Blossom

Zhao Liangbi said, "Here is the inventory of the properties under Madam's name and the account books from the past few years." He then explained to Song Mo, "Third Master led us into the city at the break of dawn. We first went to Locust Tree Alley to pay respects to Second Madam, had lunch, and then proceeded to Jing'an Temple Alley. Seventh Master suggested we reconcile the accounts at Jing'an Temple Alley. But Third Master said since Madam can understand the account books and these properties are under her name, it would be better to do it at The Duke of England's Mansion. If there are any questions, Madam can directly ask Third Young Master. So he had me bring the inventory, account books, and the accompanying female family members here, and instructed me to seek the Young Lord and Madam's instructions on setting a date for the reconciliation."

There was one thing he didn’t mention.

Apart from the reasons above, when Third Master and Second Madam were discussing where to reconcile the accounts, Second Madam had also remarked, "It would also serve as an explanation to the Young Lord."

He felt this statement revealed Second Madam’s tendency to seek advantage and avoid harm in the most blatant way, which was truly embarrassing for Madam, so he chose to omit it.

Song Mo glanced at the seal on the camphorwood chest and smiled faintly, saying, "Then let’s follow Third Master’s suggestion and reconcile the accounts in the Reception Hall of the Hall of Cultivating Will." He added, "Where are Third Master and Third Young Master staying? As juniors, Madam and I should pay them a visit."

Zhao Liangbi quickly replied, "Third Master and Third Young Master are both resting at Locust Tree Alley."

I wonder if they’ll be able to sleep tonight!

Song Mo grumbled inwardly and instructed Chen He to send an invitation to Locust Tree Alley: "Madam and I will visit Third Master and Third Young Master first thing tomorrow morning." He then asked, "What is Madam doing now? Inform her as well and ask for her opinion on when to reconcile the accounts."

Chen He responded with a smile and left to personally relay the message to the inner courtyard.

Dou Zhao was holding the hand of Duan Gongyi’s mother and saying, "Martial arts instructor Duan saved my life. You are like an elder to me. Only when you are settled comfortably in the Hall of Cultivating Will can my heart be at ease. Please don’t stand on ceremony with me. If there’s anything inconvenient or uncomfortable regarding daily necessities, just tell Su Xin." She called for Su Xin and introduced the maids by her side to the elderly lady. "If she’s not around, you can look for Su Lan, Gan Lu, or Su Juan. Let them handle things for you..."

"This won’t do!" The elderly lady quickly stood up. "How can we trouble Madam’s attendants like this?"

"You’re mistaken to say that. They are all your juniors—there’s no trouble at all." Dou Zhao knew that elderly people often felt uneasy when away from home. Only when their families were settled could the guards truly focus on assisting her.

The two were chatting happily when Chen He arrived.

He respectfully relayed Song Mo’s message to Dou Zhao.

After a moment’s thought, Dou Zhao said, "We’ll visit Third Master and Third Young Master tomorrow and start reconciling the accounts the day after."

Chen He smiled and withdrew.

Dou Zhao exchanged a few more words with the families of Chen Xiaofeng and the others. Considering their exhaustion from the journey, she personally escorted the elderly lady out through the Hanging Flower Gate.

When the elderly lady saw her son later, she couldn’t help but sigh, "No wonder you turned down your senior brother’s repeated invitations to serve as a martial arts instructor in the Ministry of War in the Capital. Madam truly treats people with kindness and righteousness!"

Duan Gongyi chuckled in response.Old Mrs. Duan admonished him: "Though you once did Madam a favor, she repaid you with a reward at the time and has shown you great kindness over the years. Any debt between you has long been settled. You mustn't become arrogant or hold it over her..."

She went on at length with her warnings, leaving Duan Gongyi torn between laughter and exasperation. He repeatedly agreed with her and spent half the day persuading his mother to go wash up and rest.

After seeing off Old Mrs. Duan, Dou Zhao changed her clothes and met with Zhao Liangbi.

Zhao Liangbi first presented the clothes and shoes that Consort Cui and Hong Gu had made for her, updating her on Consort Cui's recent situation before recounting all the trivial household matters that had occurred in Dou Zhao's absence.

As she listened, Dou Zhao observed Su Xin.

She noticed that during the half-hour conversation with Zhao Liangbi, Su Xin had refilled their tea six times.

A slight smile tugged at Dou Zhao's lips. Knowing Zhao Liangbi wanted to stay overnight at the stationery shop to properly catch up with Cui Shisan and Tian Fugui, she didn't detain him. Leaving Su Juan on night duty, she went to arrange Song Mo's dinner.

Seeing the crispy duck on the table, Song Mo knew Dou Zhao had been cooking again. "You could have let the old women in the kitchen handle it," he said with a smile. "It's so cold out—mind your hands don't freeze."

Dou Zhao laughed. "Their cooking isn't as good as mine."

"That's true," Song Mo admitted, feeling slightly regretful.

He enjoyed seeing Dou Zhao bustling about for him and had found ways to make her wait on him. After she once made this crispy duck that he particularly enjoyed, he had the kitchen staff prepare it the next day, but it never tasted as good as when Dou Zhao made it. He'd dropped the matter, but unbeknownst to him, Dou Zhao had taken note. She occasionally had the kitchen make it, but finding their version still lacking, she tried teaching the cooks several times. For some reason, their attempts always fell short, so Dou Zhao stopped bothering to figure out why and simply made it herself when in the mood.

He hadn't realized how attentive Dou Zhao could be—she'd remembered his preference after just one mention.

