Blossom

This was a founding principle established by Emperor Taizong.

A stone tablet inscribed with Emperor Taizong’s own calligraphy is said to stand outside the gates of the Palace of Earthly Tranquility.

Yet the Empress could mobilize the Emperor’s Imperial Guards!

Was it because of this that Liao Wang developed his ambitions? Or did the Empress begin to act only after Liao Wang harbored such ambitions?

One regrets not having studied enough when knowledge is needed.

At this moment, Dou Zhao regretted how little she had cared about these matters in her past life.

By the time Song Mo finished washing up and came out, she had already poured him a cup of tea and placed it on the kang table.

Song Mo obligingly took a seat on the kang opposite Dou Zhao.

After dismissing the maids, Dou Zhao whispered to him, “How can the Empress mobilize Imperial Army troops like you?”

Song Mo was surprised by her question but patiently explained, “In the spring of the ninth year of Chengping, the Emperor suddenly collapsed unconscious while reviewing memorials. Though the Imperial Hospital’s careful treatment restored his health, he was left with chronic headaches. At that time, Empress Shen had already passed away four or five years prior, and Empress Wan had just taken charge of the inner palace. She learned massage techniques from the Imperial Physicians and began massaging the Emperor daily, gradually alleviating his headaches. In the eleventh year of Chengping, when reports of the Yellow River’s breach reached the palace, the Empress was massaging the Emperor. Seeing him troubled over the selection of a disaster relief censor, she recommended Mu Chuan, who was then merely a compiler at the Imperial Academy. As luck would have it, the Emperor’s preferred candidate, Ye Shipei, had fallen ill with dysentery, leaving no suitable alternative. So the Emperor summoned Mu Chuan for an audience and learned that his father had once served as the prefect of Kaifeng. Having grown up accompanying his father in office, Mu Chuan was well-versed in river engineering. The Emperor appointed him as the disaster relief censor.

“He performed his duties exceptionally well, not only preventing unrest among the displaced but also devising a method to regulate the Yellow River. Ye Shipei greatly admired his approach and implemented it, ensuring the river remained unbreached in subsequent years. Mu Chuan rose swiftly through the ranks, eventually becoming Minister of Works and Grand Secretary of the Zhongji Hall.

“Impressed by the Empress’s discernment, the Emperor occasionally discussed court affairs with her, and she consistently offered insightful advice. Over time, his trust in her deepened.”

Here, Song Mo paused briefly, a rare hesitation flickering in his eyes before he continued gently, “Once, when the Emperor suddenly fell ill, the Empress, fearing his condition would be seen as undignified, ordered the palace maids to close the gates of the Palace of Earthly Tranquility. In his delirium, the Emperor accidentally pushed her to the ground, causing her forehead to strike an incense burner. Blood streamed down her face… Yet she clung to the Emperor, refusing to let go until he calmed down and the Imperial Physicians arrived. Only then did she hastily clean her wound with saltwater… The Emperor, filled with remorse, later granted her the authority to mobilize the Golden Guard, the Standard Bearer Guard, and the Divine Pivot Camp…”

In her past life, Dou Zhao had never heard that Mu Chuan was the Empress’s man.

Horrified, she exclaimed, “The Emperor’s illness is that severe?”

It was now the sixteenth year of Chengping—meaning the Emperor had been ill for seven years!

She began to understand why Liao Wang’s palace coup had succeeded.

Song Mo nodded, his voice lowering further. “In earlier years, the episodes occurred only once every two or three years.” His tone was heavy with concern for the Emperor’s worsening condition.Dou Zhao could only console him: "If the Emperor falls seriously ill, the matter of succession will arise. You should be cautious. The Duke of Yingguo's Mansion is illustrious in reputation—it's best not to get involved. Whoever ascends the throne will seek to win over court officials—this is the Merit for Supporting the Ascension. For others, it might be an opportunity, but for us, it would merely be gilding the lily."

Her words were tactful yet straightforward, straightforward yet comforting, making Song Mo's eyes light up with curiosity. He asked, puzzled, "How did you come to think of this?"

"This morning, my sisters-in-law visited me and mentioned an old family dispute between half-brothers back home. It got me reflecting," Dou Zhao replied quickly, her mind racing. "Even a fortune of three to five hundred taels can lead to bloody conflicts—how much more so for an entire empire?"

Song Mo chuckled, amused by Dou Zhao's suspicious nature. Logically, someone like her would rarely trust others easily, yet for some reason, she had never doubted him... He found himself staring at her.

Dou Zhao was wearing an everyday emerald-green padded jacket, her complexion rosy and lively. The Pearl Earrings at her ears shimmered with a soft glow, accentuating her delicate, radiant face.

"What is it?" Dou Zhao touched her cheek. "Is there something on my face?"

"Nothing," Song Mo said. "I thought I saw a mark earlier, but upon closer look, it was just the reflection from your hairpin... My mistake."

"Oh!" Dou Zhao sighed in relief.

Song Mo then asked, "What have you been up to these past few days at home?"

Dou Zhao immediately perked up and recounted how Tao Qizhong had gone to Zhen Ding to investigate her, only to be ambushed by Duan Gongyi and the others.

Song Mo was stunned, then burst into hearty laughter. "If you had lived during the Spring and Autumn period, you might have been the next Lord Mengchang—surrounded by all sorts of talented rogues!" He added, "Duan Gongyi did well. You should reward him generously."

Dou Zhao smiled faintly and mentioned that Mr. Chen and the others would arrive in the capital in October. "...When the time comes, I’d like you to decide how to arrange things."

These were her Dowry Servants, and Song Mo had no intention of taking them for himself. Besides, Song Yichun’s hostility toward him was blatant, and Dou Zhao needed protection. He discussed it with her: "How about having them stay at the Hall of Cultivating Will? They can manage the inner household affairs."

