Fight For Love

There are times when, despite knowing certain words are deceitful, one still can't help but say them.

People can disguise their emotions, masking sorrow as joy, but it's far harder to control those emotions and turn sorrow into genuine happiness.

Like is like, and joy is joy.

Yet when Chu Yu handed him the flowers, he still felt that he would do his utmost to fulfill whatever she asked of him.

Watching Wei Yun accept the flowers, Chu Yu felt a deep tenderness in her heart, her voice softening noticeably. "Don't worry," she said, "I and your sisters-in-law will accompany you to bury your father and brothers."

Wei Yun lowered his gaze and nodded.

After the burial date was set, Liu Xueyang arrived home the next day. The elderly madam, due to her difficulty walking and unwillingness to outlive her descendants, did not return with Liu Xueyang.

That night, Wei Manor was once again filled with weeping. Amidst the cries, Chu Yu tossed and turned, unable to sleep.

After what felt like an eternity, the sounds finally ceased. Chu Yu exhaled in relief and closed her eyes.

When she awoke the next morning and went to the ancestral hall, she found Wei Yun already there.

Liu Xueyang, having wept all night, was visibly exhausted. Wei Yun stayed by her side, offering gentle comfort. Nearby, Zhang Han and Wang Lan stood with reddened eyes, clearly having cried for a long time as well. The two had always been close to Liu Xueyang and were most obedient to her. Now that their mother-in-law had returned weeping through the night, they naturally followed suit.

Seeing them in such a state gave Chu Yu a headache. She stepped forward to support Liu Xueyang, calling for a physician. "Mother," she urged, "are you alright?"

"A Yu..." Liu Xueyang leaned on Chu Yu, wiping her tears as she stood. "They're all gone, leaving us widows and orphans. What are we to do now?"

"Life must go on," Chu Yu said, guiding Liu Xueyang to sit and having someone bring a damp cloth to wipe her face. "There are still five young masters who need your care. The road ahead is long—you must take care of yourself and not add to Xiao Qi's burdens."

Hearing this, Wei Yun glanced at her and sighed in relief.

He had been listening to Liu Xueyang's weeping all night. At first, she, Zhang Han, and Wang Lan had clung to each other, wailing so loudly it echoed through the courtyard. Only after he came to console them did they calm slightly. Now that Chu Yu had arrived, Wei Yun unconsciously relaxed, his heart settling.

He didn't notice this growing dependence, nor did he find anything amiss about it.

After the women had composed themselves for a while, the steward found Wei Yun to arrange the day's schedule. Wei Yun nodded and gave his instructions. When the hour calculated by the diviner arrived, he had Chu Yu lead the others to kneel before the main gate.

Wei Manor had not announced the funeral to outsiders, yet when Chu Yu stepped out, she saw many people gathered outside.

Closest to the gate were the officials who usually interacted with the Wei family. Further back stood commoners who had come upon hearing the news. For four generations, the Wei family had not only fought on the frontiers but also been generous in charity, saving countless lives in the capital.

Chu Yu scanned the crowd and spotted the figures at the forefront—Grand Tutor Xie, The Eldest Princess, Chu Jianchang...

Among them stood a middle-aged man in white robes, holding a folding fan, silently watching the funeral procession.Chu Yu recognized the newcomer at a glance.

It was Emperor Chunde.

Yet she did not linger, acting as though she did not recognize the sovereign standing there. Instead, she folded her hands before her and bowed slightly in that direction before turning to face the commoners and bowing again.

From within the gates, the young madams of the household emerged one after another, each leading a young master by the hand, and took their places beside Chu Yu and Liu Xueyang. Servants placed kneeling mats beneath the members of the Wei family. Chu Yu and Liu Xueyang, along with the young madams, stood on either side. Then came the ceremonial call:

"Kneel—"

At this command, the Wei family knelt reverently, while the officials standing on either side of Wei Manor’s gates lowered their heads. Someone—no one knew who—began the motion, and soon, the commoners behind the officials knelt as well. In an instant, the entire street was filled with kneeling figures.

