Blossom

Dou Zhao couldn't tell whether she was feeling jealousy or envy. A surge of emotion welled up in her chest, churning like raging rivers, so overwhelming that she feared one more glance at her son might drive her to do something she'd regret.

"Take the tallies to the Young Lord," she instructed Cuileng. "Pass on my orders—from now on, not only the Young Lord's household affairs but also those of the Second Master and Yin Jie'er will be managed by Madam Zhu."

"Mother!" Wei Ge'er looked up, sensing something unusual in the air.

"Madam, you mustn't!" Madam Zhu's voice was shrill, her face instantly drained of color.

After all, she was someone Dou Zhao had chosen herself—sharp and perceptive.

With her watching over the children, they could guard against any underhanded schemes.

Dou Zhao closed her eyes and waved her hand. "I'm tired and wish to rest. All of you, leave now."

"Madam!" Tears welled up in Madam Zhu's eyes as she kowtowed repeatedly to Dou Zhao, her forehead thudding against the floor.

Wei Ge'er stared at Madam Zhu in confusion.

Dou Zhao waved her hand again and turned her back.

"Madam, rest assured. Even if it costs me my life, I will take good care of the young master and young lady," Madam Zhu murmured, kowtowing once more before withdrawing with Wei Ge'er.

The room fell silent, filled with the desolate emptiness of a place abandoned.

Grief welled up in Dou Zhao's heart.

If Wei Tingyu had been more capable, willing to shoulder a man's responsibilities, why would she, a woman confined to the inner household, have stepped forward to manage the Wei family's affairs? And how could she have overlooked the signs in her children?

If her mother-in-law had shown more concern for her grandchildren instead of constantly seeking divine blessings, would the children have regarded Madam Zhu, who shared no blood ties with them, as their closest kin?

Or perhaps she had simply chosen the wrong person from the start?

If Madam Zhu had been greedy, opportunistic, vulgar, or prone to gossip, her sons wouldn't have clung to her memory so persistently.

But then again, how could she have allowed such a person to stay by her sons' side and guide them?

She didn't even know whom to blame!

At times like these, Dou Zhao would think of her mother, who had passed away too soon.

She had been so young—how could her mother have left her all alone?

If her birth mother had lived, teaching her how to be a wife and a mother, perhaps she wouldn't have suffered so much or taken so many wrong turns. Maybe her children wouldn't have grown distant and estranged from her.

There was no answer to these questions.

Dou Zhao felt nothing but exhaustion seeping into her bones.

She pulled the quilt over her head, burying herself in the enveloping darkness.

Drowsily, she heard waves of weeping. She tried to open her eyes, but her eyelids felt as heavy as lead, impossible to lift. Then Wei Tingyu's voice whispered tearfully by her ear, "If you leave, what will I—" before it shifted into Madam Guo's voice: "Don't worry. Wei Ge'er is my grandson-in-law. I will do everything to keep him safe."

Am I dead?

Dou Zhao struggled to open her eyes and found herself sitting on a heated kang. Sunlight reflected off the snow in the courtyard, streaming through the windows covered with Korean paper, filling the room with a bright, snowy glow.

Across from her sat a beautiful young woman with a red mole at the corner of her lips, playing cat's cradle with her. Four or five maids, aged between ten and fifteen, sat around the kang doing needlework.

They all wore cotton jackets of fine cloth and coarse skirts, some adorned with small silver earrings, others with silver hairpins. Their simple attire revealed their delicate and refined nature, bringing an unconscious smile to one's lips.The people in the room were all strangers to Dou Zhao, yet she felt an inexplicable familiarity.

Back in her maternal home in Zhen Ding County, this was exactly how their servant women dressed in winter.

So, she had entered another dream again.

Dou Zhao giggled and slipped off the kang, wanting to see what needlework the young maids were doing. But her feet couldn’t reach the ground, and she ended up dangling from the edge of the kang.

The little maids stifled their laughter.

A lovely young woman hurriedly helped her down, murmuring, “What does Fourth Miss want? Just tell your wet nurse! I’ll fetch it for you.”

So this was her wet nurse!

Dou Zhao couldn’t help but laugh.

Her previous wet nurse had been plump and doughy like a steamed bun, but this one was as delicate as a flower on a branch. She wondered what the next one would look like?

She scampered toward the maids doing needlework, only to suddenly realize she had shrunk considerably. The tables and chairs, which had once seemed ordinary to her, now loomed twice as tall.

Ha! This dream was incredibly detailed!

The maids looked up and smiled kindly at her.

The older ones were stitching shoe soles, while the younger ones were weaving decorative knots, their movements deft and practiced—clearly accustomed to such tasks.

A biting cold wind rushed in.

Dou Zhao looked up and saw the door curtain lifted as a group of maids escorted a woman inside.

Everyone in the room rose to greet her, addressing her as “Seventh Madam.”

Dou Zhao stared at her in a daze.

She was no more than eighteen or nineteen, of medium height, slender with an oval face, willow-leaf brows, and cherry lips. She wore a peach-red Ornate Back Coat embroidered with a subtle vase pattern, her skin glowing like snow, more radiant than any flower.

This… was her mother!

She didn’t resemble her mother at all.

Dou Zhao was tall and curvaceous, with an oval face, long brows that arched toward her temples, full lips, and snow-white skin. When her gaze turned sharp, she exuded an intimidating aura—just like her father. When she first married into the Marquis of Jining’s Mansion, she had trimmed her brows into willow-leaf shapes and kept her eyes half-lowered to appear more demure, managing to mimic a fraction of her mother’s delicate beauty.

