Mo were paying their respects to Song Yichun, who had much to say but could only keep it to himself. After hurriedly giving them a few instructions, he sent them on their way.
The wind drove the torrential rain in waves, washing over the covered corridors like a flood. Anyone walking there would immediately have their shoes, socks, and hems soaked through.
Everyone wore rain capes and wooden clogs.
Dou Zhao stood a little taller than usual.
Su Xin struggled to hold the umbrella for her.
"Let me do it myself!" Dou Zhao smiled, reaching out to take the umbrella from Su Xin.
But a pair of jade-like hands reached out first, taking the umbrella before she could.
Dou Zhao looked up in surprise to see Song Mo's calm face.
"I'll do it," he said impassively, holding the umbrella and guiding Dou Zhao forward with a hand on her shoulder.
Chen He, who usually held the umbrella for Song Mo, stood frozen for a moment before catching up.
Dou Zhao reached just below Song Mo's ear.
With a slight lean, she could rest her head on his shoulder.
In both lifetimes, Dou Zhao had always been the one holding the umbrella for others. When had anyone ever held it for her?
She walked forward in a daze, only snapping out of it when she found herself standing before the carriage at the gate.
The coachman had already placed the footstool.
After a brief hesitation, Song Mo took Dou Zhao's hand and said, "Hurry and get in, be careful not to wet your clothes." He shifted the umbrella to cover the footstool, even preparing to assist her into the carriage himself.
Large raindrops fell on Song Mo's face.
Dou Zhao quickly bent down and stepped into the carriage.
Chen He rushed over, holding a tung oil umbrella high to shield Song Mo from the wind and rain.
Song Mo handed the umbrella to Wuyi beside him and boarded the carriage.
Su Xin and the others exchanged surprised glances before lowering their heads and filing into the carriage behind.
Dou Jichang, who witnessed this scene, paused mid-step.
He was taken aback.
Everyone in the capital knew that the Young Lord of the Duke of Yingguo's Mansion came from an illustrious family and had an aloof, unapproachable demeanor. Who would have thought he would lower himself to take care of Fourth Sister... It seemed even the most reserved men had a tender side when it came to their wives.
He chuckled and hopped into the Dou family's carriage.
The rain pattered loudly on the carriage roof.
Dou Zhao looked down at her dry clothes, deeply moved, and sincerely thanked Song Mo, handing him a handkerchief to wipe the rain from his face.
Song Mo accepted it with a smile.
It was a simple white silk handkerchief,
reminding him of Dou Zhao's flower garden.
He wiped his face.
The handkerchief carried a faint fragrance—like orchids, or perhaps jasmine. Upon closer inspection, it might have been the scent of Yu Zan flowers, exceptionally refined.
He tucked the handkerchief into his sleeve and lifted the carriage curtain, gazing out through the glass-paned window. "Would you like to return to Zhen Ding for a visit?"
The road was nearly empty, with the storm whipping fallen leaves into a disheveled mess.
Dou Zhao's eyes brightened. "Is that possible?"
"Anything is possible if you make time for it," he replied, turning to her. His eyes shone like stars in the dim carriage light.
"You're right!" Dou Zhao laughed, then grew thoughtful.
It would be wonderful if Song Mo could accompany her back to Zhen Ding.
Grandmother would feel more at ease after meeting him.
But Song Mo was on duty with the Golden Guard and might not have the time. This matter required careful consideration.
"Perhaps I should discuss it with Master Yan first?" she suggested. "We'll also need to inform the Duke properly."Song Mo nodded, feeling a touch of melancholy.
If his mother were still alive, with her shielding Dou Zhao, how could returning to Zhen Ding be so difficult for her!
He clenched his fists involuntarily.
Noticing his low spirits, Dou Zhao leaned toward the carriage window with a smile.
“Each autumn rain makes the weather colder,” she remarked, then asked, “Where are we now?”
In her past life, though she had lived in the Capital for over a decade, she was only familiar with the area around Fugui Lane.
“We’re on Andingmen Street,” Song Mo replied pensively before instructing the coachman, “Take Jiangmi Lane to Jing'an Temple Alley.”
The coachman hesitated for a long moment before loudly acknowledging the order and turning into a nearby alley.
Curious, Dou Zhao asked, “Why take Jiangmi Lane? Is it closer to Jing'an Temple Alley?”
This way, she would know the route for her next visit to her maiden home.
“It’s about half an hour longer than going along Huangqiang North Street,” Song Mo explained with a smile. “But the Six Ministries and the Five Armies Commandery are along the way. You can take a look.”
Dou Zhao felt slightly embarrassed—Song Mo was treating her like some sheltered noblewoman who had never ventured far.
Still, his thoughtfulness in taking her on this detour lifted her mood.
Meanwhile, Dou Jichang, following behind their carriage, was utterly baffled.
Why had Song Mo suddenly changed direction southward? This route was taking them farther away!
Soon, the carriage slowed to a stop, pausing briefly in front of the Imperial Academy, the Imperial Garden Administration, and the Imperial Hospital before moving on.
Unable to contain his curiosity, Dou Jichang asked one of the accompanying guards, “What are they doing?”
The guard didn’t know either and hurried over to inquire. Upon returning, he reported, “The Young Lord is pointing out the locations of the Six Ministries to the Fourth Paternal Aunt.”
Dou Jichang was stunned. “What does the Sixth Sister-in-law have to do with the Six Ministries?”
The guard shook his head, equally puzzled.
But Dou Jichang’s page ventured a guess: “The Paternal Aunt has just arrived in the Capital and rarely goes out. When she does, she usually visits temples or shops for damasks and brocades, jewelry, and such on South Street or Drum Tower Street. Perhaps the Young Lord wants to broaden her horizons!”