"Open the gates to welcome the coffins—"

Another call rang out, and the gates of Wei Manor creaked open, revealing the sight within.

Wei Yun stood before the coffins, clad in mourning white, his hair tied high with a white ribbon. Behind him, seven coffins were arranged in four rows. Alone before them, his posture was straight and unyielding—though still a youth, he seemed capable of holding up the heavens.

"Recite the eulogy for the honored dead, recounting their lives in words—"

The ritual officer called out once more. Wei Yun unfurled the scroll in his hands, lowered his gaze, and began to recite the eulogy he had spent days composing.

His voice was steady, carrying the timbre between youth and manhood, yet so composed and firm that no one dared dismiss him as merely a boy.

His words were not particularly eloquent, merely a quiet recounting of the lives of the seven men behind him.

His father. His eldest brother. His other brothers.

These seven were born in a family that guarded the nation and died in a war defending it.

Even if they had been branded with disgrace, in the eyes of the clear-sighted, their purity remained undeniable.

As he recounted their lives, simply narrating the battles they had fought, soft sobs began to rise around him. Then, as he spoke of their daily lives, the weeping spread further.

"On the twenty-seventh day of the seventh month, my eldest brother was wed, yet news of the border’s peril arrived. Our family rushed to the frontier, fighting tirelessly for seven days until the enemy was repelled. That night, we drank beneath the city walls, my brothers and I, gazing at the stars in drunken revelry."

"I was young then, ignorant of life’s meaning, so I asked my brothers—what was their greatest wish?"

"My eldest brother answered: 'A peaceful world, a land of clarity.'"

"The others echoed his words. I asked again: 'If peace were achieved, what would you do?'"

"My brothers laughed and replied: 'In spring, we’d watch the willows by the river. In winter, we’d wait for snow to crown our heads. With friends, we’d share three cups of wine and lie drunk in the spring breeze. On the battlefield, we’d face life and death. In Hua Jing, we’d be the most carefree. Just ordinary men, content with the warmth of a home’s lamplight in wind and rain—that would be enough.'"

The warmth of a home’s lamplight in wind and rain—that would be enough.

At these words, the young madams could no longer hold back. Their restrained, quiet sorrow erupted in an instant, mingling with the cries of the commoners until the entire street was drowned in weeping.

Chu Yu knelt numbly on the ground, her mind inexplicably recalling the day of her wedding—those unrestrained, spirited young men of the Wei family.

On the battlefield, we’d face life and death. In Hua Jing, we’d be the most carefree.

Trembling, Chu Yu closed her eyes. In the midst of such emotion, she felt something wet at the corners of her eyes.When Wei Yun finished reading the eulogy, his voice had grown hoarse. Yet he did not cry. He placed the eulogy into the Fire Basin, and as it burned, he raised his hand and shouted loudly, "Raise the coffins—!"

His voice boomed as if on a battlefield, like a general's rallying cry: "Fight!"

As the coffins lifted from the ground, they creaked and groaned. Wei Yun held the eternal lamp and led the procession of coffins out through the gates of the Wei family.

Then Chu Yu stood up, supporting Liu Xueyang, who was weeping uncontrollably, and together with the other young mistresses and young masters, they followed behind the coffins.

Behind them came the Wei family's private soldiers and servants, forming a long procession that nearly filled the entire street.

Wherever they passed, there were cries, shouts, and the clamor of voices, some scattered calls of "General Wei."

Who they were calling "General Wei," no one knew. For in those coffins lay none other than the Generals Wei.

White funeral money fluttered through the air like snow. Officials automatically joined the long procession, and the common people followed behind.

They left Hua Jing, climbed over the high mountains, and arrived at the Wei family cemetery.

Wei Yun's leg injury had not yet healed, and the climb aggravated the pain, yet his expression remained unchanged, as if nothing were wrong. He led everyone to the pre-dug graves and, following tradition, allowed the family to see their loved ones one last time before they were buried in the yellow earth.

