◎Song Zhiwei, I only hope you’re also made of iron bones—don’t endure less than I did◎

Thanks to Huihui as her informant, Lan Shanjun quickly learned of her mother’s hesitation about the marriage, and also… that Song Zhiwei was coming to visit their home.

She didn’t care much about the former.

Mother was this kind of person—at the end of the day, her ears were somewhat soft. When you spoke, she listened to you; when he spoke, she listened to him. But whoever spoke with more weight, she would definitely listen to that heavier voice.

The words Lan Shanjun had said to her before were very heavy, so until now, whenever Mother made eye contact with her, she would retreat awkwardly.

Thus, having already agreed to the marriage, she probably couldn’t very well refuse now.

And Mother…

Lan Shanjun smiled and said, “Mother probably won’t interfere in my affairs.”

She feared that if she interfered, she’d be blamed later. Letting her make her own decisions this way—even if things didn’t go well in the future, it couldn’t be blamed on her.

Lan Hui felt sad. “Between mother and daughter, why has it come to this?”

Lan Shanjun patted her head. She didn’t continue talking about her own matters but instead asked, “Huihui, what kind of person do you want to marry? Tell me—I’ll advise you and can also mention it to Old Madam Shou.”

Lan Hui’s expression became confused, then she said softly, “I think… I want to marry far away.”

Lan Shanjun was surprised. “Marry far away?”

Lan Hui nodded. “Yes, marry far away.”

She didn’t say what kind of husband she wanted to marry—she just felt marrying far away would be enough.

Lan Shanjun then remembered that in her previous life, she had indeed married off to Jiangnan. After that, she never returned to Luoyang.

She’d previously thought Mother had specially chosen an excellent match for her, never imagining it was Huihui’s own intention.

Her thoughts turned as she asked, “Is it because of Mother?”

Lan Hui lowered her head, her face ashamed. “I know thinking this way isn’t good—it’s unfilial.”

But…

The older she grew, the more she wanted to stay away from Mother.

She didn’t want to listen to Mother’s endless complaints anymore. She was only thirteen years old. She already understood enough—she couldn’t understand any more. If she understood any more, even breathing would become difficult.

She wanted to survive.

Sometimes she felt that the way Mother and Sixth Sister got along was quite good—maintaining appearances between them while not being close.

But she was different from Sixth Sister. Sixth Sister could be this way because she’d been raised outside—Mother owed her to begin with, and she didn’t owe Mother anything.

But she had been raised by Mother, cherished in her palm bit by bit for over ten years. Even Eldest Brother and Third Brother’s food, clothing, and expenses couldn’t compare to hers.

She wanted to repay Mother.

Huihui’s tears fell as she said in a trembling voice with pressed lips, “But Mother doesn’t understand—doesn’t understand that endless complaining actually can’t change anything, can’t transform the Duke Zhenguo residence.”

“If I were a son, I would have studied earnestly and strived desperately for office to earn her some face. But I’m a daughter—I can only… can only marry into a high-ranking family.”

This was the first time Lan Shanjun had heard Lan Hui say these things. In two lifetimes, she seemed never to have truly understood this younger sister.

She suddenly felt heartache and pulled her into her arms, consoling her. “You’ve received over ten years of Mother’s kindness because you’re her daughter. This is destined and cannot be changed. So when she grows old in the future, you’ll also care for her in her old age. In the future, she’ll also receive over ten years of your kindness.”

“Thus, there is love from above and filial piety from below. But Mother is Mother, and you are you. Between you and Mother—she doesn’t need to truly tear out her heart and lungs to cure your illness, and you don’t need to cut your flesh to return bones, wasting your entire life.”

Lan Hui’s eyes were blurred with tears. “Really?”

She asked, “I don’t need to?”

Lan Shanjun nodded and told her decisively, “You don’t need to.”

“Although they say filial piety comes first among all virtues, judge the heart, not the deeds—judging by deeds, there would be no filial children in the world.”

She said, “Huihui, don’t worry about what kind of person Mother wants you to marry. Just think about what kind of person you want to marry.”

“If not marrying into a high-ranking family makes you unfilial, then aren’t Eldest Brother and Third Brother the same? They accomplish nothing and haven’t become high officials—isn’t that also unfilial?”

Lan Hui was so shocked by these words that she even forgot to cry. “Can I think like this?”

Lan Shanjun smiled. “Why not?”

“Sons and daughters—you’re Mother’s daughter, but aren’t Eldest Brother and Third Brother also her sons? Raised with the same painstaking effort—why doesn’t she tell those brothers of yours that they must revive the family’s glory and become high officials? If she had just pressed them a little, Third Brother wouldn’t be as he is now.”

She consoled her. “Huihui, life is short—seize the day and enjoy it. You don’t need to carry anyone else’s joys and sorrows on your journey.”

Much gratitude rose in Lan Hui’s heart. She thought that in this world, perhaps only Sixth Sister could say such words to her.

This was truly for her own good. After hearing today’s words, her state of mind had opened up considerably. Then she suddenly asked, “What about Sixth Sister?”

“Sixth Sister is also Mother’s daughter. How… how… how do you view your relationship with Mother?”

Lan Shanjun froze. She was habitually about to deflect, but looking at Huihui watching her expectantly, she hesitated for a moment, then sighed and said seriously, “I… I’m older now. I’ve passed the age of needing Mother’s affection and also passed the age of caring about Mother’s gaze.”

“Mother used to always say I was wrong…”

But thinking carefully now, her only mistake was that although she and Grandmother, Mother, Third Brother Lan, and even the entire Duke Zhenguo residence shared the same roots, they were deeply rooted trees while she had grown crooked in the wrong place, squeezing herself through a crack in the stones.