Dou Jichang suddenly understood and couldn’t help chuckling. “Only he would think of such a thing.” Taking his wife to see the Six Ministries—as if she were a son being encouraged to take the imperial exams!
Fortunately, the heavy rain and wind had left the streets nearly empty, and since this was a day for returning to her maiden home, there was no strict time constraint. Dou Jichang decided not to disturb them, reclining in his carriage and listening to the rain as they made their slow, stop-and-go journey, taking an extra half hour to reach Jing'an Temple Alley.
The Dou family relatives had already gathered.
Upon hearing of Dou Zhao’s arrival, Dou Shiying, eager to see how his daughter was faring, ignored Dou Shishu’s attempts to stop him and went to the gate to greet them.
Song Mo stepped out of the carriage, took the large umbrella from Chen He, and held it against the wind as he helped Dou Zhao down—only to have his own robes drenched in the process.
Dou Shiying, rushing over, beamed at the sight. Without waiting for Song Mo to steady himself, he clasped his arm and urged, “Come inside quickly! The rain is too heavy!” Then he called loudly to Gaosheng, “Hurry and fetch dry clothes for the Fourth Son-in-Law!” His enthusiasm was overwhelming—even Song Yichun, before his relationship with Song Mo had soured, had never been so openly affectionate.
For a moment, Song Mo was too stunned to react, but he quickly composed himself and bowed gratefully. “Thank you, Father-in-law.”Dou Shiying gazed at the jade-like Song Mo before him. Recalling how he had just supported Dou Zhao, the more he looked, the more satisfied and pleased he became. Holding Song Mo’s hand as they walked toward the reception hall, he chuckled warmly, "A son-in-law is half a son—there’s no need to stand on ceremony with me. As long as you and my daughter are happy together, that’s all the joy I need."
Song Mo, remembering the tears in Dou Shiying’s eyes during Dou Zhao’s wedding, felt his heart soften.
He respectfully replied, "Yes," and followed Dou Shiying through the main gate.
Gaosheng hurried over with a stack of clothes in his arms.
"Master, these are the new robes you had made a few days ago. You haven’t had the chance to wear them yet," he panted. "Which one would you like?"
Dou Shiying selected a purple-red brocade robe with a lotus pattern and said to Song Mo, "Go change first. The autumn rain is harsh—don’t risk catching a chill."
At the sight of the flamboyant and intricate embroidery, both Song Mo and Dou Zhao broke into a sweat—the former because he found the robe ostentatious yet dared not refuse out of respect for Dou Shiying, and the latter because she hadn’t expected her father to own such a bold garment.
Song Mo went to change, accompanied by Gaoxing (Happy), while Dou Zhao couldn’t help remarking, "Is lotus-patterned fabric still in fashion these days?"
"Since when was lotus-patterned fabric ever a trend?" Dou Shiying retorted.
Dou Zhao fell silent.
She could only mutter inwardly: But for someone your age, this is far too flashy.
No sooner had the thought crossed her mind than she saw Song Mo returning with Gaosheng.
The purple-red brocade, embroidered with gold and silver threads in intricate floral motifs, shimmered like flowing clouds. Against Song Mo’s flawless, pale skin, it created a striking contrast—like a touch of purity amidst a riot of colors, exuding an air of refined elegance and nobility.
Dou Shiying’s eyes lit up. "This robe suits you quite well," he declared, already striding ahead before Song Mo could respond. "Let’s go to the reception hall for tea—our relatives have been waiting for you!"
Song Mo adjusted his sleeves uncomfortably, but by the time he took his first step, his demeanor had settled into calm composure as he followed Dou Shiying to the reception hall.
Dou Shishu and Dou Shiheng sat in grand preceptor’s chairs in the central hall, conversing with Wei Tingyu, while Dou Wenchang and the others stood nearby, listening respectfully. Ji Shi, Fifth Madam, and the other female relatives gathered around a round table in the western hall, while Dou Wenchang’s two sons, Jichang’s two sons, and Dou Bochang’s daughter played noisily under the care of a crowd of maids and old women, their laughter filling the air.
When Dou Shiying entered with Song Mo and Dou Zhao, Dou Shishu and the others paused their conversation, and the old women quickly ushered the children aside.
The reception hall fell silent.
All eyes turned to Song Mo.
Unfazed, Song Mo smiled calmly and followed Dou Shiying in paying respects to Dou Shishu and Dou Shiheng.
Nearby, Wei Tingyu gazed at Dou Zhao, whose attire was dignified yet understated, his eyes burning with intensity.
But Dou Zhao had no intention of engaging with him. With downcast eyes, she quietly trailed behind Song Mo as they greeted Dou Shishu and Dou Shiheng.
Wei Tingyu scratched his head awkwardly.
At some point, Dou Ming approached.
Tugging at his sleeve, she whispered playfully, "What is the marquis looking at?" Her gaze flickered past Dou Zhao, who paid them no mind, and lingered on Song Mo.
So this is the heir of the Duke of Yingguo’s mansion?
He’s actually… breathtakingly handsome! Dou Zhao was actually a year older than him!
Would he... even look favorably upon Dou Zhao?
Dou Ming couldn't hide her surprise and astonishment as she turned to look at Dou Zhao.
Standing quietly behind Song Mo, Dou Zhao displayed a composure and restraint that belied her age.
Dou Ming's eyes flickered when she saw Song Mo cup his hands toward her husband with a smile, addressing him as "Peijin."
No honorifics were used!
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