That final glimpse was perhaps the cruelest moment. Yet throughout it all, Wei Yun remained calm and composed.

Everyone else was crying, wailing. But he stood there, unwavering, like an immovable pillar amidst the raging torrent, unshaken by the towering waves or the howling storm.

If you could no longer walk, you could lean on him to rest. If you didn't know where to go, you could look up and follow his direction.

He was the pillar of the Wei family, its backbone.

A light rain began to fall, and people moved about in the surroundings. Wei Yun stood numb, watching as his family members were lowered one by one into the earth.

Finally, it was Wei Jun's turn to be buried.

Chu Yu stood beside Wei Yun as Wei Jun's coffin was opened.

The body had been specially treated, and aside from a slightly pale complexion, he looked almost as if he were alive.

He lay in the coffin as if asleep, a faint smile lingering on his lips.

He had always been a gentle soul, instinctively smiling at all times, so even when he wasn't smiling, it seemed as though he was.

Chu Yu gazed quietly at him—this husband she had met only once.

The first time she saw him, she had promised him a lifetime.

The second time she saw him, his lifetime had already ended.

She looked at him for a long time, wanting to remember him. This young man was plain and unremarkable, with nothing particularly striking about him. She feared that with the passage of time, she might forget him.

He had been betrothed to her at the age of nine, and for the sake of that promise, he had waited for her to come of age, waited for her to grow up. All the other young masters of the Wei family had someone to remember them in love. He should not be without.

She may not have loved him, but she would not neglect her duty as his wife. So her eyes lingered on his face, unwilling to look away. After a long while, Wei Yun could bear it no longer and spoke hoarsely, "Sister-in-law, it's time to close the coffin."

Chu Yu snapped out of her thoughts and nodded, her expression dazed. It took her a while to respond before she finally said softly, "Alright."Wei Yun instructed the preparation of the coffins. He and Chu Yu were the only ones in the entire scene who could still maintain their composure. They calmly saw those people off, and once everything had settled, they led the weeping crowd down the mountain.

By the time they reached the foot of the mountain, the crying had gradually subsided. When they arrived at the doorstep, the sobs finally ceased completely.

No one's tears would linger for another forever—all wounds would eventually heal.

Those who wailed and cried out loud were like wounds exposed to the sunlight—they appeared ghastly and messy, yet they also healed the fastest and most straightforwardly. The hardest were the wounds licked in the shadows, hidden away, festering silently in the dark, swelling repeatedly with pus, with no end in sight.

By the time they returned home, it was already night. The crowd dispersed, leaving only the Wei family to return to their residence.

Everyone was exhausted. Chu Yu had the kitchen prepare supper and gathered the entire household in the dining hall for the meal.

With so many suddenly gone, the dining hall felt unusually empty. Chu Yu left seats for the departed. Once the banquet began, she poured wine for everyone.

"This is the Daughter's Red my father buried for me—fifteen years aged now."

Chu Yu stood up to pour the wine, smiling as she spoke. "When I was born, my father buried many jars, all drunk on my wedding day. Only the two finest were left behind, and today, I offer them to you."

With that, she returned to her seat and raised her cup. "Tonight, we drink deeply. After this night, the past is the past."

You and I—each to our own paths.

She left the last words unspoken, but the young mistresses present understood.

No one spoke. After a moment, it was Yao Jue who suddenly stood up and shouted, "Drink! Once we're done, tomorrow is tomorrow!"

With that, Yao Jue raised her cup, tilted her head back, and downed it in one gulp, exclaiming, "Fine wine!"

Once Yao Jue broke the ice, the atmosphere lightened. Everyone ate and joked as if it were just another ordinary family banquet after their husbands had gone off to war—pushing and teasing one another.

Wang Lan, being pregnant, couldn't drink and simply watched with a smile. Yao Jue seemed the boldest, but her alcohol tolerance was the weakest. Before long, she was drunk and pulling everyone into drinking games. Zhang Han was dragged into it, and the two of them ended up drunk together, babbling nonsense.

