Galloping on horseback—only by truly racing could one feel the sheer exhilaration.
Li Wei knew Wei Rao was no ordinary lady of the inner chambers. A woman who had been on the battlefield would only find true joy in a genuine contest.
Thus, once they passed the city gates and settled on the route for their race, Li Wei grasped the reins and said to Wei Rao, "When racing with Your Highness, I would like to propose a wager."
A gentle breeze, carrying the chill of winter, blew refreshingly against them.
Meeting Li Wei's spirited young face, Wei Rao smiled. "What wager does the Third Young Master have in mind?"
Li Wei looked into her eyes and said, "If I win, on the Lantern Festival, I wish to invite Your Highness to admire the lanterns with me."
He intended to pursue Wei Rao, to win her heart step by step, rather than proposing marriage outright—that would be far too dull.
Admiring the lanterns?
Wei Rao had already planned to accompany her daughter to see the lanterns. If Li Wei truly won, having one more person wouldn't be an issue. Even if Li Wei lost, if he happened to find them on the street and insisted on joining, the more the merrier—Wei Rao wouldn't drive him away.
"Agreed," Wei Rao replied amiably.
She did not propose what Li Wei should offer if she won.
Nor did Li Wei bring it up himself, for he had no intention of losing.
As the race began, Li Wei glanced at Wei Rao with a smile and spurred his horse forward.
Wei Rao set off almost simultaneously.
Both rode exceptional thousand-mile steeds—pure snow-white horses without a single blemish. They swept past like lightning, drawing the gazes of passersby.
It had been a long time since Wei Rao had raced anyone like this, at least not on such equal footing. The last time had been with Lu Zhuo.
Looking at Li Wei's white horse, Wei Rao seemed to see Flying Ink instead—Flying Ink, Flying Ink, a treasure of a steed as if painted by an immortal's splashed ink. If Lu Zhuo's handsomeness was unmatched among men, then Flying Ink was the king among horses. Though Wei Rao preferred white horses, she would have gladly traded countless white steeds for Flying Ink with Lu Zhuo.
When she first accompanied Lu Zhuo on a trip to Jin City, she had asked to borrow Flying Ink for a ride, but he had been too stingy to lend it to her.
He wouldn't lend it to her, yet at a critical moment of life and death, he had given Flying Ink to Lu Ya.
Wei Rao shook off the thought and realized Li Wei had already pulled ahead. She raised her whip and urged her horse to catch up.
Li Wei led the way, guiding Wei Rao toward Cloud Mist Mountain. He had heard that Wei Rao loved Cloud Mist Mountain.
Wei Rao was all too familiar with this road.
But the only one who had ever raced with her on this path was Lu Zhuo.
Back then, they were already truly husband and wife. On his days off, when staying in the Duke's Manor held little appeal, they would go out for a ride. At first, Lu Zhuo would race ahead, and Wei Rao, relying on her familiarity with the area, would take shortcuts through the fields. Lu Zhuo disdained such shortcuts, yet with Flying Ink's speed, he would still arrive at the foot of Cloud Mist Mountain at the same time as her.
Cloud Mist Mountain...
Wei Rao gazed into the distance at Cloud Mist Mountain.
After their separation, she had ignored Lu Zhuo, but he had actually moved to Cloud Mist Town. Wei Rao deliberately stopped going out, never expecting that on one early morning ride, she would see him at the foot of Cloud Mist Mountain. At the time, Wei Rao didn't believe it was a coincidence. After they remarried, she asked him about it, and Lu Zhuo admitted he went there every morning waiting for her, which led to that one "chance encounter."
And on the Double Ninth Festival, he had climbed to the mountaintop early, gambling on the possibility of running into her.He appeared in her thoughts, and the distant Cloud Mist Mountain seemed to transform into him—one moment gazing at her with a gentle, jade-like smile, the next with a complex expression as if holding back words. Then it was him in the snow, coldly offering her prey, or him appearing unnoticed to mock her when she subdued two assassins, saying her improper behavior had invited trouble...
In earlier years, Lu Zhuo had been thoroughly detestable in every way—mocking her for lacking grace, disparaging her mother’s remarriage, scolding her for changing clothes in the wilderness, or sneering at her for entering taverns with unrelated men.
Wei Rao remembered every single instance.
So utterly irritating—how had she ended up liking him later?
Was it because he was willing to humble himself repeatedly to please her, never angered even when she threw a teacup? Because he hurried to her grandmother’s melon field, leading oxen and pushing plows? Because when she told him to jump into the river to search for herbs, he spent half a day in the water? Or because he rode Flying Ink to catch up to her, all just to earn a smile?
Wei Rao reined in her horse and turned around.
She didn’t want to look at Cloud Mist Mountain anymore, at least not today.
