Speaking of Su Miao, Huayue smiled: “She always comes by, seems to be in good spirits, only she often drinks and composes poetry with Wen Guzhi’s group, never short on wine.”

She had loved drinking before, and it was only after marrying him that she had suddenly restrained herself. Now that no one stood in her way, she was surely back to drowning herself in wine again.

He had only asked in passing—after all, the divorce had already been finalized, and whether she lived or died had nothing to do with him anymore. Shen Zhiluo lowered his eyes and tucked his sleeves, nodding with cool indifference.

Just as they were speaking, Shuang Jiang came in from outside, glanced at him, then lowered her head and murmured to Huayue: “A guest has arrived.”

The only guest who could come to this small courtyard was Su Miao. Huayue raised an eyebrow, glanced at Shuang Jiang and then at Shen Zhiluo, who seemed somewhat distracted beside her, and said with a spark in her eyes: “Lord Shen, please sit a moment, I’ll go and come right back.”

Shen Zhiluo nodded, sitting quietly by the stone table, watching her leave.

Though this courtyard wasn’t as grand as the General’s residence, the green leaves intertwined and the rockeries were scattered about with a certain elegance—only in autumn it inevitably felt desolate, and when the wind blew through, there was no sign of life. Shen Zhiluo stared at the leaves on the rockery, his gaze somewhat unfocused.

A trace of wine’s fragrance drifted in on the wind for no reason, and someone came stumbling this way; the two white jade bracelets on her wrist clinked together with a jingling sound.

Shen Zhiluo couldn’t possibly not hear such a commotion, but his back merely stiffened as he sat still in place.

Su Miao stumbled in, holding onto the moon gate, looked left and right, and asked with a giggle: “Excuse me, have you seen a beautiful woman? Today she’s wearing an autumn-tea colored long skirt, with a peach-pink brocade headpiece.”

The person at the table looked up, expression somewhat complicated, his gaze sweeping over her innocently charming face before drifting away without a trace: “She just went out.”

Su Miao raised an eyebrow, squinting as she looked him over, then sat down and scratched her head in confusion: “Why do you look somewhat familiar?”

His face turning pale, Shen Zhiluo gripped his compass, pressing his lips together without a word.

He deeply loathed the way she looked when dead drunk, recognizing no one, like some philandering rake, mouth full of sweet nothings while caring for no one, heartless—the very sight of it infuriated him.

Yet every time she got drunk, she loved to lean in close to him with misty eyes and ask: “Whose handsome young master are you?”

Shen Zhiluo sneered coldly, flicked his sleeve, and rose to leave.

Su Miao instinctively reached out and grabbed his sleeve, her exceptionally charming face tilting up toward him, shaking his shoulder relentlessly: “Why won’t you pay attention to me?”

“The divorce papers have already been obtained—what more does Miss Su want me to pay attention to?” he said in a low voice. “I don’t drink, and I can’t accompany the young lady in her pleasures.”

Dazed for a good while, Su Miao’s eyes gradually cleared, her mouth pouting as her eyes reddened: “Oh right, I got the divorce papers, you gave them to me.”

The words were true, but the tone was so full of grievance, as if he had been the one in the wrong. Shen Zhiluo felt a surge of anger: “Wasn’t it you who insisted I write them?”

Obediently, Su Miao agreed, standing up straight, nodding blankly: “Yes, I made you write them.”

“…” Taking a deep breath, Shen Zhiluo felt his chest tighten, his temples throbbing. She was the one who wanted to leave, she was the one who wanted to cry, she was the one who said she liked him and wanted to grow old together with him, and she was the one who said she wanted the divorce papers and would never look back—how could there be such a person?

Gathering himself to reason properly with her, before he could even open his mouth, Su Miao let go of his sleeve first.

She seemed to have finally come to her senses, a moment of clarity in her eyes; she stepped back, pressed a hand to her forehead, and bowed her head to him: “Sorry, I don’t recognize people when I’m drunk, talking nonsense—please don’t take it to heart.”

Having said that, she turned to head toward Huayue’s main room.

This was truly unbearable. Shen Zhiluo grabbed her back by the wrist, his voice cold: “Do you really think others have no temper at all, that you can come and go as you please?”

Su Miao silently met his gaze, thought for a moment, and said: “Then I won’t leave. Lord Shen, if you keep me here, what do you intend to do?”

That single sentence left him half-choked with anger. Furious, Shen Zhiluo closed his eyes and said coldly: “I must have been blind to ever believe you had sincere feelings. I wish Miss Su a fresh start—may you find a worthy husband.”

“I’ll take your blessing.” Su Miao returned the gesture with a bow, then turned and went into the room.

Enraged beyond measure, Shen Zhiluo turned and strode toward the door, only to run right into Huayue, who was hurrying over.

“Lord Shen is leaving already?” Huayue looked at him with some surprise. “Weren’t we going to discuss that matter in the Eastern Palace?”

Nearly forgetting the actual business in his anger, Shen Zhiluo closed his eyes and rubbed his brow: “Let’s talk somewhere else. Miss Su is drunk and just went to your room—there’s bound to be a commotion soon.”

“So that’s where she ran off to—she came straight to this courtyard, no wonder I couldn’t find her.” Huayue let out a breath of relief, gesturing for him to sit in the garden pavilion, and instructed Shuang Jiang as they walked, “Go quickly and look after the young miss, make up her bed, let her sleep well.”

“Yes.” Shuang Jiang agreed.

Shen Zhiluo eyed her coldly, saying indifferently: “Why bother with such effort? Just send someone to take her back to the General’s residence—it’d cause less trouble.”

Startled, Huayue glanced at him and found it amusing: “Back to the General’s residence—how would that even work? You know perfectly well she’s had such a falling out with General Li, there’s no going back there.”