"Our fourth young master—don't let his missing finger fool you—he's incredible! A coin-sized hole, and from a hundred paces away, he could nail the coin to a tree!"

"Fourth young master... pfft," Zhang Han hiccuped, her words slurred. "My husband—now he was something. The first time I saw him, during the Lantern Festival, someone harassed me. He only had a folding fan in his hand, and with a few swift moves—" Zhang Han waved her hands in the air, muttering, "—he sent a dozen armed men splashing into the lake."

Jiang Chun, who had also been drinking, grew unhappy hearing them praise their husbands and quickly joined in, boasting about her own. "Our second young master, ah..."

Chu Yu and Xie Jiu, both with high alcohol tolerance, listened quietly from the side.

In certain matters, Xie Jiu and Chu Yu shared an innate similarity. For instance, when it came to drinking, both of them sipped slowly. The moment they sensed the slightest hint of intoxication, they would pause, rest for a while, and then continue.

Composed and calm—never allowing even a hint of impropriety.Yet on this night, as they elegantly sipped their wine, they lost that control. Xie Jiu's face was tinged with red as she turned to look at Chu Yu, smiling faintly. "Sometimes I think we're the same kind of people, but later I realize—you and I are not the same."

"You," she raised her hand, her jade-like fingertip pointing at Chu Yu's chest, "your heart is still warm, still like a child's."

Chu Yu chuckled lightly but countered, "And you think you're not?"

Xie Jiu didn’t answer. She suddenly turned to the maid behind her and said, "Bring the qin!"

"A Ya used to love listening to me play the qin. Don’t let his upbringing in the Wei family, a military household, fool you—he was more refined than any nobleman’s son."

As she spoke, she saw the maid bringing the qin over. Straightening up, she said, "Now, let me play for him one more time."

With that, she walked to the center, took the qin from the maid, sat on the floor, and gently plucked the strings, beginning to play.

It was a soft, gentle melody, its origin unclear, flowing as quietly as the moonlight.

"Beacons blaze across the land, the general wields his blade, I hold apricot blossom wine, seeing you off at the bridge..."

"Spring warms in the third moon, flowers adorn the city gates, ask the returning traveler, if the general’s name is known..."

Chu Yu watched Xie Jiu quietly. As the music began, the others fell silent, and soon, everyone joined in singing.

They were all in the prime of their youth. Watching them sing this tune, Chu Yu suddenly felt a heaviness in her chest. Holding her wine, she stepped outside and saw Wei Yun sitting on the long corridor, gazing silently at the moon.

The alcohol made her feel restless. She walked over to Wei Yun and sat down. "Why hasn’t Xiao Qi gone to sleep?"

Wei Yun had endured the day with his injuries and was long past exhaustion, so Chu Yu had urged him to rest early. Yet here he was, still sitting outside.

A light rain had fallen in the afternoon, but the night was clear, the bright moon hanging high, the air thick with the dampness of rain and the freshness of earth.

Wei Yun kept his eyes on the moon. "I used to hear these tunes often."

Chu Yu said nothing, and Wei Yun continued, "I loved them back then. Every time I listened, I felt like all my efforts had meaning. I didn’t have the grand ambitions of my brothers. I just thought—the reason I wielded my long spear on the battlefield was for the sake of these people at home. I wanted to see them happy like this every day, singing and dancing, debating which rouge looked better."

"But I don’t know what’s wrong today," Wei Yun smiled bitterly. "Listening to these songs now, I feel..."

He trailed off, searching for words. Chu Yu took a sip of wine and said slowly, "Feel what?"

"That in the end... I failed to protect them."

Wei Yun turned to Chu Yu. "Sister-in-law, am I too useless?"

Hearing this, Chu Yu tilted her head back and drained her wine bowl in one gulp. Then she stood, pulled the plain white ribbon from her hair, letting it cascade down, before tying it all back with the ribbon. She walked to the weapon rack in the courtyard.

With a swift motion, she took the long spear from the rack and ran her hand along its length.

