Wishing You Eternal Happiness

That night, Jiafu did not return home.

The courtyard where she and Pei You'an had once lived was still empty. Tanxiang tidied it up and prepared the bedding, so Jiafu stayed there.

Cui Yinshui later arrived as well, delivering an oral decree from the young emperor, ordering the imperial physicians to remain at the Duke's residence and exert all efforts in treatment, while Cui Yinshui himself attended to Jiafu.

"Your Majesty commands this servant to convey his words: Please take good care of yourself, Madam, and do not grieve too deeply," Cui Yinshui said.

Jiafu felt a mix of comfort, pride, and sorrow.

Her Ci'er was still so young, yet his words already carried a trace of solemn maturity.

Unable to sleep, she sat by the lamplight with Tanxiang keeping her company, chatting idly and doing needlework when suddenly voices were heard outside. Tanxiang went to look and returned, saying, "It's the young girl from the Second Master's household. With the chaos at home, she ran here."

The girl's name was Huijie. Jiafu quickly instructed Tanxiang to bring her in. Tanxiang complied, and moments later, she led Huijie inside. The little girl stopped behind a low table, her hair disheveled, tear stains smudged on her face, and looked timidly at Jiafu, too afraid to approach at first.

Jiafu smiled and walked over, taking her hand and leading her to sit on the edge of the bed. Tanxiang fetched a basin of warm water to wash her face and hands. Jiafu undid the girl's tangled braids, took a comb, and gently smoothed her hair before tying it into two neat braids. After a moment of appraisal, she smiled and said, "Auntie has no daughter of her own. If you have nothing to do in the future, remember to come visit often."

Zhou Jiao'e had not been unkind to her daughter, but her temper was fiery. Strained relations with her mother-in-law, a loveless marriage, and her own misfortunes had made her prone to scolding Huijie in fits of anger, using the girl as an outlet for her frustrations. Though she regretted it afterward, the cycle repeated, and over the years, with little affection from her grandmother or father, Huijie had grown timid. Over the past three years, while Jiafu lived in the Duke's residence, Zhou Jiao'e, out of jealousy, had forbidden her daughter from seeking out Jiafu. Yet deep in her heart, Huijie harbored a profound admiration for this gentle, smiling, and beautiful elder aunt. Tonight, with her mother suddenly gone and her wet nurse and maids anxious about their futures, the household in disarray, Huijie, frightened and without realizing it, had found her way here.

Huijie stared wide-eyed at Jiafu for a long moment before fresh tears welled up.

Jiafu drew her into her arms and softly patted her back.

Gradually, the little girl closed her eyes and fell into a deep sleep in her embrace.

Then, another commotion arose outside.

The wet nurse had finally noticed Huijie's absence and come searching for her.

Jiafu carefully laid Huijie down on the bed and sent Tanxiang out to relay that the girl had fallen asleep and would stay the night, to be fetched back in the morning.

The wet nurse murmured her assent and withdrew with a bow.

Jiafu tucked the girl in, dismissed Tanxiang and the others to rest, and lay down beside her.

At the second watch, news arrived from the second branch of the family: Pei Xiuluo's injuries were too severe, and he had just passed away.

Jiafu rose and dressed, hurrying over. Before she even entered the courtyard, she heard the sound of weeping. Inside, she saw Cao Shi holding her one-year-old son, surrounded by others wailing by the bedside.

The imperial physician said, "The Third Master's wounds were too grave. I could not reverse fate..."

He sighed, bowed to Jiafu, and withdrew.Second Madam sat on the edge of the bed, her eyes red and unfocused, staring fixedly at Jiafu. Gradually, her gaze shifted to the doorway behind Jiafu, as if she had seen something. Her eyes suddenly widened in terror, locked onto the empty space with a look of sheer dread.

Jiafu turned around to see nothing but darkness beyond the doorway—no sign of any intruder.

Yet Second Madam could no longer remain seated. She slid to her knees, kowtowing and sobbing, "Please... spare my son... I didn't mean to... Don't come for me... I'll burn paper money for you, I'll arrange rites... Just go back, don't come after me..."

"Second Madam! Second Madam!"