Li Wei had already ridden far ahead. Glancing back, he saw Wei Rao had actually turned and was heading back, not galloping but leisurely letting her horse amble along the country path. Li Wei immediately pulled his reins, frowning deeply. Could it be that Wei Rao couldn’t accept losing and didn’t want to compete with him anymore?
Li Wei rode back and quickly caught up to Wei Rao.
“What does this mean, Princess?” Li Wei asked, riding alongside her and watching her face.
Wei Rao glanced at him. When they left the city, he had seemed agreeable, but now the sight of him only irritated her.
Yet Wei Rao knew Li Wei hadn’t done anything wrong—the problem was hers.
She had thought that after three years, Lu Zhuo’s influence on her had faded, that she could try to see if a suitable man might kindle a new romance. But testing it made her realize three years weren’t enough to let go of Lu Zhuo. His shadow was everywhere—even his horse made her unable to appreciate any other.
“I have no feelings for you,” Wei Rao told Li Wei honestly.
For all who came to propose, Wei Rao would meet them but never string anyone along. If she didn’t like someone, she wouldn’t pretend—she didn’t want to waste anyone’s effort.
Li Wei’s expression shifted slightly, though he hadn’t expected to win her heart in one attempt.
“Perhaps today’s timing isn’t right, and the Princess isn’t in the mood for riding,” Li Wei said understandingly.
Wei Rao neither confirmed nor denied it.
Gripping his reins, Li Wei asked, “Since the Princess gave up halfway, does this race count as my win?”
Wei Rao understood—Li Wei hadn’t given up.
Having agreed to offer a prize if she lost, Wei Rao had no intention of breaking her promise. She smiled and asked, “Do you still wish to enjoy the lantern festival with me?”
Li Wei replied earnestly, “Yes, I beg the Princess to grant me another chance.”
Wei Rao nodded. “Very well, but after the Lantern Festival, I will not see you again.”
Her meaning was clear: agreeing to see the lanterns was merely fulfilling the agreement—there was no possibility for her and Li Wei.
Unwilling to concede defeat, Li Wei clung to hope. Women were changeable; perhaps under the lanterns and moonlight, with enough sincerity, he could move her heart.
While the two were still on their way back to the capital, Lu Zhuo and his father had already arrived at the Duke of Yingguo’s Manor.
Nervous upon nearing home, Lu Mu looked at the familiar gate and dared not take another step forward.
Lu Zhuo glanced at his father, then stepped up to knock.
The gatekeeper opened the door and was met with Lu Zhuo’s face.The city guards could recognize him, and the gatekeeper of the Lu Family, who used to see Lu Zhuo several times a day, was stunned when their eyes met.
Lu Zhuo smiled at the gatekeeper, turned back, and took his trembling father’s wrist, leading him inside.
The gatekeeper, who was about the same age as Lu Zhuo, had never seen Lu Mu before. Realizing what was happening, he excitedly ran inside, shouting at the top of his lungs: "The Young Lord is back! The Young Lord is back! The Young Lord is back!"
The nearest building was the Hall of Loyalty and Righteousness.
The Duke of Yingguo was sitting in the courtyard, carving small wooden spears for his great-grandchildren. The Duchess of Yingguo had gone to the garden to watch over the lively children, leaving the courtyard quiet and peaceful. The Duke was thoroughly enjoying the tranquility, knowing that once the children returned, they would swarm around him like little monkeys, chattering in his ears, crying or shrieking—something he truly couldn’t bear.
The gatekeeper’s frantic, heart-wrenching cries reached him first, and the Duke frowned.
Soon after, the gatekeeper, his face streaked with tears and snot, ran over and told him that the Young Lord had truly returned and was at the gate.
The Duke stared at the gatekeeper, who was usually composed and not prone to sudden madness…
So…
The Duke threw down the wooden rod in his hand and strode forward with vigorous steps.
When he reached the front courtyard, the Duke immediately recognized Lu Zhuo. His gaze fixed on Lu Zhuo, unable to look away. His lips trembled as he wanted to call out "Shoucheng," but he feared it was just a trick of his eyes or a dream.
"Grandfather, your unfilial grandson has returned," Lu Zhuo hurried to the old man and knelt.
The Duke trembled as he touched Lu Zhuo’s head—it was real. He then reached out to touch the man’s face, only to find it wet with tears.
Lu Zhuo grasped the old man’s hand and looked up. "Grandfather, it’s really me."
Suddenly, the Duke knelt down, embracing Lu Zhuo’s shoulders. Grandfather and grandson pressed their foreheads together, struggling to hold back their tears, their faces flushed with emotion, yet unable to restrain their weeping.
Just as the Duke was about to speak, another figure knelt beside him and kowtowed three times in succession.
The Duke looked at the man, about to ask his grandson who this was, when the man slowly raised his head, revealing a weathered face drenched in tears.
The Duke felt a thunderous roar in his mind and staggered.