"When I was little, my mother always wanted me to learn dancing, playing the qin, writing, and singing those delicate southern tunes, just like my sister. But I never liked any of it. I was no good at anything—except for this long spear in my hands."With that, Chu Yu gave a flick of her long spear, holding it with one hand pointed to the ground while the other rested behind her back. She slowly raised her head, her gaze settling on Wei Yun. "Nothing else to please you, only this dance for you."

As her voice faded, the spear suddenly thrust forward, carving a beautiful arc through the air.

Inside, the soft singing of a woman echoed; outside, the sharp whistle of the spear cleaved the night.

The moonlight bathed her plain white figure, blending with the gentle melody. For a moment, Wei Yun felt as if he were standing before a beautiful dream.

In this dream, the girl was resilient and formidable, her spear moving like a dragon, its gleam no less fierce than that of any young hero of the time.

Maple leaves drifted down slowly with her movements, the only warm hue under the moonlight. The fourteen-year-old Wei Yun stared at Chu Yu, unblinking.

He had never seen such beauty before—not the kind of mere scenery, but one that carried a silent strength, like a pair of hands steadying him as he teetered on the edge. His gaze remained fixed on the girl as he listened to the song behind him.

"Spring gazes at the willows by the river, winter waits for snow to crown the head. Three cups of wine with friends, drunk and lying in the spring breeze tower. Life and death on the battlefield, Hua Jing's most gallant..."

The woman's eyes sparkled with bright laughter as her spear sliced through the darkness, gleaming.

Finally, as the music faded, she flipped midair, the spear plunging into the ground. She knelt on one knee before him, lifting her head.

Her bright eyes, filled with a smile under the moonlight, radiated a boldness no less than any man's.

Life and death on the battlefield, Hua Jing's most gallant.

How could such poetry belong only to the men of the Wei family? Could this girl before him not be the most gallant of all?

Wei Yun watched her as she spoke with a smile, "Wei Yun, I don’t need your protection. None of us do."

"Just be yourself—that’s enough. I’m here," her voice grew even gentler, "always here."

Wei Yun said nothing. He looked at the girl kneeling before him, spear in hand, her jade-like face breaking into a smile.

"Last time, you gave me a flower, asking me to be happier. This time, you’ve given me this dance. What should I give you in return?"

Surprised by his words, Chu Yu raised an eyebrow. "What can you give?"

Wei Yun fell silent. In that instant, a thought flashed through his mind.

To witness such a dance, I’d gladly die before you.

The words lingered on his lips, unspoken. He simply gazed at her silently before finally smiling.

"I’m happy," he said earnestly. "With you here, Sister-in-law, I truly am happy."

The moonlight was bright. Chu Yu tilted her head slightly, her childlike, clear smile resting on him.

That night, they reveled late before finally retiring.

It was as if all emotions—love and pain alike—had poured out with the song and the night. Everyone knew life must move forward.

After a night of deep sleep, Chu Yu woke at noon the next day. Once she had freshened up, Xie Jiu soon arrived, having sent word ahead.

Chu Yu was eating when Xie Jiu entered, prompting her surprise. "Why so early?"

"It’s about time," Xie Jiu replied with a faint, bitter smile, though her resolve was firm as she stepped inside. "I’ve come to ask for your help.""Go ahead," Chu Yu said, reading her expression and roughly guessing her purpose. In truth, she had been waiting for this for a long time. That Xie Jiu had held out this long was actually beyond her expectations. So she didn't refuse, motioning for Xie Jiu to sit down.

Xie Jiu settled into her seat, took a sip of tea, hesitated for a moment, and finally pursed her lips before speaking. "Now that Fifth Brother has been laid to rest..."

She lowered her eyes, gripping her clothes tightly. "With Xiao Qi back and Wei Manor stabilized, I came to you... to ask for your help in requesting a Divorce Letter from Xiao Qi and Mother-in-law."

"Why not go yourself?" Chu Yu was puzzled. Xie Jiu gave a bitter smile. "Compared to facing Xiao Qi, I'd much rather say these words to you."