The maidservants cried out in alarm, rushing to help her up. But Second Madam shrieked as if she had seen a vengeful ghost, pushing away their hands and scrambling to her feet. She turned and fled blindly, only to crash headfirst into the wall with a heavy thud. Her eyes rolled back, and she collapsed unconscious on the ground.

The maidservants, terrified, all looked to Jiafu for guidance.

Jiafu ordered them to carry Second Madam back to her room and instructed the servants to return to their duties. News soon arrived from the main household that Madam Xin had also fallen ill, feverish and delirious. Fortunately, Quan Ge's injuries remained stable without further deterioration. Jiafu summoned the imperial physician to examine them before finally arranging for rest.

The chaotic night had finally come to an end.

Late the following night, Pei You'an returned. After listening to Jiafu recount the events, he remained silent until a servant announced that Pei Quan had come seeking an audience.

Jiafu followed him to the doorway and saw Pei Quan standing in the courtyard with his grandson. The man looked haggard, his eyes swollen, as though he had aged overnight. Before he could speak, Pei Quan broke into sobs and even began to kneel, lifting the hem of his robe.

Pei You'an stepped forward swiftly, supporting him before he could lower himself. He invited Pei Quan to wait in the family ancestral hall, then noticed the child gazing up at him with innocent, bewildered eyes. He patted the boy’s head before instructing a servant to summon Pei Xiuzhi as well. "Tell him I have something to say."

The servant bowed and hurried off.

Pei You'an made to leave but paused. He turned back to Jiafu, who stood watching him from the doorway, and gave her a warm, tender smile.

When Jiafu returned his smile, he nodded, then took the child’s hand and led him away.

Jiafu watched as his figure gradually disappeared beyond the courtyard gate.

That night, the ancestral hall of the Duke’s residence remained brightly lit, its candles burning long into the darkness. Pei You'an, Pei Quan, and Pei Xiuzhi stayed inside for hours. No one knew what was said between them—save for the ancestors of the Pei family. Later, the servants waiting outside faintly heard Pei Xiuzhi’s weeping from within.

Even after Pei You'an left, Pei Xiuzhi remained kneeling before the ancestral tablets, unmoving until dawn.

Pei You'an returned to his chambers near the fourth watch. Jiafu had been waiting for him, and at the sound of his familiar, steady footsteps, her heart leaped with joy. She rushed to the door to greet him.

In the blink of an eye, more than a decade had passed since they first met. She was no longer the youthful maiden of her teens, and he had long passed thirty, stepping into middle age. People had come and gone around them like shifting clouds, their rights and wrongs impossible to judge. Yet their hearts remained unchanged, as steadfast as ever.Before him, she would always remain that delicate young girl who had once called him "Big Cousin" at the Courier Station, rushing toward him without hesitation, wishing only to cling to him.

Pei You'an pushed open the door and saw her smiling as she quickly came to greet him. The heaviness and regret lingering in his heart from the night before vanished instantly.

He smiled, picked her up, and carried her to the bed, softly chiding her for still being awake.

Jiafu lay back on the pillow, tugging at his sleeve. "I won’t sleep until you return!"

Pei You'an chuckled with a hint of indulgent helplessness, removed his outer robe, and lay down beside her. Turning onto his side, he wrapped an arm around her and gently patted her back. "I’m back now. Sleep."

Jiafu instinctively wrapped her arms around his waist.

"Big Cousin, is there anything you need me to do?" she asked softly after a moment.

Pei You'an was silent for a while.

"Fu'er, tomorrow the family will hold a funeral. To the outside world, we’ll say it was a warehouse fire that spread and unfortunately claimed lives. I’ll handle matters outside. As for the rest..."

"I know," Jiafu nodded immediately. "I’ve already instructed Tanxiang to gather my things tomorrow morning. I’ll stay for a while to manage affairs."

"Thank you for your hard work," Pei You'an said, stroking her long hair.

Jiafu smiled at him. "I’m not the one working hard. You are."

