Chu Yu did not touch Wei Yun. Even though he stood properly before her now, she knew that beneath his clothes, his body must be covered in wounds. Changyue and Wanyue, understanding the situation, stepped forward to help Chu Yu up.
A sharp pain shot through her knees, making her gasp. Wei Yun hurried over anxiously, calling out, "Sister-in-law?"
"It's nothing," Chu Yu replied, now much more composed, the earlier vulnerability from her illness gone. She smiled calmly and said, "Let's go back. You're injured too."
With that, she directed Wei Xia and Wei Dong to assist Wei Yun. Wei Yun seemed a little embarrassed and was about to say something when Chu Yu added, "Don't push yourself if your legs are injured. If you end up disabled, the family will have to take care of you."
Wei Yun stiffened slightly, realizing that despite his efforts to hide his condition, she saw through him as clearly as if she held a mirror to his heart.
Chu Yu picked up the memorial tablets of Wei Zhong and Wei Jun, while Wei Yun gathered those of his other brothers. They were then helped into the carriage by the attendants, sitting on opposite sides. Jiang Chun and the others had already returned ahead, while Zhang Han and Xie Jiu, who had collapsed earlier, had recovered enough to return with the group, carrying the memorial tablets onto the carriage and following Chu Yu's carriage back to Wei Manor.
The carriage creaked as it moved, the sound of heavy rain outside. Wei Yun had his wounds bandaged by a servant and noticed Chu Yu across from him, wrapped in a blanket, calmly sipping ginger tea.
He studied her quietly. In just these few days, she had grown noticeably thinner, with dark circles under her eyes and exhaustion written all over her face. Sensing his gaze, Chu Yu looked up and asked, "What are you looking at?"
"Sister-in-law, you've lost weight," Wei Yun said with a light chuckle, his eyes filled with concern. "You've been working hard these days."
Chu Yu took another sip of the ginger tea, an ice cloth pressed to her forehead, and waved her hand dismissively. "You were in prison. As your elder, I couldn't just stand by and watch. Now that you're back..." She sighed in relief. "I can say I've done right by your brother."
Her gaze lingered on Wei Yun. In less than half a month, the young man seemed to have matured rapidly. He had grown taller since leaving Hua Jing, his features more defined, and the look in his eyes had lost the childish innocence unique to youth, as if he had grown up overnight, becoming composed and steady.
When he looked at her and the family, there was a gentleness absent when he faced the outside world. That gentleness made Chu Yu momentarily dazed, as if she were seeing Wei Jun reflected in him.
She had once held hopes for Wei Jun—had even believed he wouldn't die, that this quiet young man would be her companion for life.
Thinking of him, Chu Yu felt an indescribable pang of regret. Her gaze grew distant. Noticing her staring, Wei Yun asked, puzzled, "Sister-in-law?"
Snapped out of her thoughts, Chu Yu smiled and said, "I just realized today that you resemble your brother a little, especially your eyes."
She studied Wei Yun's eyes, her own curving into crescents. "I think he had phoenix eyes too, didn't he?"“Yes.” At the mention of his elder brother, Wei Yun instinctively gripped his clothes, seemingly in great pain as he struggled to say, “My eldest brother… had Phoenix eyes, though his were rounder than mine, making him appear much gentler. There wasn’t anyone who met him and didn’t like him…”
Wei Yun’s voice gradually faded as thunder rumbled outside. Chu Yu watched the carriage curtains rise and fall with the wind, listening to the storm until she realized Wei Yun had fallen silent for a long while. She turned her head slightly, casting a puzzled glance at him.
Wei Yun no longer spoke. His eyes were red, his back hunched, hands clutching his clothes as his body trembled slightly. His hair hung down, obscuring his face so Chu Yu couldn’t see his expression.
From the moment his father and brothers were placed in their coffins until now, he hadn’t shed a tear. He thought he had steeled himself, but now, as everything finally settled and he sat before this woman, memories of his family overwhelmed him, and the pain erupted uncontrollably.