Chu Yu understood Xie Jiu's predicament. The world was harsh on women—without marrying into a powerful family, even returning to one's parents' home could mean enduring bullying. Women like Xie Jiu, who had spent their lives mastering the art of calculation, had already given much by serving the Wei family to this extent.

Chu Yu remained composed and nodded reassuringly. "This is for the best. You're still young, and with your talents and beauty, remarrying won't be difficult."

The customs of Great Chu were relatively open, valuing women's talents and appearance. While remarriage wasn't as esteemed as the first, it wasn't overly stigmatized either. Xie Jiu stayed silent, and seeing this, Chu Yu thought for a moment before asking, "Is there anything else you'd like me to do?"

"You... are truly set on staying with the Wei family?" Xie Jiu hesitated. "You're only fifteen..."

"You said it yourself—I'm only fifteen," Chu Yu chuckled, her gaze drifting to the tea leaves floating in her cup. "I don't have anyone I fancy right now, and I don't know what I'd do if I returned home. Staying at Wei Manor seems better. My situation is different from yours—my parents aren't forcing me, and I don't particularly want to marry." Her eyes softened. "It's not about virtue, just a different choice."

Xie Jiu sighed at this. "It might sound shameful, but if you stay at Wei Manor, could you... look after Linghan for me?"

Wei Linghan was Xie Jiu's child, now only three years old. Chu Yu quickly nodded. "You needn't worry about that. I planned to stay partly to care for the young master. Even if you leave, your child remains here—this will always be half your home." She smiled at Xie Jiu. "You can visit me and Linghan often."

Hearing this, the heavy weight in Xie Jiu's heart lifted, replaced by overwhelming gratitude. For a moment, she was at a loss for words. Just as she opened her mouth to speak, Chu Yu blinked and playfully interrupted, "But let me be clear—this comes with a price."

"What price?"

Xie Jiu could tell Chu Yu was teasing. After a moment's thought, Chu Yu said, "Fourth Young Madam plays the qin beautifully. When you have time, come play a tune for me as payment."

"Alright," Xie Jiu agreed with a nod. "I'll come without fail."

Seeing Xie Jiu relax, Chu Yu leaned back in her chair. "So it's just you this time? Who else wants the Divorce Letter?"

"Aside from Jiang Chun, everyone asked me to relay their request to Xiao Qi through you."

Chu Yu nodded and asked further, "What about Wang Lan's child?"

"She'll stay until the child turns two before leaving the manor."

The answer seemed premeditated. Xie Jiu explained, "She just finds it awkward to request the Divorce Letter alone later, so she wants to do it with us now."Chu Yu responded. Wang Lan had always been indecisive, so it was indeed unlikely she would have the initiative to ask Wei Yun for the Divorce Letter alone.

After discussing the matter of staying or leaving with Xie Jiu for a while longer, Xie Jiu took her leave to prepare for packing her belongings.

Before leaving, Xie Jiu suddenly remembered something and said to Chu Yu, "By the way, did you know your younger sister is discussing marriage arrangements with Song Shizi?"

Hearing this, Chu Yu was momentarily stunned before nodding. "I know now."

Though she knew, she didn’t dwell on it. Whatever Chu Jin did seemed to have little to do with her anymore.

Seeing her lack of reaction, Xie Jiu understood that Chu Jin likely held little significance to Chu Yu and turned to leave.

As Xie Jiu walked out, her posture seemed slightly hunched, as if she had aged suddenly. Chu Yu silently watched her retreating figure without a word.

When it came to feelings toward the Wei family, she could never compare to these young madams. They had genuinely loved their husbands, but for Chu Yu, her connection to Wei Manor was perhaps more about reverence and duty. So while they needed time to heal their wounds after leaving, Chu Yu could adjust herself overnight after a bout of drinking and prepare for the long road ahead.

Chu Yu closed her eyes and steadied her mind.

Burying the seven deceased members of the Wei family was only the beginning of Wei Yun’s resurgence. The path ahead would only grow more difficult, and she had to support him through it.