Pei You'an kissed her, then held her tightly in his arms and sighed. "Fu'er, Uncle will raise that child well. Xiuzhi also swore before our ancestors that he would strive to improve and care for his mother and his two children. Before returning, I went to see Lady Xin. Seeing her like this now, I remembered how she cursed and resented before my father’s memorial tablet when I was sixteen. Because of my birth, their lives changed—like Lady Xin, who lived in bitterness until today, when she finally found some release. Sometimes I wonder: if I had never existed in this world, would their lives have been happier?"

Jiafu shook her head.

"Big Cousin, recently I read Buddhist scriptures about the sufferings of life. What are the eight sufferings? Birth, aging, sickness, death, separation from loved ones, unfulfilled desires, encounters with enemies, and the torment of sorrow. Life is inherently painful. The wise transcend it, while the unwise trap themselves. Even without you, their lives would have other pains. The root isn’t you—it’s the human heart."

"I don’t care about them. All I know is, Big Cousin, without you, my life would never know joy. If I told you that heaven arranged for you to come into this world, allowing me to live two lifetimes just to fulfill me, would you believe me?"

Pei You'an looked at her with slight surprise but didn’t interrupt, waiting for her to continue.

"Big Cousin, do you remember when you once said you didn’t know what you did in your past life to deserve my company in this one? Do you recall how I answered you then?"

Without waiting for his reply, she continued, "I told you that in your past life, you saved me. In this life, I remembered it clearly, so even though you forgot me, I clung to you."

"I meant it. Even if it was just a dream, only through experiencing it did I realize how fortunate I am because of you, Big Cousin."

"In this lifetime, though there are hardships, I am truly blessed."

Her tone was solemn.

Pei You'an gazed at her.Jiafu nestled closer, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck, her lips brushing against his ear as she whispered softly:

"Cousin, back then, you were also my cousin, and I was your cousin too. But I didn't know how wonderful you were, nor the pain you carried. I muddled through my days, strangers to each other, until that one final encounter in my lifetime—when I was at my most desperate and helpless, you saved me without hesitation. Only then did I realize there existed in this world a man as upright and noble as you. Having been given this second chance at life, I remembered you, cousin. Tell me, how could I possibly let you slip away again?"

A faint glimmer flickered in Pei You'an's eyes.

"Fu'er, I want to hear about your dream of the past life. I want to know how I saved you in that dream."

With a tender smile, Jiafu lovingly traced her fingertips over his lean, handsome face before leaning in to kiss him. "Then you'd better prepare yourself. After all, it's not exactly a happy story."

Pei You'an paused momentarily before bursting into laughter. He scooped Jiafu up and rolled with her on the bed, finally settling her atop his chest.

Gazing into each other's eyes, they saw their own reflections mirrored in the other's pupils.

"Don't we have this life now? Fu'er and I—never to part in this lifetime."

Smiling, he gradually tightened his arms around her until she was pressed firmly against his chest.

Not the slightest gap remained between them.

...

Epilogue.

...

At dawn, as the mountain hues cleared under the rising sun, accompanied by the melodious morning bell chimes, a special pair of pilgrims arrived outside the gates of the Royal Ci'en Temple. The man, middle-aged and dressed in the plain attire of a scholar with a blue robe and cloth shoes, stood tall and handsome. The woman beside him was extraordinarily beautiful, her eyes still shining with the clarity of a young girl, a faint smile gracing her lips. Though devoid of any extravagant adornments, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with her husband outside the temple gates, they exuded an air of simple nobility that set them apart from ordinary folk.

The monks naturally recognized this middle-aged couple. Upon hearing of their arrival, the abbot came out personally to greet them as a sign of respect, pressing his palms together in salute. After returning the gesture, the couple passed through the temple gates and proceeded inside.

The man was Pei You'an, the woman was Jiafu.

This year marked the ninth year of Yongyi reign.

Two years prior, Pei You'an—appointed as regent by the late emperor—had returned governance to the fourteen-year-old emperor after years of regency, marking the young ruler's assumption of personal rule.

During these two years, Pei You'an remained in court, assisting the emperor but gradually relinquishing various state affairs for the emperor to decide independently.