The agony of losing his father and brothers surged forth, tearing at his heart. Before the age of fourteen, he never imagined anything in this world could break him. He always believed the men of the Wei family stood tall and unyielding—what was there to fear, even if death came knocking?
Only now did he realize he was still just a boy. The world held too much sorrow and suffering, enough to crush him effortlessly.
Seeing his state, Chu Yu waved her hand, signaling Wanyue and Wei Xia, who were attending nearby, to withdraw.
Only the two of them remained in the carriage. Chu Yu turned her gaze back outside, where the rain pattered noisily. Her hand rested on the quilt as she suddenly began to sing a borderland folk tune.
It was a Northern Border ballad, traditionally sung by women lining the roads when the army returned from battle, holding up cups of Triumphal wine.
Wei Yun had heard this song many times before. Back then, he would ride on horseback behind his father and brothers, joyfully leaning down to take the wine offered by the nearest girl.
The melody became the final straw. He could no longer hold back, bursting into loud sobs.
Her singing and the rain muffled his cries, giving him an inexplicable sense of security.
No one would witness his current wretchedness. No one would know that the pillar of the Wei family, too, had moments when he couldn’t bear the weight—when he wept like a child.
The storm grew fiercer, yet her voice remained steady and soothing, carrying both a heroic spirit and the gentle warmth unique to women.
She sang until his sobs gradually subsided, only stopping when he quieted down. Then she turned to look at him again, her gaze soft and calm, unchanged even as he lifted his tear-streaked face.
His hair was disheveled, his cheeks wet with tears, but his eyes had regained their composure. Chu Yu smiled faintly and handed him a plain handkerchief embroidered with plum blossoms.
“Once the tears are shed,” her voice carried a strength that filled the heart, as she spoke slowly, “it’s over.”
Over.
All things must come to an end, and all sorrows can pass.
He had never fallen on the battlefield, and now was no different.
Wei Yun took the handkerchief from Chu Yu and carefully wiped his face clean.
Just then, the carriage came to a halt. Wei Xia’s respectful voice sounded from outside: “Young Master, Madam, we’ve arrived at the residence.”
Chu Yu coughed lightly, and Wei Yun stepped forward to support her.Once everything settled down, Chu Yu felt as if she had collapsed in an instant. She leaned all her weight on Wei Yun and Wanyue, while Wei Xia held an umbrella and helped her descend.
As she came down, Chu Yu saw the members of the Wei Manor standing quietly at the entrance, their gazes fixed on her, as if awaiting an answer.
Chu Yu’s eyes swept over them before she finally nodded.
“It’s over,” she said weakly. “The Seventh Young Master has returned. The Wei Manor is safe.”
Upon hearing this, Wang Lan was the first to burst into tears, with Zhang Han supporting her and whispering words of comfort.
Xie Jiu stepped forward, taking Chu Yu from Wei Yun’s arms and guiding her inside.
The Wei Manor erupted in noise—some rejoicing, others weeping. Wei Yun, supported by Wei Xia and Wei Dong, walked into the courtyard. Seeing the white flowers filling the yard, he felt as though he hadn’t returned home in lifetimes.
His gaze was calm as he surveyed the courtyard. The steward hurried over with attendants, anxiously urging, “Seventh Young Master, please return to your room and let the physician examine you—”
Wei Yun said nothing. His eyes fell on the ancestral hall not far away.
Everyone fell silent. Wei Yun pushed Wei Xia and Wei Dong aside and walked toward the ancestral hall alone.
Each step was excruciating, his leg bones aching, yet he pressed on until he stood before the ancestral hall. Seven coffins lay within, seven memorial tablets placed upon the altar. The flickering candlelight cast shifting shadows over the names inscribed on the tablets. Wei Yun stood silently before the coffins, his solitary figure making it seem as though he were the only person left in the world.
Jiang Chun and Yao Jue, supported by others, stepped forward and paused when they saw Wei Yun standing in the ancestral hall, not daring to make a sound.
The young madams watched his back. Clad in prisoner’s garb, his hair loosely tied back with a ribbon, he still bore the silhouette of a youth. Yet, each of them couldn’t help but glimpse traces of their own husbands in their younger days.