After resting briefly, Chu Yu sent someone to inform Liu Xueyang and Wei Yun before going to Liu Xueyang’s quarters to meet them.

When Chu Yu arrived, Wei Yun was already there. Liu Xueyang’s expression was somber—losing her husband and sons had been a devastating blow. Seeing Chu Yu enter, she asked listlessly, "Is there something you need?"

Chu Yu relayed Xie Jiu’s request in detail. Upon hearing it, Liu Xueyang began to weep. Wei Yun listened quietly without comment. Once Chu Yu finished, Liu Xueyang finally said, "They… they…"

She didn’t know whom to blame and, after struggling for words, could only sigh, "At least Jun’er married you."

"The other young madams aren’t that young anymore, unlike me. If they stay in the Wei family for a few more years, their future paths will only become harder," Chu Yu reasoned. "Mother, put yourself in their shoes—what would you do?"

Struck by this, Liu Xueyang paused before sighing. "Of course I understand. But when I think of them as children of Wei Manor, my heart…"

She waved a hand. "Never mind. If they want it, let them have it. Forcing them to stay would only harm them, and it wouldn’t do much for Wei Manor either. Let it be."

As she spoke, she called for someone to bring writing materials and instructed Wei Yun to draft the Divorce Letters. Once he finished, Liu Xueyang suddenly remembered and turned to Chu Yu. "They’ve all made plans for themselves—what about you, A Yu?"

"I’m still young," Chu Yu smiled. "I don’t have any plans yet. For now, I’ll help my brother-in-law rebuild Wei Manor and raise the five young masters. Mother’s health isn’t good, so the household needs a few people to stay."

"You…" Liu Xueyang hesitated, wanting to say more but ultimately only replied, "Don’t worry. Our Wei Manor will never let you suffer for it."Chu Yu nodded, took the Divorce Letter from Wei Yun's hands, reviewed it carefully, and then said to Liu Xueyang and Wei Yun, "Then I'll go deliver these now."

Liu Xueyang nodded, her expression weary.

Only after Chu Yu had gone far did Liu Xueyang sigh: "This A Yu... she's truly a foolish child. She's fifteen now, and if she stays to help you rebuild the marquisate, she'll be at least twenty by then. How could finding a husband then be as easy as it is now?"

Wei Yun remained silent as he helped Liu Xueyang to her bed.

Liu Xueyang's health had never been robust, and this ordeal had left her even weaker. Sitting on the bed, she said to Wei Yun, "Your sister-in-law's devotion is rare. You must remember this well—she didn't have to stay, yet she chose to. This is a kindness."

"I understand."

Wei Yun nodded, his eyes showing no trace of perfunctoriness. "I hold sister-in-law's goodness in my heart."

"She doesn't plan for herself, but we must plan for her. To lose her husband right after marriage—her life has been full of hardships. In the future, you must take good care of her and never show her disrespect."

"I know, Mother."

"You have a wider circle of friends than us women. Once you restore the marquisate, keep an eye out for suitable young talents for your sister-in-law and second sister-in-law. Their family circumstances don't matter—our Wei family can support them so they won't live poorly. What's important is their good character and ability to cherish others."

Hearing this, Wei Yun froze momentarily, not responding. Liu Xueyang waited a while, then turned back. "Xiao Qi?"

"Hmm?" Wei Yun snapped out of his daze and quickly replied, "I'll pay attention. If there are suitable matches in the future, I'll make arrangements for my sisters-in-law."

Liu Xueyang lay down and nodded, her eyes filled with worry. "What a pity about my Jun'er... If we're talking about men who cherish others, who could compare to the sons of Wei Manor? A Yu is such a fine girl... and A Chun... ah." She sighed repeatedly. "What a shame..."

Wei Yun stayed silent. Only after ensuring Liu Xueyang had fallen asleep did he leave.

Once outside, Wei Yun still seemed distracted. Wei Xia couldn't help asking, "What is Seventh Young Master thinking about?"

