Blossom

The Hall of Cultivating Will was bathed in boundless spring breezes, while the Cassia Fragrance Courtyard seemed as though it had been swept by a gale, with even the plants and trees trembling—let alone the maids and pages on duty.

Song Yichun paced back and forth in the study, hands clasped behind his back, his expression fraught with anxiety.

The soft glow of the octagonal palace lantern flickered across his face and back, casting his mood in an uncertain light.

"I should have known that little beast wouldn’t let Dou Shi suffer any grievances, not when she comes with a dowry of hundreds of thousands of taels of silver," he muttered, stopping abruptly. His gaze fixed on the lantern, his eyes turning sinister. "Today, he stepped in for that Dou woman to manage the household affairs—the venison was undercooked, the prawns still reeked of fishiness, and eggshells were found in the lotus root soup. Yet because that little beast stood there smiling and toasting, not a single person dared to complain. Instead, they kept praising how well the Private Performance was sung..." Suddenly, he recalled something and demanded, "Didn’t we have people watching the Hall of Cultivating Will all along? How is it that you didn’t know Song Mo had invited Zeng Chusheng of the Guanglian Troupe for the Private Performance? Whose idea was this?"

Last month, when the Eighth Prince established his household and invited Zeng Chusheng to perform, the latter, though ill, dared not refuse. Midway through the performance, he lost his voice. Everyone knew he was unwell, so no one had invited him during the Spring Festival. Yet unexpectedly, he appeared at the Duke of England's Mansion. The guests were so pleasantly surprised that none cared about the quality of the banquet.

Song Yichun, as the host, had been present.

Fuming, his face dark with suppressed rage, he had no choice but to endure the guests’ cheers and force a smile while discussing Zeng Chusheng’s performance with them.

Tao Qizhong could only offer a bitter smile. "I truly don’t know what happened. There was absolutely no sign beforehand."

Song Yichun had no patience for his excuses. "If you didn’t know beforehand, couldn’t you have investigated afterward?" he sneered coldly. "Today, he used Zeng Chusheng to save face. Let’s see what he’ll do tomorrow."

Tao Qizhong fell silent for a moment before murmuring an obedient "Yes" and seizing the chance to retreat.

Standing on the veranda, he exhaled deeply.

The Duke seemed to have lost his senses in anger, obsessing over trivial matters. What good would it do to suppress Madam? As long as the Young Lord remained favored by the Emperor and his career thrived, people would show Madam deference. Not only was Madam shrewd and capable—making it hard to find fault with her—but even if flaws were found, would anyone risk offending the Young Lord just to criticize her for amusement?

Shaking his head, Tao Qizhong walked away.

Passing the tea room, he spotted Zeng Wu grinning cheekily as he flirted with a maid in a crimson jacket at the corner.

Tao Qizhong sighed in resignation.

This Zeng Wu, newly promoted by the Duke, was far inferior to Lü Zheng!

The thought barely crossed his mind when he froze.

That maid in the crimson jacket—wasn’t she Luo Yan, who served in the Duke’s chambers?

He hurried back.

Both Zeng Wu and Luo Yan had vanished.

Only a young maid tending the stove remained in the tea room.

After searching the area, he found no trace of Zeng Wu but saw Luo Yan emerging from Song Yichun’s room, carrying an empty crimson-glazed bowl.Upon seeing Tao Qizhong, she was startled. Her voice tense, she called out, "Tao Qizhong," and with a flustered expression, said, "The Duke hasn't retired yet. I'll go inform him of your arrival right away."

"No need," Tao Qizhong replied impassively. "I've just come from the Duke's quarters. You may carry on with your duties." With that, he walked away.

Luo Yan let out a sigh of relief.

Watching Tao Qizhong's figure disappear into the night, she immediately dashed toward the osmanthus grove behind the tea room.

Zeng Wu was eagerly waiting there.

Spotting Luo Yan, he hurriedly asked, "How did it go?"

Luo Yan clutched her chest, panting heavily. "I was almost discovered by Mr. Tao... Quick, write this down—I only remember this much... There are twenty-eight people in total, all from Third Princess's household. Besides the Third Princess, there are twelve female relatives..."

She relayed most of the names Song Yichun had invited for tomorrow's banquet.

Though Zeng Wu could scribble a few clumsy characters, it was pitch dark with no paper or ink. How could he write anything?

But his memory was sharp, and he managed to recall most of the names Luo Yan mentioned.

He handed her a gilded hairpin, two pearl hair ornaments, and a few pieces of broken silver before darting off like a gust of wind.

Luo Yan didn't care for the hairpin or ornaments—if discovered, people might assume she and Zeng Wu had an affair. But before she could say anything, he had already vanished.

Grumbling, she left the osmanthus grove.

At the tea room entrance, she unexpectedly saw Tao Qizhong peering inside.

For a moment, she was stunned.

Tao Qizhong, however, smiled and said, "I thought I just saw Zeng Wu..."

Luo Yan felt the jewelry in her sleeve burn against her skin. "I didn't see Zeng Wu..."

Tao Qizhong chuckled as he walked away. "Perhaps my eyes deceived me." Once outside Cassia Fragrance Courtyard, he pondered silently—had he misjudged the situation?

He headed to Zeng Chusheng's residence near the Thousand Buddha Temple.