Between her and them lay sixteen years of time—their roots had long been planted in different soil.

She was ultimately unable to grow tall.

She smiled and said, “I once struggled with not being able to become a big tree, but later I thought—since I’m destined not to grow tall, I shouldn’t persist in traveling alongside my family. I should just peacefully wait to grow into whatever I’ll become.”

Perhaps a flower, perhaps a blade of grass.

Either would be good.

She said, “Huihui, I’m giving you these words too. Don’t persist in growing into what Mother wants. Trees also come in thousands of varieties.”

“Don’t marry far away just to avoid Mother—that won’t solve the problem. What you need to think about is whether you want to marry, and what kind of person you want to marry.”

Lan Hui’s eyes widened. Her firmly decided intention seemed to show signs of loosening. She asked again, “Can I?”

Lan Shanjun patted her head. “Why not?”

Lan Hui felt much better. But looking at Sixth Sister who was gently comforting her, she wondered: Why does she understand so much?

She’s only a few years older.

She remembered again what Sixth Sister had said to Mother: A child without a mother—it’s a long story.

She took a deep breath and said earnestly, “Sixth Sister, I’ll be good to you.”

Lan Shanjun laughed, then her expression became moved. “Thank you.”

“But look—you’ve taken on responsibility again.”

But this temperament probably couldn’t be changed quickly. She could only say, “Take it slowly, Huihui. You’re still young.”

She herself had taken ten years to comprehend these principles. Huihui was truly too young.

She smiled and said, “You don’t need to worry about my marriage. Old Madam Shou will enter the palace to help me request an imperial decree of marriage from His Majesty.”

As for Song Zhiwei… she thought he was probably going to use that same trick from her previous life again.

Back then, he’d used the “love at first sight” tactic so perfunctorily—seeing her just once, saying one sentence, then making a grand show of coming to request her hand in marriage.

She’d also been eager to marry and had married him as if blind.

It was just that she’d previously often accompanied Mother to banquets, so he could go over and speak a sentence to her. Now that she often stayed at the Shou residence, he couldn’t “accidentally encounter” her, so he’d come to visit.

This person had meticulous thoughts and strong purpose. Having decided to marry her, he would certainly exhaust all means to see her once. So the next day, sitting in her room, Lan Shanjun wondered: This time, what method will he use to “accidentally encounter” her?

A woman from Mother’s side came.

She said joyfully, “Sixth Miss, the Third Miss from the Song residence has also come. Madam asks you to come accompany the guest.”

Lan Shanjun laughed helplessly.

She stood up. “All right.”

She walked slowly along the way, not hurrying. Sure enough, when she turned past a corridor and was about to pass through an arched gate carved from stone, he walked toward her.

The two met, separated by an archway. Song Zhiwei bowed to her with a gentleman’s courtesy.

Lan Shanjun had imagined their reunion many times, but she’d never imagined this scenario.

He was courteous and polite, like a cultured scholar, an upright gentleman.

But this time, she finally saw clearly—saw his eyes coldly fixed on her, as if looking at goods waiting to be sold.

Lan Shanjun’s breath caught. She could almost not restrain herself.

She heard him say, “Sixth Miss Lan?”

Lan Shanjun didn’t reply.

It was still Nanny Zhao who sensed something was wrong and said, “This is our Sixth Miss.”

Song Zhiwei nodded. Of course he knew.

He smiled softly and said, “Last time I had the fortune of seeing Sixth Miss’s blade. I also heard Azhang mention that Miss’s blade is very fast.”

Lan Shanjun didn’t speak for a long time. Only after a long while did she reply, “Is that so?”

Song Zhiwei said, “Yes. One can see that Miss loves blades.”

He said, “Coincidentally, my third younger sister also loves blades. Miss and she should have much to discuss.”

Lan Shanjun raised her head to look at him. “Is that so?”

Song Zhiwei frowned slightly, feeling that this young lady’s gaze at her was somewhat wrong.

But this wrongness was hard to articulate.

Between him and her, this should be their first meeting.

But having met her, he had no interest in entangling with her further. He said a word of farewell and was about to leave.

He stepped through the archway, leading two young servants toward the outside, brushing past Lan Shanjun.

Before he could walk far, Lan Shanjun suddenly called out, “Lord Song.”

Song Zhiwei’s steps paused as he turned to look at her.

Lan Shanjun stared at him intently. “Lord Song, my blade is indeed very fast.”

But if one day…

If one day this blade struck toward you, it wouldn’t be fast.

I would definitely do it slowly, steadily, using a fine blade to cut you into thousands of pieces, then use medicine to heal you.

She smiled, her smile growing larger. “Lord Song, do you know what’s called a ‘Medicine King Body’?”

Song Zhiwei frowned. “Medicine King Body? I’ve never heard of it.”

Lan Shanjun said, “You certainly haven’t heard of it.”

This was something she’d just thought of… just now.

Just from looking at you once, I’ve thought of how to repay your kind intention of lighting the sky lantern for me back then.

She turned to face him directly. “But I think, many years from now—Lord Song will certainly understand.”

I just don’t know how long you can endure.

I, I endured through a winter, spring, summer, autumn…

I just don’t remember—don’t remember if I ultimately endured through another heavy snow, waited until the stream water outside the house gurgled and flowed again, waited until the peach grove outside the house bloomed with ten thousand flowers.

—Song Zhiwei, I only hope you’re also made of iron bones—don’t endure less than I did.