Three months ago, when the emperor turned sixteen, and as the other regent Zhang Shiyong—advanced in years and declining in health—submitted his resignation, the emperor, appreciative of his years of service, designated Zhang's granddaughter as empress. The grand wedding would take place when the emperor turned eighteen.Soon after, as unrest stirred beyond the frontier after years of peace, Pei You'an submitted a memorial to the Young Emperor. He wrote that he had been undeservedly favored by the late emperor, occupying high positions for many years, treading on thin ice without daring to slacken. Fortunately, the emperor, a true Son of Heaven with exceptional talent, had now come of age and personally governed for two years, his majestic authority revered throughout the land. Pei expressed his willingness to serve the emperor once more, but his heart lay not in the court—rather, in the frontier lands where he had shed blood in his youth. He requested permission to return beyond the passes, to guard the borders for the emperor, for the people of Great Wei, and for his own conscience.

The Young Emperor refused. Pei You'an remained resolute and submitted a second memorial.

After the third memorial, the emperor tearfully approved. He issued an edict retaining all of Pei You'an's titles from his nearly decade-long tenure as Grand Tutor and regent, without appointing a successor. He further enfeoffed him as Prince Jin, elevating him above all imperial relatives as the foremost among princes, granting him the privilege of never kneeling before the throne, with his princely estate to be inherited in perpetuity, enduring as long as the dynasty itself.

Over the past decade, Great Wei had enjoyed a golden age—"no policy unenforced, no strategy unwise, with a sagely ruler and virtuous ministers, prosperity and peace prevailing." Pei You'an had overseen state affairs with long-established prestige, while the Young Emperor, as he matured, had begun to reveal his own brilliance—steadfast and wise, gradually manifesting the awe-inspiring demeanor of a sovereign ruling over all under heaven. Court whispers suggested that Zhang Shiyong's retirement was actually due to the emperor's displeasure at his recent faction-building, subtly pressured into stepping down. As for the emperor's betrothal to Zhang's granddaughter, with the wedding postponed for two years, it was seen as a conciliatory measure—both demonstrating the emperor's adulthood and placating public sentiment. But who could say how circumstances might change in two years?

For years, some had privately speculated that despite the apparent harmony between ruler and minister—one a powerful regent dominating the court, the other a precocious young emperor—after nearly a decade of Pei You'an's governance, the process of returning power to the emperor would inevitably encounter turbulence.

Yet against all expectations, within mere months of three memorials and one edict, the matter was settled without upheaval.

Pei You'an would soon depart the capital. That morning, he took Jiafu beyond the city walls to the Royal Ci'en Temple, leaving their attendants at the mountain's base. Entering the temple, they first paid respects at the Pei family's Ancestral Hall, then to the Duke of Wei and his grandmother, before finally arriving at the courtyard where his late aunt had once resided. The couple entered, knelt in the courtyard facing the direction of her dwelling and the late emperor's mausoleum, and performed solemn obeisances from afar. Upon leaving, they instructed the monks that the courtyard need no longer be kept vacant but could be put to practical use—surely in accordance with the wishes of Empress Tianxi.

They lingered in the temple until evening before taking their leave, escorted by monks beyond the mountain gates.

Pei You'an held Jiafu's hand as they descended. Pausing midway on the narrow mountain path, they stood together watching the sunset—golden hues cascading over the mountains, birds returning to their nests, the forest a picturesque tapestry.

Pei You'an smiled. "Li Shangyin's line, 'The setting sun is infinitely lovely, only the dusk is near,' though an eternal masterpiece, is overly melancholic. Who says the approach of dusk is unwelcome? After this night, tomorrow brings a new sunrise. In my humble revision: 'The setting sun is infinitely lovely, yet night soon yields to dawn.' What say you, Fu'er?"Jiafu laughed and spat lightly in his direction. "You’ve got quite the nerve, daring to criticize Yishan’s poetry! Why don’t you mention the first two lines of Li Yishan’s poem? ‘At dusk, my heart is unsettled; I drive my carriage up the ancient plain.’ With such a mood, how could you expect him to write something like your ‘all-night ride chasing the eastern dawn’?"