Zeng Chusheng personally greeted him, speaking with great courtesy. "The Duke has already bestowed generous gifts. There was no need for you to trouble yourself with a visit, Mr. Tao. If you had any matters, you could have simply sent someone to inform me." He then served premium Biluochun tea to his guest.

Tao Qizhong was inwardly astonished.

From Zeng Chusheng's tone, it seemed the Duke had invited him to perform at a private gathering!

How could that be?

Was someone impersonating the Duke?

Testing the waters, he said, "It's nothing urgent. The Duke merely sent me to inquire about your upcoming schedule."

Zeng Chusheng smiled and instructed his apprentice to bring a grand, gold-sprinkled opera program, handing it to Tao Qizhong. "These are the performances I have lined up. If the Duke finds them unsuitable, adjustments can be made according to his preferences at any time."

Tao Qizhong accepted the program and said, "I was given this task abruptly and don’t know the full context..."

Zeng Chusheng, accustomed to mingling with noble households, assumed Tao Qizhong was vying for favor with another steward and quickly clarified, "It was Master Cui Shisan from your mansion's Affairs Office who invited me. This program was also his suggestion."

Since when did the Duke of England's Mansion have a Cui in the Affairs Office?

For a few moments, Tao Qizhong was bewildered before realizing this "Cui" was likely a relative of Madam Cui, the old concubine from the Duke's wife's family...

Zeng Chusheng had already performed once, and the Duke's mansion had hosted him. How could Tao Qizhong now claim this "Cui" was a fraud?

With a stifled breath and a heavy heart, Tao Qizhong exchanged a few more pleasantries with Zeng Chusheng before taking his leave and returning to the Duke of England's Mansion.Song Yichun had already gone to bed but got up again upon hearing that Tao Qizhong had arrived.

Tao Qizhong recounted the incident to Song Yichun.

Song Yichun immediately kicked a footstool in anger.

The footstool toppled over, and his toes throbbed painfully.

Clutching his foot, he shouted at Tao Qizhong, "Throw that actor out tomorrow! Does he really think he can perform here for several days? Not a chance!"

"Absolutely not!" Tao Qizhong hurriedly replied. "That actor frequently moves among noble households, especially interacting with elderly madams and dowagers. There's no guarantee he won't gossip like a woman. If we rashly drive him away, those madams and dowagers will surely inquire. If Zeng Chusheng answers poorly and rumors spread, wouldn’t the Duke of England's Mansion become a laughingstock? The Guanglian Troupe is known as the Capital’s finest. Since it’s the New Year, why not let him finish these performances? It’ll add to the festivities!"

Song Yichun jumped up. "If I can’t deal with those two troublemakers, can’t I even handle an actor? Make him leave tomorrow!"

Tao Qizhong knew he was too furious to be reasoned with and could only retreat gloomily.

Song Yichun ranted in his room for a long time, frightening the night-duty maids and pages into trembling half the night.

Meanwhile, Song Mo gazed at Dou Zhao, her hair damp with sweat, his heart full of tenderness.

He used his undergarment to wipe her face and asked worriedly, "Are you feeling unwell anywhere?"

Dou Zhao felt as if she had run several streets—exhausted, yet inexplicably content.

"Where did you learn such tricks?" Her voice was hoarse from earlier moans. "Tell me honestly?"

She glanced sideways at Song Mo, her eyes shimmering, though inwardly displeased.

She knew she was Song Mo’s first woman—she was well aware of his preferences and skills. But the intimacy they had just shared was not something he could have imagined on his own. She feared he had visited brothels or pleasure quarters, as only such places would teach how to pleasure a pregnant woman.

After their passionate encounter, Song Mo felt as if the clouds had parted to reveal the moon, his heart brimming with joy, completely oblivious to Dou Zhao’s faint displeasure.

He pulled her into his arms, nibbling her ear as he whispered, "Was it good?"

Dou Zhao pondered briefly before answering sincerely in a low voice, "Yes," and wrapped her arms around his waist.

Song Mo instantly grew smug, murmuring, "I asked the palace matrons… They said it was fine…"

Dou Zhao was stunned, then slightly embarrassed.

She should have had more faith in him.

Yet this answer made her face burn.

The matrons who knew such things were typically under the Empress’s supervision.

They would surely report everything truthfully to Her Majesty.

The New Year’s Eve reunion feast and the Lantern Festival on the fifteenth were both imperial family banquets. Even the Empress’s relatives could only attend with special permission, let alone other nobles. The Duke of England's Mansion, however, was considered part of the imperial family due to their ancestors having been royal foster sons, so they attended palace celebrations every year. Thus, their own reunion feast was held on Little New Year’s Eve.

Thinking about having to accompany the inner court ladies to admire the moon and lanterns during the Lantern Festival, Dou Zhao wished she could bury herself under a quilt and sleep forever.To make matters worse, Song Mo teased her, saying with a laugh, "If you meet the Empress when you enter the palace and she asks you to arrange a bedroom servant for me, just say you’ve already done so. After all, I gave the two beauties sent by Jiading Marquis to Gu Yu. Don’t give me away!"

Dou Zhao wished she could disappear into the ground.

"Couldn’t you have held back a little?" She turned away in a huff, sulking at Song Mo. "Now everyone must know about it—how can I face the Empress in the palace?"

"Don’t worry!" Song Mo gently stroked her shoulder and chuckled softly. "When the Empress summoned me, I told her outright—I only like you and no one else... She even reminded me to treat you well, saying you might be moody during your pregnancy and that I should be more patient with you..."