His steps paused, Shen Zhiluo not understanding: “What falling out did she have with General Li?”

The person before him suddenly widened her eyes, looking him up and down as if seeing some strange creature, then her expression softened, and she sighed: “So you really don’t know—here I thought you were truly a hard-hearted man, still willing to divorce her even after all that happened.”

Shen Zhiluo was quite bewildered, while Huayue seemed to have solved a puzzle, calmly sitting down in the pavilion and looking up at him: “Does Lord Shen want to know what happened?”

The divorce papers had already been given anyway, whatever happened to Su Miao had nothing to do with him—he was one who served heaven and earth, how could he indulge in worldly greed, anger, and attachment like these mortals? Shen Zhiluo turned his head away disdainfully.

After a good while, a low voice sounded beside him: “What happened?”

Delighted beyond measure, Huayue leaned against the stone table and laughed: “So the National Preceptor can have a day like this too—I finally believe what you said about heaven’s way having its cycles, that in this world, cause truly does bring consequence.”

She laughed for quite a while, and only when she saw that his expression had grown somewhat strained did she clear her throat twice and tell him the whole story.

The wind rustled softly through the courtyard as Shen Zhiluo listened quietly, his expression showing no change.

“…The General’s residence is now the height of favor and prominence, with distant relatives from eight hundred li away scrambling to curry favor. But she, of all things, cast herself out of the household, earning a thorough scolding from the entire Li family. I thought she was determined to spend her whole life with you, but who would have expected that not long after, she actually received the divorce papers.”

Huayue sighed with feeling: “What great sin must she have committed in her past life, to earn meeting you in this one?”

The person beside her remained silent, not saying a single word in response. Huayue wasn’t in a hurry either, muttering to herself: “Actually, the young miss is foolish too—if she’d known she’d end up with divorce papers, she shouldn’t have fought with General Li in the first place. You didn’t see how badly the General scolded her that day, the maids and old women of the household all came out to watch the spectacle, and even her parents’ memorial tablets were removed from the ancestral hall and sent to Yongqing Temple.”

“She seems like a clever enough girl, but when it comes to you, she’s stubbornly devoted—all bold talk on the surface, while actually swallowing every loss herself. It’s not worth it.”

Letting out a long sigh, Huayue toyed with her handkerchief and said casually: “I’m not trying to persuade you of anything—you’re a man who understands the mandate of heaven, you naturally have your reasons for what you do. Giving her the divorce papers was fine too—once the storm passes in a few years, the young miss can still find someone else to marry, live a quiet life elsewhere, that’s not bad either.”

Having said her piece, she didn’t look at Shen Zhiluo, seamlessly changing the subject and letting him continue with the actual matter at hand.

According to the original plan, once the business was concluded he should have left the small courtyard immediately, to avoid being discovered and giving rise to gossip, but after finishing the discussion, Shen Zhiluo remained seated where he was, not moving.

Huayue, supporting herself on Shuang Jiang’s arm, stood up and said: “Please sit a while longer, my lord—it’s about time for me to take my belly out for a walk. If you’re tired, feel free to stay seated longer; the carriage is waiting at the back gate as always.”

“Very well.” Shen Zhiluo agreed.

The two women left, their figures soon disappearing beyond the garden. Shen Zhiluo sat there a moment longer, then finally rose and went to the main room.

Su Miao was already asleep, hugging her pillow, her feet restlessly kicking off the covers, sleeping with no regard for propriety at all. He stood by the bed and looked at her for a moment, then, expressionless, bent down and picked her up.

“Coming to someone’s residence and taking things with you when you leave—is that proper?” Shuang Jiang, hiding in the shadows, watched Shen Zhiluo carry her out to the carriage outside the gate, asking in a hushed, astonished voice.

Huayue poked her head out from behind the wall to glance outside, waving her hand: “Let him take her then—he brought a whole box of gifts when he came, this can just count as our return gift.”

“But,” Shuang Jiang said, somewhat worried, “is this really appropriate? What if the young miss doesn’t want to go back with him—”

“Then she wouldn’t have come at this particular hour.” Huayue flicked her forehead. “Honestly, your mind just isn’t quick enough sometimes.”

Usually at this hour, Su Miao would still be drinking with those young lords at Qifeng Tower. For her to suddenly rush over like this, and specifically to seek out Shen Zhiluo of all people—her little girl’s heart was obvious for all to see. As her sister-in-law, Huayue couldn’t very well refuse to help things along.

“Taking her back like this—will it really turn out well?” Shuang Jiang was quite puzzled. “It’s already gotten to the point of divorce papers.”

“Maybe it won’t get better right away, but it will definitely be useful.” Huayue thought of a line from a book that Li Jingyun had once read on his bed, and smiled faintly.

Place oneself in a position of death and life will follow after—the position of death had already been reached, nothing worse could happen now; as long as the young miss still loved Shen Zhiluo, that new life would surely come.

After all, she was a young lady raised in the General’s household—Lord Shen might calculate the whole world down to the last detail, but he might not be able to calculate the human heart, and there was nothing to lose in falling into her hands. What’s more, this time, he himself had felt a pang of tenderness.

Shen Zhiluo would never say whether he felt tenderness or not—he found such talk tiresome, and besides, all living beings suffered; why should she alone deserve his tenderness?

That’s what he thought, but in the carriage on the way back, he still held her carefully, one hand shielding the side of her head, so that she wouldn’t knock against the carriage wall as it swayed.

He didn’t understand how there could be such a peculiar person as Su Miao in this world—clearly not the least bit proper, not the least bit sincere, and yet stubbornly determined to follow him no matter what she gave up. If he called it mere playacting, then no one could put on such a performance so convincingly—a perfectly fine young lady, giving up her status for what purpose?