"Father!" Lu Mu rushed forward before Lu Zhuo could react, steadying his elderly father.
The Duke stared intently at his son, gripping his hand tightly as if afraid he would vanish otherwise.
Lu Mu wept bitterly. "Father, it’s me. Your son is incompetent—captured by the Wuda and trapped in Beihai for over twenty years…"
How could the Duke not know how many years his eldest son had been gone?
He was speechless, his gaze shifting between his eldest son and eldest grandson. Finally, the three of them embraced, their suppressed sobs echoing through the courtyard.
He Shi’s Spring Harmony Hall was the closest among the other four branches.
Upon hearing that her son had returned, He Shi ran so frantically that she lost one shoe along the way. Tears streaming down her face, she rushed into the courtyard and saw the three men embracing. She instantly recognized her son’s back and ran toward him, crying out his name. But as her son turned to look at her, another person also turned to face her.
His face had changed, but his eyes remained the same. He Shi’s steps faltered, her spirit seeming to leave her, and she dared not approach any further.Lu Zhuo remained still, watching as his father walked toward his mother. He helped his grandfather up and silently began tidying up for the two of them.
He Shi had fainted from weeping in her husband's embrace.
Twenty-two years—how many twenty-two-year spans does a person have in their lifetime? He had been absent during her most beautiful years, and now she had aged.
Lu Mu carried his wife into the hall and placed her on a chair. Gazing at the faint wrinkles at the corners of her eyes, her still fair and beautiful face, and then at his own hand about to touch the philtrum above her lips—rough as tree roots—Lu Mu feared he might accidentally hurt her.
Outside, the rest of the Lu Family had arrived one after another.
Lu Zhuo saw his three aunts, several sisters-in-law, his elderly grandmother, and a group of excited children running over. Among the children, he immediately recognized his own daughter.
But the way his daughter looked at him was clearly the gaze one would give a stranger.
Suppressing the turmoil in his heart, Lu Zhuo first comforted his grandmother. After she went to find his father, Lu Zhuo nodded to his aunts and finally walked toward A Bao, who was hiding behind Lu Bin.
Lu Bin was Lu Zhuo's sixth younger brother, now nine years old and very sensible. Seeing his elder brother approach, Lu Bin pulled A Bao forward and told her, "A Bao, this is your father."
A Bao had just turned four and already understood a few things.
She knew her father was the Young Lord of the Duke's Manor, someone her grandmother and great-grandmother missed dearly. Since the elders had just acknowledged him and wept while holding him for so long, A Bao understood that the man before her was truly her father, Lu Zhuo.
But her father was different from the one her mother had described.
Her mother had told her that her father was the most handsome gentleman in the capital, a hundred times more handsome than Fifth Uncle. Yet the father before her was so dark, with a scar on his face...
"A Bao, do you still remember your father?" Lu Zhuo knelt on one knee, his vision blurred as he looked at his daughter.
He knew his appearance had changed, and he was afraid of frightening her. Though he wanted to cry, he deliberately smiled gently.
A Bao did not remember her father.
But she liked this father. Even if he wasn't as handsome as her mother had said, this father was her real father.
"Father," A Bao obediently walked over and hugged her father.
Lu Zhuo had not expected his daughter to accept him so easily. Holding her small frame, he lowered his head, letting his tears soak into the fabric of her shoulder.
"A Bao, where is your mother?"
Father and daughter would have plenty of time to catch up later. Glancing back at the relatives gathered around his father, Lu Zhuo quietly asked his daughter.
A Bao, of course, knew where her mother had gone. She liked Uncle Li San and had been happy that morning when her mother went riding with him.
She liked Uncle Li San and wanted him to be her new father, but now that her real father had returned, he surely wouldn’t be pleased with such thoughts. If her mother were to abandon her and find a new daughter, A Bao would be unhappy too.
A Bao did not want her father to be sad.
So she lied: "Mother went to see the Dowager."
Lu Zhuo found it a bit strange: "Why didn’t she take you along?"
A Bao blinked and continued lying: "I didn’t want to go. I wanted to play with my brothers, so Mother brought me here instead."
Lu Zhuo understood.
After the family briefly caught up, Lu Zhuo and his father still had to go to the palace. Lu Zhuo prepared to return to the Hall of Pine and Moon to bathe and change.
The Duchess of Yingguo smiled and said, "Go on, go on. We can talk about everything else when you return."
Lu Zhuo took his leave, leaving his daughter with his mother.The Duchess of Yingguo summoned A Bao and instructed He Shi to take care of Lu Mu.
Half of He Shi's heart was with her husband, while the other half remained with her son. She worried deeply—if their son discovered that Wei Rao was already preparing to remarry and had recently met with numerous young men from prominent families, how much pain would he suffer?
The Duchess of Yingguo sighed and said, "Let him enter the palace first."
The rest could be dealt with gradually.
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