The eldest son, Wei Jun—elegant and refined.
The second son, Wei Shu—steady and composed.
The third son, Wei Qin—charming and romantic.
The fourth son, Wei Feng—unrestrained and free-spirited.
The fifth son, Wei Ya—gentle and kind.
The sixth son, Wei Rong—open and cheerful.
Though their traits were distinct, under the candlelight, they seemed to merge strangely within the youth named Wei Yun. There was something they all shared, something that made the onlookers see reflections of their lost loved ones in his solitary figure.
Unable to bear the sight any longer, the young madams turned away one by one. Only Chu Yu’s gaze remained fixed on the youth. She watched as he stood for a moment, then slowly knelt, taking three sticks of incense, bowing reverently, and placing them in the incense burner.
Then he rose and stepped out of the ancestral hall with calm composure.
No reluctance, no sorrow, no tears, no wails. Yet no one dared to accuse him of filial impiety.
It was as though he were a phoenix reborn from fire—having endured utter despair, he emerged anew as hope in this world.
As he walked out of the ancestral hall, Wei Xia was the first to react, rushing to support him. Wei Yun did not refuse, allowing Wei Xia and Wei Dong to escort him away.
Only after he had left did Wanyue ask Chu Yu, “Young Madam, shall we return?”
Chu Yu nodded, and only then did she return to her room.After returning to her room and freshening up, Chu Yu felt completely drained. She collapsed onto the sickbed and slept for three days straight, drifting in and out of consciousness.
All she could recall was bowl after bowl of medicinal broth being forced down her throat. Amidst the haze, she heard many voices. Whenever she managed to open her eyes, it felt like an immense effort.
Wei Yun had suffered mostly superficial wounds, with only his leg requiring prolonged rest. After being bandaged and confined to a wheelchair, he was otherwise fine. Upon hearing that Chu Yu had fallen ill with a severe cold, he began tending to her from the second day onward.
On the first day of her high fever, Chu Yu was at her worst. Everyone took turns watching over her, but by midnight, all the women of the household had grown too exhausted to continue. Only Wei Yun, still in good health, remained in the room with the servants.
Jiang Chun initially tried to persuade Wei Yun to rest, reasoning that the servants could handle things. But Wei Yun shook his head and said, "If I don’t keep watch over sister-in-law, I won’t find peace."
Jiang Chun paused, then understood—Wei Yun wasn’t staying for Chu Yu’s sake. He was merely using her illness as an excuse for his own sleeplessness.
Though he neither cried nor complained, it didn’t mean he wasn’t grieving or in pain.
So Jiang Chun withdrew, leaving only the servants to accompany Wei Yun in the outer chamber of Chu Yu’s room.
Wei Yun didn’t enter the inner quarters. Instead, he sat outside, carefully copying Wei Jun’s handwriting from old manuscripts.
Ever since Wei Jun’s death, whenever Wei Yun felt unsettled, he would practice replicating his elder brother’s calligraphy.
As the heir, Wei Jun had been expected to excel in everything from childhood. Liu Xueyang, coming from a scholarly family, held particularly high standards for him. Thus, despite being raised in a military household, Wei Jun had developed impeccable penmanship.
In the past, Wei Jun had often urged him to study harder, but Wei Yun had never cared to put in the effort. Now that Wei Jun was gone, fulfilling his brother’s expectations made him feel as though he could once again reach out to the elder brother who had been perfect in his eyes.
As Wei Yun traced the strokes of the characters, Chu Yu sank deeper into her dreams.
In her dream, she walked alone through endless snow.
When was this?
She pondered, gazing at the vast, snow-covered plains, the withered grass weighed down by icicles. Gradually, she remembered—this was when she was twelve.
That year, she had been at the border with her father when the Northern Di launched a surprise attack. She had been playing outside the city, and by the time she tried to return, chaos had erupted. When her father’s troops retreated, she was left stranded, unsure where to go.
So she ran toward the distant woods, seeking shelter. The sounds of battle—clashing weapons, distant hoofbeats—filled the air, and her heart pounded with panic, lost in the vast uncertainty.