Pei You'an, in high spirits, burst into laughter so hearty it echoed through the mountains, startling a few nearby birds into flight as they flapped their wings and soared into the sky.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, he continued to hold her hand as they descended the mountain. Upon reaching the foot, they boarded their carriage together. Nestled in her husband’s embrace, Jiafu was halfway home when she suddenly heard his voice beside her ear: "Fu'er, soon you’ll accompany me beyond the frontier. I fear it will be hard on you."

Jiafu sat up straight and met his gaze. His eyes, tender and profound, spoke volumes beyond words. She smiled sweetly. "Cousin, Ci’er is more than capable of fulfilling his duties. From now on, we have no other burdens. Wherever you are, my heart will follow. If you read by the window, I’ll brew tea for you; if you don armor for battle, I’ll await your return. Together, how could there be any hardship?"

Pei You'an pulled her into his arms. "Fu'er, no wonder my heart has always lingered on Suyeh City. If it truly was the place where I met my untimely end in a past life, then in this lifetime, how fortunate I am—because of you, the city where my bones once lay has now become my homecoming. Most lives are filled with discontent, and mine was no different. Yet how many can claim, as I do, that their hearts are made whole because of you?"

He kissed her gently, his sighs brimming with contentment.

By the time the carriage entered the city and stopped at their mansion’s gate, it was nearly midnight.

Pei You'an stepped down first and helped Jiafu alight. As she steadied herself, she noticed a tall, majestic horse tethered beside the mounting stone at the entrance. The steed, adorned with golden bridle and jade reins, stood proud and vigorous, its noble bearing unmistakable. Upon seeing her, it seemed to recognize her, lightly pawing the ground and wagging its tail in delight.

Jiafu recognized it at once—this was Snow Treader. Years ago, Pei You'an had sent it to the imperial stables to accompany Ci’er as he grew. After Ci’er turned ten, the horse became his faithful mount and had remained by his side ever since.

She never expected to see Snow Treader here again, appearing so suddenly tonight.

Her heart raced as she hurried inside. Before she could even speak, the gatekeeper knelt and informed her that His Majesty had arrived incognito that evening and was waiting for them in the study, where he still remained.

Exchanging a glance with her husband, Jiafu hastened to Pei You'an’s study at the rear hall. There, they found Cui Yinshui standing guard at the door. Spotting them, he hurried forward and bowed. "My lord, my lady, Your Majesty is inside—"

Jiafu left her husband behind and pushed open the slightly ajar study door. Stepping inside, her eyes fell upon a handsome young man seated quietly behind the desk. His features were as finely drawn as a painting, his demeanor elegant yet bearing a solemn air. Dressed in a simple scholar’s robe, he held Pei You'an’s brush, his head slightly bowed as if deeply engrossed in writing something.

On the desk beside him lay a stack of Ci’er’s childhood practice writings, which Pei You'an had preserved all these years. The pages had yellowed with time but were neatly bound together, each stroke of the childish handwriting painstakingly earnest despite its clumsiness.

Jiafu froze in her tracks, her gaze fixed on the young man’s figure, momentarily unable to move.The young man was startled by the sound of footsteps and finally looked up, his gaze fixed intently on Jiafu. Slowly, he set down his brush, then suddenly rose to his feet and hurried to her side. Now standing taller than her, he reached out just as he had in childhood, tightly grasping her sleeve. With a murmured "Mother," he knelt before her, his knees touching the ground.

In an instant, tears welled up in Jiafu's eyes as she tightly embraced her son's head, gently stroking his hair.

Pei You'an stood silently outside the door, watching the scene without entering or making a sound to disturb them.

After a long while, the young man was helped up by Jiafu.

She had wiped away her tears, and though the boy's eyes were slightly reddened, a smile graced his face. Leading Jiafu to the table, he pointed at the copybook he had just been practicing and said, "Mother, come see. Have my characters improved since I was little?"

Jiafu couldn't help but feel both sorrow and joy, forcing back the tears that threatened to spill once more as she looked through each one, nodding and praising continuously.

The young man stood quietly by, watching his still youthful and beautiful mother with a gentle smile in his eyes, his gaze full of tenderness.

He looked up and saw the figure standing outside the door. Helping Jiafu sit down, he made his way toward the entrance.