Song Mo muttered to himself, but his heart felt like melting sugar, sweet and warm.

Sitting close to Dou Zhao, he suggested, "Why always crispy duck in winter? How about some sweet rice dumplings in fermented glutinous rice soup instead?"

Dou Zhao raised an eyebrow, giving him a sidelong glance. "Are you sure?"

Song Mo hesitated.

Dou Zhao burst out laughing. "You won't even eat lüdagunr (fried dough rolls with bean paste)—you'd eat sweet dumplings?"

Song Mo was stumped.

He'd only wanted to spare Dou Zhao the effort by suggesting the simplest dish possible to divert her attention.

Dou Zhao giggled like a child.

This man—even his thoughtfulness came wrapped in such roundabout ways.

But then, she used to be like that too, so much so that not everyone could recognize her good intentions.

Having lived two lives, she'd gained more openness and shed some reserve, finally learning to say no to others.

Dou Zhao personally served Song Mo a bowl of soup, her joyful smile reaching from her eyes to her heart, radiating warmth. "Drink up before it gets cold and loses its flavor."

Song Mo buried himself in his soup.

Dou Zhao ate quietly, but somehow couldn't keep her eyes off the striking young man across from her, frequently lifting her gaze to look at him, her heart fluttering like willow catkins in the breeze.

Annoyed, Song Mo glared at her.

Dou Zhao couldn't help laughing again."Still laughing? Still laughing?" Song Mo stormed off to the study in embarrassed anger.

Gan Lu, who had been serving them during the meal, turned pale with fright.

"It's nothing," Dou Zhao reassured her before going to freshen up.

Song Mo remained in the study.

Was he truly angry?

Dou Zhao pondered this as she had Gan Lu brew some Maojian tea, which she then personally carried to the study.

Song Mo was reclining by the window reading when Dou Zhao entered with tea, clearly surprised by her arrival.

Sitting beside him, she handed him the tea with a smile. "Still angry?"

Song Mo paused momentarily before his eyes flashed with an unreadable light. Throwing back the quilt, he growled, "Get in here! Keep me company while I read, and I'll forgive you!"

Yet Dou Zhao sensed no real malice in his words—only a blustering front.

Suppressing her amusement, she changed into an outer garment and obediently nestled into his embrace. "What are you reading?" she asked softly.

Song Mo immediately wrapped her up snugly, his voice softening involuntarily. "The Grand Training of Culture. So I won't be caught off guard if the Emperor asks about it."

Dou Zhao propped herself up slightly. "Cousin Ji Yong was involved in compiling it, wasn't he?"

Song Mo sat up against the headboard, flipping to the title page and pointing at Ji Yong's name. "Right here."

After glancing at it, Dou Zhao asked, "What's it about?"

"Reprimands the Emperor gave to ministers in his early years."

"Ah! There's actually a book like that."

"Why not?" Song Mo said dismissively. "I once found a poetry collection written by Emperor Taizong in the imperial study."

From Song Mo's expression, Dou Zhao could guess the quality of those poems.

"I wonder who came up with this idea," she murmured, leaning against Song Mo's shoulder. "What a resounding way to flatter."

Song Mo scoffed. "Liang Jifang."

"Really?" Dou Zhao was astonished. "But isn't he known for being upright and uncompromising?"

"That depends on who he's dealing with," Song Mo replied, pinching Dou Zhao's delicate cheek. "Only a little fool like you would believe that!"

"Little fool?" Dou Zhao protested playfully. "I'm a year older than you."

"Then 'elder sister' it is," Song Mo teased, tossing the book aside and rolling onto her, nibbling her ear as he murmured, "Elder sister..."

"Stop it!" Dou Zhao giggled, pushing at him. "That tickles..."

Song Mo released her, instead pressing a tender kiss to her forehead.

Outside, the cold wind rattled the window frames noisily, while inside, passion burned fiercely between them.

Only when Dou Zhao pleaded, "Gan Lu and the others are waiting outside—can we continue later?" did Song Mo relent.

Having already sated himself for the moment, he craftily decided to restrain his ardor for even sweeter rewards later. With a hum of agreement, he rolled onto his side.

Dou Zhao exhaled in relief.

If Song Mo had his way, soon everyone at the Hall of Cultivating Will would know.

She rose to call Gan Lu for water, her snow-white skin and alluring curves fully visible to Song Mo.

His long arm reached out, pulling her back under the covers.

"Call them later," he murmured, his hand cupping the weight of her breast. "Let's talk first."

Is this how people hold conversations?

Dou Zhao found it both exasperating and amusing.

Song Mo had already asked, "What did you do when you were little?"

"Oh?" Dou Zhao blinked in surprise.Song Mo smiled and said, "When I was little, every winter like this, I would snuggle in my mother's arms and listen to her tell us stories about Nüwa and Fuxi. There was a big brazier in the middle of the room, and the roasted beans buried in the ashes would pop and crackle, jumping everywhere..."

The quilt still carried the lingering scent of their earlier intimacy, but Dou Zhao was drawn in by the lighthearted joy in Song Mo's tone.

She grew quiet, thinking of her own childhood.

In her past life, she would sit upright on the kang, legs crossed, doing needlework.

In this life, she lounged lazily under the covers, watching the maids sit straight-backed as they did their needlework.

She chuckled, "Needlework!"

"Think properly—don’t brush me off!" Song Mo leaned over Dou Zhao, speaking with playful dominance. "Surely you must have built a snowman, had a snowball fight, or run around in the snow with your maids?"