Her mother walked toward her with a bright smile.

Now she could see her even more clearly.

Her mother’s face was flawless, like fine jade, breathtakingly beautiful.

She bent down and playfully tapped Dou Zhao’s nose, teasing, “Shou Gu, what’s the matter? Don’t you recognize your mother?”

Shou Gu?

Was that her childhood name?

She had never known she had such a name.

Tears welled up without warning.

She clung to her mother’s leg in a messy embrace.

“Mother! Mother!”

She cried like a helpless child.

“Oh dear!” Her mother didn’t seem to sense her sorrow at all, turning to the wet nurse with a laugh. “What’s wrong with Shou Gu? Crying for no reason?” There wasn’t a trace of suspicion or blame in her tone—clearly, she trusted the wet nurse completely.

“She was fine just a moment ago,” the wet nurse replied, equally puzzled. “Perhaps she’s crying because she saw you? Daughters always find a reason to cry when they see their mothers.”

“Is that so?” Her mother lifted her onto the warm kang. “This child, she’s soaked my skirt with her tears.”

Dou Zhao froze.

Shouldn’t a mother be most concerned about why her child was crying? Yet hers was worried about her skirt…

Was she… really her mother?

Her eyes widened.

Twin trails of glistening tears still clung to her little face.Mother burst into laughter, took out a handkerchief to wipe her tears, and said to the wet nurse, "This child has gone silly!" Then she gently hugged her, kissed her little face, and asked, "Your father is coming home soon. Are you happy?" Her eyes and brows brimmed with irrepressible joy.

Dou Zhao let out an "Ah!" and nearly jumped up.

How could she have forgotten such an important matter!

She didn’t know the exact details of what had happened between her parents back then. However, according to Tuo Niang, her father had met her stepmother when he went to the Capital to take the Provincial Examination. Poor Mother, completely unaware, had simply taken Father’s letter at face value when he wrote that he would be traveling around the Capital for a while. She waited eagerly at home every day, even worrying that Father might not have enough silver and considering secretly sending her dowry servant Yu Daqing to deliver some to him. Later, for some reason, Grandfather found out and scolded her harshly, forcing her to abandon the idea.

The Provincial Examination was held in August. Now, with snow already falling outside, it must be deep winter, yet Father still hadn’t returned. But with Grandfather still alive, it was impossible for Father to stay away for the New Year—meaning there was still time to warn Mother.

But Mother was holding Dou Zhao tightly, and no matter how much she struggled, she couldn’t break free. Frustrated, she cried out loudly, "Mother!"

"What’s gotten into Shou Gu today?" Mother was puzzled by her daughter’s unusual restlessness and cast a stern glance at the wet nurse.

The wet nurse grew visibly nervous. "I slept with the Fourth Miss until chenshi (7-9 a.m.), then she had a bowl of millet porridge, a meat bun, and a flower roll..."

"Didn’t I say she should drink a cup of warm water first thing in the morning?" Mother interrupted sharply. "Did you give her water today?"

"I did, I did!" The wet nurse hurriedly replied, her earlier ease gone. "Just as you instructed, I first wrapped her in a quilt, dressed her in a thin inner jacket, and then gave her warm water..."

Ugh! Why were they talking about this now?

She had grown up in the countryside farmstead with Grandmother until she was twelve. In summer, she would go fishing with the children of the farmhands, drinking straight from the river when thirsty. In winter, she hunted sparrows in the mountains, roasting and eating them when hungry—and she had turned out just fine.

Dou Zhao tugged at Mother’s sleeve. "Mother..." She wanted to say, "Father is bringing a woman home," but the words caught in her throat, and all that came out were the fragmented phrases, "Father... woman..."

Hearing her speak, Mother turned back with a smile and asked patiently, "Shou Gu, what are you trying to say?"

"Mother," Dou Zhao struggled to articulate, "Father... woman..." This time, the words were clearer, but still incomplete.

Sweat beaded on her forehead from frustration.

Mother’s face lit up, completely ignoring the word "woman," and she exclaimed happily, "So our Shou Gu misses Father too! Gaosheng sent word that your father will be back in a couple of days. He’s even bought New Year’s fireworks, lanterns, and incense—special ones from the Capital! They burst into all sorts of dazzling colors. You won’t find them anywhere in Zhen Ding County, not even in Zhen Ding Prefecture..."

Who cared about fireworks at a time like this!

Dou Zhao was beside herself with urgency and simply repeated "Father" and "woman" over and over.

Mother’s expression gradually darkened, and she asked seriously, "Shou Gu, what are you trying to say?"Dou Zhao heaved a sigh of relief, took a deep breath, and enunciated each word slowly: "Dad... dad... brought... a... woman... home..."

The childish voice was clear and loud.

As if slapped across the face, Mother's expression turned to shock, disbelief, and bewilderment.

The wet nurse and maids exchanged glances, their faces filled with alarm.

The room fell deathly silent.

The warm curtain was suddenly flung aside as a little maid with three-bun hairstyle rushed in breathlessly: "Seventh Madam, Seventh Master has returned! Seventh Master has come back from the Capital!"

"Really?" Mother's face immediately lit up with joy. She lifted her skirts to run out, but stopped after two steps. After a moment's thought, she turned back to pick up Dou Zhao. "Let's go greet Father together!"

It seemed Mother had grown suspicious.

Dou Zhao relaxed in relief, wrapping her arms around Mother's neck as she loudly agreed, "Okay!"