"Thinking," Wei Yun's gaze drifted into the distance, "what the Wei family would be like if sister-in-law and second sister-in-law left."

Wei Xia sighed. "We understand what you mean, Young Master. If the young madam and second young madam were to leave, the manor would indeed..."

He then added, "But we can't keep them in Wei Manor forever. The young madam and second young madam are still young, especially the young madam. To never experience love in this lifetime would be a regret."

"What nonsense are you spouting?" Wei Qiu glared at him. "Don't fill Seventh Young Master's head with such rubbish."

Wei Yun said nothing, but Wei Xia's words left him unsettled.

Jiang Chun at least had a child, but Chu Yu... she couldn't stay, and shouldn't stay.

Not only could he not keep her, he had to find ways to plan her future—to find a man worthy of her.

But now, as a remarried woman, even if the whole world knew she had never consummated her marriage, finding a man of matching character wouldn't be easy, would it?

He could only wait until he restored the Zhenguo Marquisate, and then perhaps use his influence to secure her a splendid future.Wei Yun's mind was a chaotic mess of thoughts, while Wei Qiu and Wei Xia argued behind him.

Wei Yun was still young, and the household hadn't assigned him dedicated attendants. Now that Wei Jun was gone, Wei Xia and Wei Qiu had simply stayed to serve Wei Yun.

Listening to Wei Xia bickering in the background, Wei Yun heard him say, "Wei Qiu, you blockhead! Don’t you think it’s cruel to make a young woman in the prime of her life stay a widow forever?"

"You—"

"Enough," Wei Yun finally felt he had figured out a solution and said calmly, "In the current situation, even if sister-in-law remarries, she’d only end up with some worthless men. Later, when I restore the Marquis’s household to its former glory, I’ll pick a good one for her."

"Once sister-in-law takes a liking to someone, I’ll make sure that man comes to propose."

"And if he doesn’t?" Wei Xia asked curiously.

At this, Wei Yun sneered. "Whether he wants the woman or his life—that’s his choice."

Hearing this, Wei Xia was convinced, thinking it an excellent plan.

Just as Wei Xia was about to say more, the steward hurried in from the corridor. He approached Wei Yun and lowered his voice. "Young Master, someone from the palace has arrived. His Majesty summons you to the palace."

At these words, a cold glint flashed in Wei Yun’s eyes. A moment later, he turned to Wei Qiu. "Fetch the wheelchair and bring me a fox-fur cloak and a hand warmer."

Wei Qiu acknowledged the order and left. Meanwhile, Wei Yun swiftly made his way to Chu Yu’s room and said coldly, "Sister-in-law, lend me some powder."

"What for?"

Chu Yu emerged from the inner chamber and tossed the powder to him. Wei Yun rushed to the mirror and began applying it to his face, explaining as he did so, "His Majesty has summoned me to the palace. It’s unlikely to be for anything good."

Hearing this, Chu Yu tensed, frowning. "If His Majesty orders you to the front lines, don’t impulsively agree—"

"I know." Before she could finish, Wei Yun had already finished applying the powder—though unevenly. Chu Yu sighed helplessly and stepped forward, smoothing it out for him with her fingers.

Her hands were warm, and when they touched his cold face, he instinctively wanted to pull back but forced himself to stay still. He held his breath as she evened out the powder.

Wei Yun’s complexion was naturally pale, and with the powder applied, he looked deathly white in the dim light. Wei Qiu returned with the wheelchair and the fox-fur cloak. Wei Yun loosened a few strands of hair to frame his face, draped the cloak over his shoulders, cradled the hand warmer, and settled into the wheelchair. In an instant, he transformed into a frail young master. With a few light coughs, he seemed on the verge of ascending to the heavens.

Watching Wei Yun’s acting skills, Chu Yu felt a mix of emotions. Seated in the wheelchair, hand warmer in hand, Wei Yun fully immersed himself in the role. He coughed weakly twice, then said in a feeble voice to Wei Qiu, "Let’s go."