The tender smile he had worn while facing Jiafu had vanished from the young man's face. His expression solemn, he stepped forward slowly until he stood before the towering figure. They gazed at each other for a moment before the young man slowly knelt.

"Father, I came tonight to accompany you in finishing that unfinished game from years ago."

The young man bowed deeply, his forehead touching the ground, and spoke respectfully.

...

The young man brought out the chessboard Pei You'an had personally made for him when he was three years old.

The board had aged, but the pieces, often touched, still gleamed as if new.

When Pei You'an first saw it, for a fleeting moment, he felt as though he had been transported back to those bygone days.

That night, a father had played chess with his son. Midway through, the father had stepped away for some matter, and upon returning, found his son asleep on the board. When the boy awoke, he still remembered the unfinished game. The father had promised to remember the positions and finish it with him when time allowed.

"Father, you may not know this, but all these years in the palace, when I couldn't sleep at night, I would take out the chessboard and play both sides, matching wits with myself. I know you are a master of the game, Father. Today, I ask for your guidance on how my skills fare."

Pei You'an picked up a piece, his thumb lightly tracing the smooth grain of the wood. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and meditated briefly before opening them again and placing the piece on a square of the board.

Piece by piece, the unfinished game from years ago soon reappeared before the young man.

Pei You'an smiled faintly at the boy across from him. "Was it like this?"

The young man slowly raised his gaze, his eyes shimmering with a faint light, and nodded.

...

The game lasted until the fifth watch.

Only at the crowing of the rooster was the winner decided.

Pei You'an, having made a single misstep, lost the entire game by a narrow margin.

He studied the board, then tossed down his piece, shaking his head with a sigh. "I've grown old. My calculations are no match for yours."

The young man smiled. "Father merely indulged me—how could I not know? Just as you and Mother, all these years, have done everything to ease my mind, ensuring I had no younger siblings..."

He turned his head, gazing at his beautiful mother, who had succumbed to exhaustion and curled up to sleep on the nearby couch, covered with his father's outer robe. After a moment, he lowered his voice and said, "Father, in the past, I was ignorant. But now that I've grown up, for years I've hoped Mother could bear me a younger sibling. If this wish could be fulfilled, Ci'er would have no regrets left in this life."

Pei You'an looked at his beloved wife, oblivious in her slumber, and a faint smile slowly touched his lips.

The young man gathered the pieces one by one, finally putting away the chessboard and clutching it tightly in his hands like a treasure. Then he rose and knelt once more before Pei You'an and Jiafu, bowing solemnly before speaking. "Father, Snow Treader belongs in the vast wilderness beyond the pass. It longs to run free—the palace is but a cage to it. I leave it in your care now."

"And Father, please take care of Mother for me as well."He cast one last glance at the woman still lost in dreams, then turned and strode swiftly away.

Pei You'an watched the young man's retreating figure in blue-green robes pass through the gate and gradually disappear into the distance. After a moment of contemplation, he gathered the sleeping Jiafu into his arms and carried her back to their chamber.

Half-asleep, Jiafu nestled her face against her husband's warm chest with a contented sigh. Suddenly remembering, she jerked awake, clutching his arm. "Where's Ci'er?" she asked, eyes wide.

Pei You'an replied, "He left after finishing the game of chess."

Jiafu scrambled down from his embrace and rushed outside. In the courtyard, the first light of dawn tinted the eastern sky. The gate stood open, morning dew glistened on tree branches, and all around was empty—no trace remained of that handsome young man.

She stood motionless for a long moment.

Pei You'an approached and draped the outer garment that had slipped from her shoulders back around her. "I didn't wake you earlier," he said gently, "for fear you would cry."

Tears already reddening her eyes, Jiafu threw herself into her husband's embrace, choking back sobs. "Did Ci'er say anything?"

Pei You'an bent his head and whispered something in her ear that made her laugh through her tears, then blush crimson. She pushed him away without another word and turned to go inside.

If fortune smiled upon them in middle age, and granted them another child of their own...

That would be truly wonderful.

Watching his beloved wife's retreating figure, Pei You'an smiled faintly. Hands clasped behind his back, he followed her inside at a leisurely pace.

[End of Main Text]