And then, a young man with a golden crown tying back his hair, clad in red robes and a white fur cloak, galloped toward her on horseback before abruptly stopping in front of her.
"Why are you still here?" he asked urgently.
She looked up and saw him—his face as flawless as jade, his eyes cold as winter snow, a sword hanging at his waist, his beauty striking and effortless.
He reached out a hand and urged, "Come on, I’ll take you with me."
After a moment’s hesitation, she placed her hand in his. He pulled her onto the horse, held her close, and raced toward the battlefield.
That was twelve-year-old Chu Yu and fourteen-year-old Gu Chusheng.
Love never blossoms without reason. Looking back, Chu Yu realized that the moment she first knew she loved Gu Chusheng was right then.
She had fallen for the boy who reached out to her in that instant—and for that single moment, she had spent a lifetime in despair.So when she realized where she was, her breathing became rapid, and she began to run desperately.
She wanted to leave this place. She never wanted to meet Gu Chusheng again, nor did she want to relive the life of her past. She didn’t want to hear even a single word that echoed her previous existence.
In her dream, she ran and fled with all her might, yet the sound of galloping hooves still pursued her.
"Get up here, I'll take you away."
"Get up here, I'll take you away."
The voice of a young man chased after her like a haunting specter, clinging relentlessly.
Chu Yu ran forward desperately, but she couldn’t escape—no matter how hard she tried.
Gasping for breath, she ran until she was nearly hopeless, feeling as if floodwaters were rising around her. She struggled fiercely in the water, but no one came to save her. Vaguely, she seemed to grasp onto something, and she clung to it with all her strength. Water, like tears, poured into her nose and mouth, threatening to drown her completely. Just as she was about to give up, she heard a voice calling out—"Sister-in-law."
It was Wei Yun’s voice.
He had heard Chu Yu sleeping restlessly and couldn’t rest easy. Coincidentally, Changyue had stepped out to fetch medicine when Chu Yu suddenly cried out, "Save me!" Unable to hold back any longer, Wei Yun pushed his wheelchair forward, lifted the curtain, and entered, stopping beside her.
As soon as he reached her, he raised his hand to check if her fever had subsided, only for her to suddenly seize his sleeve. She gripped it tightly, as if it were her only lifeline.
"Save me..."
Her voice trembled as she repeated, "Save me..."
Wei Yun frowned and spoke softly, "Sister-in-law."
Chu Yu was trapped in her nightmare, her words muddled. Wei Yun faintly caught a name—Chusheng?
Her cries were indistinct, and Wei Yun couldn’t make it out clearly. All he saw was the young girl with tightly shut eyes, clutching his sleeve as if terrified.
Stripped of her usual composed demeanor, Chu Yu now looked every bit like the fifteen-year-old girl she was.
Wei Yun replaced the damp cloth on her forehead, his gaze lingering on her trembling lashes.
She was beautiful, though at fifteen, she hadn’t fully matured. Her usual air of maturity had been largely due to her makeup. Now, without it, her youthful innocence was plain to see.
Her skin was pale, like fine porcelain or flawless jade, now flushed with fever and damp with sweat. Wei Yun frowned, helpless as he watched her struggle in the nightmare, and could only call out to her repeatedly, "Sister-in-law, wake up."
His voice seemed to traverse mountains and seas, like the chants of a Buddha guiding lost souls across the River of Forgetfulness.
Chu Yu listened to his calls, and gradually, a sense of calm settled over her, as though she had found some inner strength.
His voice was like a guiding light. She followed it slowly until she saw a faint glow.
When she opened her eyes, she saw the young man sitting beside her, his robe edged with golden Cloud Patterns, his long hair tied back with a ribbon. His brows, furrowed with worry, relaxed into a smile as he saw her awaken. "Sister-in-law, you're awake."
Chu Yu stared at the young man before her, momentarily unable to recognize who he was.
After a dazed moment, she finally realized, "It's Xiao Qi..."
As she spoke, Changyue entered with the medicine, overjoyed to see Chu Yu awake. "Young Madam, you're awake!"