This was also Dou Zhao’s plan. "Publicly, they’ll just be my Dowry Servants, but at critical moments, they can assist you. Master Yan and the others will operate openly, while Mr. Chen and his group work in secret—that’s the safest approach."

Song Mo had always admired Chen Qushui’s strategic mind and Duan Gongyi’s martial prowess, and the idea excited him. The more he thought about it, the more he agreed with Dou Zhao’s plan.

However, the number of people seemed excessive!

Perhaps due to the rushed dowry preparations, most of her dowry consisted of gold, silver, jewelry, antiques, paintings, and even Silver Notes, with no farmsteads or shops. Since they had decided on a dual approach—open and covert—they needed a plausible explanation for the sudden influx of people.

He smiled. "I’ll inform Master Yan and have him acquire a few farmsteads for you before October. We can say they were gifted to you as Personal Savings by your father." At this, he couldn’t help but laugh. "With that chest of Silver Notes as a foundation, no matter how outrageous your father’s actions seem, people probably won’t find it unbelievable!"Dou Zhao feigned anger, "Don't speak ill of my father!" Her sidelong glance carried an unintentional charm that made Song Mo's heart race.

"I wouldn't dare!" he hurriedly replied. "I merely meant that Father-in-law is a man of true character—no mockery intended." Then inspiration struck, and he added with a smile, "Father-in-law gave us such generous gifts, so sending a few guards is only natural, an expression of his affection!" This could explain why Dou Zhao had so many guards.

Only then did Dou Zhao understand his concern, and a mischievous glint flashed in her eyes. "No need to worry about that. After Mr. Chen and the others arrive, they'll bring some additional assets. Then no one will question why I have so many dowry servants."

Father-in-law must have spent at least five or six thousand taels on Dou Zhao's dowry. Even if he added more assets later, it wouldn't be excessive.

Song Mo didn't dwell on it and instead asked about the Duke of Yingguo: "After I left, did Father summon you for questioning?"

"No," Dou Zhao replied with a smile. "When Father-in-law left in the morning, I hadn't yet risen. After his duties, he usually has many social engagements and returns late in the evening, so it wasn't convenient for me to pay my respects—I haven't run into him these past few days."

Song Mo felt slightly relieved. "And you haven't encountered Tianen either?"

"The day before yesterday, he sent a page to deliver two packets of poria cocos powder," Dou Zhao said, unable to suppress a laugh. "He said it would calm the nerves and nourish vitality, and told me to ask for more when I finished."

Song Mo couldn't help but chuckle as well, apologetically adding, "That's just his nature—he's been spoiled by Mother since childhood..." His voice trailed off with a sigh.

Dou Zhao smiled reassuringly. "I never had a younger brother, so I'll treat him as my own. You needn't worry."

Indeed, with Dou Zhao by his side, what did he have to fear?

Shaking off his earlier melancholy, Song Mo brightened. "By the way, I recall you have large flower gardens at both the Zhen Ding farmstead and your family home. There's also a small garden behind the Hall of Cultivating Will. Since I'm off duty tomorrow, why don't I help you till the soil and set up trellises to create a proper flower bed? Where would you like it? Should we build a flower shed? I remember all the flower farmers in Fengtai have them. How about adding some Taihu rocks? Gu Yu happens to be traveling to Huai'an soon—I can have him pick out a couple of nice stones for you."

Dou Zhao looked puzzled. "Why were you in Fengtai?"

"A friend of mine is stationed at the Fengtai Military Camp," Song Mo explained. "On the way, I noticed many flower farmers' sheds and got curious, so I stopped to ask." Ever the man of action, he slid off the kang, slipped on his shoes, and was ready to head to the garden with Dou Zhao.

Watching his enthusiasm, Dou Zhao couldn't help but laugh. "Winter's almost here—who tills soil and builds trellises at this time? If you want to arrange the garden, we'll have to wait until spring!"

"Really?" Song Mo froze mid-step, his shoes half-on, his expression caught between embarrassment and indecision.

As Dou Zhao watched him, her heart rippled like a pond disturbed by a pebble, sending gentle waves across its surface.

Song Mo, heir to the Duke of England's Mansion—what kind of friend stationed at Fengtai Military Camp would warrant his personal visit?

Once again, she saw that radiant youth sweating as he helped her dig up chrysanthemum seedlings in the flower fields.“However,” Dou Zhao smiled brightly at Song Mo, her eyes holding an indulgence she herself hadn’t noticed, “this is actually the perfect time to set up the Flower Shed. We might even manage to grow a batch of radishes in time. Packed in small bamboo baskets by New Year’s, they’d make the finest festive gifts.”

Was she trying to ease his embarrassment, or did she genuinely believe they could grow radishes?

Song Mo gazed intently at Dou Zhao, his smile spreading from his eyes to the tips of his brows.

“Can you really grow radishes in a Flower Shed?” He slipped on his shoes. “I’ve never heard of such a thing.”

“That just shows how little you know about Farming Walls!” Dou Zhao laughed as they walked side by side out of the inner chamber. “Otherwise, where do you think winter radishes and cucumbers come from in the dead of winter?” She turned to him with a suggestion. “How about we try growing some this year? If we succeed, we could send some to relatives like Ningde Princess and Old Madam Lu. What do you think?”

“Sounds good!” Song Mo, who knew nothing about such matters, naturally deferred to her. “Should we hire someone to help…?”

As they chatted, they passed through the hallway toward the small garden.

Su Xin, trailing behind them, couldn’t help but lower her head to hide a smile.

Her young mistress had little patience for coaxing others—yet she always unwittingly ended up indulging the Young Lord.