Chu Yu nodded and raised her hand, allowing Changyue to help her sit up.She felt a bit feverish. Wei Yun handed her some water, and after taking a few sips, she looked up at the sky. "What time is it?"
"It's mao hour."
Changyue took the cup from Chu Yu, who nodded and turned her gaze to Wei Yun. "Why are you keeping watch here?"
"Xiao Qi is uneasy seeing sister-in-law ill."
Wei Yun spoke respectfully, but Chu Yu glanced at him and said bluntly, "Is it unease or insomnia?"
"Both."
In front of Chu Yu, Wei Yun didn't conceal anything. "I couldn't sleep anyway, so I came to keep watch."
Chu Yu gave a faint acknowledgment. Through this exchange with Wei Yun, she gradually emerged from her dreamlike state and lost all drowsiness. Leaning lazily against the bed, she asked, "Why couldn't you sleep?"
"I keep dreaming."
"Hmm?" Chu Yu raised her eyes. Wei Yun lowered his gaze to the patterns on his clothes. "I keep dreaming of when my elder brother and father were still here."
The sweeter the dream, the crueler the awakening.
Chu Yu remained silent for a moment before changing the subject. "You've seen His Majesty, haven't you?"
"Yes."
"Did he say anything?"
"His Majesty told me to understand his difficulties."
Hearing this, Chu Yu scoffed lightly and lazily looked at him. "How did you reply?"
No matter the response, it must have pleased His Majesty—otherwise, Wei Yun wouldn't be here now.
Though Chu Yu had step by step led the emperor to believe in the Wei family's unwavering loyalty, the emperor had still wronged them. Had Wei Yun shown any dissatisfaction, he might not have been here at all. Uprooting threats was second nature to an emperor.
"I told him I don’t understand many things, but I know I am of the Wei family."
The answer amused Chu Yu. She bent her legs, resting her hands on her knees, and smiled. "What do you mean by that? The Wei family's creed is to protect the nation and the ruler, unwavering even unto death. Are you pledging loyalty?"
"No," Wei Yun chuckled softly. "I mean, as a member of the Wei family, I will reclaim every debt owed to us, one by one."
Chu Yu tilted her head slightly, smiling as she watched him.
She wasn’t surprised by Wei Yun’s mindset. In her past life, he had always been one to settle scores and repay grievances. He wouldn’t suddenly become a paragon of loyalty in this lifetime.
"The Wei family protects the nation and its people," Wei Yun said calmly. "Not a surname or an individual."
"Telling me all this," Chu Yu asked, though she already knew the answer, "aren’t you afraid I might reveal it?"
If these words were spoken aloud, Wei Yun wouldn’t live to see another sunrise.
Yet Wei Yun lifted his gaze to meet Chu Yu’s, his expression serene. "If sister-in-law had any intention of harming me, why go through such lengths to rescue me from the heavenly prison?"
Chu Yu held his gaze.
After weathering so many storms, watching this young man transform from a carefree youth into the composed and steady man before her, much about him had changed—except for those eyes, as clear and bright as ever.
The future Northern Garrison Marquis had eyes sharp enough to pierce the soul, deep as a cold pool. She had never looked closely before, but now she wondered—had she examined them back then, would she have seen the same clarity and purity, shimmering like water, that she saw in this young man’s eyes now?
She had often asked herself: why had she gone to such lengths for the Wei family?Yet as she met Wei Yun's gaze, she gradually understood—it wasn't for the Wei family, but for these eyes.
She adored such clear, limpid eyes and wished all who possessed such a gaze could live peaceful lives.
Heroes deserve their companions. Having nowhere else to go, she might as well stay by his side.
Thus she smiled softly.
"Indeed," she sighed gently, "As the young mistress of Wei Manor, how could I ever harm you?"
Hearing this sigh, Wei Yun pursed his lips and hesitantly asked, "Then... what are your plans?"
"What plans do you mean?"
Chu Yu found it rather odd. Wei Yun continued, "Today, members of the Yao and Xie families came to see Fourth Sister-in-law and Fifth Sister-in-law. I believe they must have their own plans. Soon, the Chu family will likely send someone as well. Now that I’ve been released, I wonder what plans Sister-in-law has next?"
Hearing this, Chu Yu couldn’t help but laugh.
"You just shared such important words with me, and now you ask about my plans? Do you truly think I might marry someone else, yet still confide in me like this?"
"Wei Yun," Chu Yu’s eyes were full of understanding, "Tell me, are you being too hypocritical or too naive?"
Wei Yun fell silent. Being seen through made him uncomfortable. He pressed his lips together, saying nothing. Chu Yu reclined against the headboard, watching him with amusement. The thought that she was teasing the future "Living Yama," the King Who Pacifies the North, gave her a peculiar sense of satisfaction.
She smiled, leaning slightly closer to him, teasing, "How about this? You decide whether I stay or go. If you say leave, I’ll return to the Chu family tomorrow. If you say stay, I’ll remain. What does the Seventh Young Master think?"
Wei Yun’s lips pressed tighter, his silence deepening. Chu Yu studied his expression, trying to discern his thoughts, but his face remained composed, revealing nothing.
When he still didn’t answer after a long while, Chu Yu waved her hand in front of his eyes. "Wei Yun?"
Wei Yun looked up at her.
His gaze was earnest and resolute. "Logically, I hope Sister-in-law leaves. You’re still young—remarrying wouldn’t be difficult. You and Eldest Brother barely knew each other; there was no deep bond between you. You’ve stayed this long only out of your chivalrous heart. Now that I’m safely out of prison, you can rest easy. By all accounts, there’s no reason for you to stay. Leaving would be best for you."
Chu Yu propped her chin on her hand, replying lightly, "But?"
"Emotionally, I hope Sister-in-law stays."
He looked at her, as if he had deliberated for a long time, his expression sincere. "I want you to remain with the Wei family."
"Reason?"
Wei Yun didn’t answer. He wasn’t good at lying, yet the truth was something he couldn’t bring himself to voice.
He feared a Wei family without Chu Yu.
If she weren’t here—if the one person who could still smile when the entire household was weeping was gone—the mere thought of such a scene terrified him.
A path without Chu Yu wasn’t impossible to walk, but it would feel unbearably dark and arduous.
And if he had never known the comfort of companionship, perhaps he could have trudged forward numbly. But now that he had tasted it, returning to where he was supposed to be felt especially cruel.
Yet he didn’t dare voice this dependence. It made him feel like a child clinging to an adult for candy—utterly pathetic.
Wei Yun remained silent, and Chu Yu didn’t press him. She watched the tension in the young man’s expression before finally letting out a soft laugh.
"Ah-Yun, you’re still just a child."
Her gaze was gentle as she looked at him. Wei Yun lifted his head in confusion, meeting her warm eyes."Occasional weakness is nothing to be ashamed of. I will stay with the Wei family and help you rebuild the Zhenguo Marquis residence. I don't know how long I can stay—perhaps one day I'll find new meaning in life, or meet someone I love. But until then, I'll be by your side, waiting for you to grow up."
"You will become a great man, a general remembered in history," she said, lifting her pale hand to rest on Wei Yun's head. "And I hope I can do my part—for you, for the Wei family."
Author's Note: There will be a second update today, but it might be late, so everyone should go to sleep first.
Also, the romantic development between the male and female leads isn't forced. I hope readers can forget the synopsis while reading and not assume they must end up together. Otherwise, when their relationship hasn't reached that stage yet, you might mistake their bond for romance and feel awkward about it.
Their relationship evolves from mutual support to something deeper. If it turned into love without going through shared experiences, the gap in between would make their feelings seem... how should I put it... somewhat cheap. So before the characters grow and go through those experiences, let their emotions develop naturally with the story.
Right now, they're just friends and family. The female lead sees the male lead as a heroic junior—with compassion, responsibility, and admiration for a hero. The male lead sees her as an elder figure and depends on her, but this isn't love.
It's a supportive, familial bond. Don't mistake it for romance now, or it'll feel very awkward.
When the characters naturally develop to a point where you instinctively feel, "This should be love"—that's when it becomes love. Please don't let the synopsis influence your perception prematurely.
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