It was not that Hua Zhi had intended to speak well of the Emperor — but she had seen clearly where Yanxi stood. To him, the Great Qing dynasty was likely what the Hua Family was to her. Now that the two of them had come this far together, it was only natural that she should uphold what he upheld. He did not wish for General Sun to lose faith in the Great Qing dynasty, and so she had to help bring that about.

From the bottom of her heart, she too hoped the Great Qing dynasty would not fall into chaos — even if the source of that chaos was the imperial family itself.

Of course, she did not think herself so capable as to imagine that a few words from her could extinguish the Sun Family’s anger. The key lay with the Sixth Prince himself.

She had never believed that concealing things was a good course of action. The Sun Family would learn the truth eventually — better they hear it from her directly than piece together some uncertain mix of truth and rumor from elsewhere. They would have anger, certainly, but upon learning that both the Gu Shizi and His Majesty had acted to protect the boy, half of that anger would subside on its own. The remaining half would all but dissolve once they saw the Sixth Prince safe and unharmed. Controlling the matter as much as possible within manageable bounds — this was precisely the reasoning that had won Gu Yanxi’s agreement with her approach.

When she thought about it, she could not even recall which day it was that the two of them had begun to consult each other as equals on matters of state. She truly did not know whether to say it was Yanxi who trusted her too readily, or she who trusted Yanxi too readily.

Thinking of Gu Yanxi, a faint warmth drifted into Hua Zhi’s eyes, and the softness of it spread across her features.

But Madam Sun took that look to be meant for her, and though there was happiness in what she saw, her nose suddenly stung with the threat of tears.

She thought of her ill-fated daughter — that sensible child who had been just as resilient, who had shown just this kind of softness toward her. This life that devoured people whole.

“Madam Sun?” Hua Zhi looked at her in puzzlement as she dabbed at the corner of her eye, reviewing her own words and manner and finding nothing amiss.

Madam Sun shook her head and offered no explanation. Some people, once mentioned, brought nothing but heartache. “Your father called me ‘Auntie’ when he was small. By that reckoning, you ought to call me ‘Grand-Aunt.'”

Hua Zhi’s mouth opened, but “Grand-Aunt” would simply not come out. Adding her two lifetimes together, she was still the younger — to call someone who looked this youthful “grandmother” was truly beyond her.

“What is it? Are you unwilling?”

Hua Zhi smoothed a strand of hair by her temple, a touch of sheepishness on her face. “You look far too young. I genuinely cannot bring myself to say it.”

Madam Sun paused — and then broke into a full, open laugh. Every line on her face smoothed and unfurled; the warmth in her eyes bloomed outward like a flower in full burst, spreading from the depths of her gaze to the corners of her mouth, all the way to the tips of her brows.

She was a woman whose beauty reached all the way to the bone. Age had not diminished her — it had only added a richness that time alone could bring. Even Hua Zhi, accustomed as she was to all manner of beautiful people, found herself marveling inwardly at this woman, old in years yet undiminished in beauty: she was the living proof of the saying that true beauty lies in the bone, not the skin.

Madam Sun had not laughed so freely in a very long time. That one remark from Hua Zhi moved her more than a thousand words of flattery ever could — and she could tell that Hua Zhi had not said it to flatter her, but because she genuinely could not bring herself to say the word. Looking back over their time together from the moment they met, Hua Zhi had consistently called her “Madam Sun” — never “Old Madam Sun” as others did. Even in that small detail, it was clear what she truly thought.

She had taken a genuine liking to this girl.

Madam Sun regarded Hua Zhi with a smile still in her eyes. “Are you thinking of calling me ‘Auntie’ instead? That would upset the generations entirely.”

Hua Zhi lowered her head slightly and called out softly: “Grand-Aunt.”

Madam Sun’s smile grew warmer still, and she answered with a bright, clear voice.

Just as Madam Sun was about to tease her a little more, the maidservant keeping watch outside announced: “Young Miss, Master Lu has arrived.”

Both women looked toward the door at once — one toward the taller figure, one toward the shorter.

Bao Xia lifted the curtain. The Sixth Prince had been about to politely yield and let the other enter first — when he felt a light push at his back, and the two stepped into the room one after the other.

At the sight of his grandmother, Gu Chengqian’s nose prickled. Every grief, every resentment, every heartache he had thought he had worked through came rushing up all at once — and before any words could leave his mouth, his eyes had already gone red.

Madam Sun had been holding herself together, but the moment she saw her always-composed grandson like this, she was on her feet in an instant. She crossed the room in a few quick steps and gathered him close, pulling him in with the posture of someone standing guard, her gaze sharpening in the same breath. “It is all right. It is over now. You are safe.”

Hua Zhi gave a small bow toward Madam Sun and quietly left the room. In a moment like this, any word spoken would only be one too many.

Gu Yanxi followed immediately after her.

Hua Zhi glanced back at him, then waited as he came up to walk alongside her — this was the distance this man preferred most.

Then, softly, she hooked her little finger around his. The trailing sleeve hid their joined hands from view. Her expression remained perfectly composed; it was Gu Yanxi who was caught off guard for a moment, before he reached back at once, threading one finger through hers, then another, until their hands were fully interlaced.

Footsteps came tapping up the staircase — someone was coming up. Hua Zhi’s hand shifted. Gu Yanxi gripped it once before letting go.

“Young Miss, the Zhu Family, the Qin Family, and the Lu Family have all arrived together.”

Together? Hua Zhi raised an eyebrow, exchanged a glance with Gu Yanxi, and the two walked downstairs side by side.

The carriages of all three families were now inside the courtyard. Zhu Shan assisted the Zhu Family’s old madam down from the carriage while Zhu Ziwen received them on the outside. Nearby, Zhu Haocheng — the eldest son of the Zhu Family — was exchanging pleasantries with Lu Boxi, eldest son of the Lu Family, and Qin Gongyang, eldest son of the Qin Family.

As though by prior arrangement, all three families had sent their eldest sons — and every one of them had brought along four or five of their younger family members, both male and female. The only difference was that the Zhu Family’s old madam, in her doting fondness for her granddaughter, had come herself.

Looking at the crowd of relatives — young and old alike — who had arrived from each family, they each seemed to have the same thought at the same moment. They exchanged glances, and smiled — whether they were there for interests or for affection, they had come, and that made them, at the very least in this moment, something close to their own people.

After the exchange of greetings, the assembled guests turned their eyes to this small, refined building that carried an air of understated antiquity. The young woman who had invited them stepped out from within — no timidity, no coy softness, only an easy composure as she walked toward them, her steps unhurried, and offered a bow to the group at large.

The old madam of the Zhu Family pulled rank and came forward to raise her up, beaming with grandmotherly warmth. “The moment I heard there would be good food, I came of my own accord. You must take care of this old grandmother’s teeth — give me something gentle that sits well.”

“Of course. I will make sure you enjoy every dish.” Hua Zhi smiled at the others, then took the old madam’s arm and led her inside, guiding her straight up to the second floor.

Gu Yanxi stationed himself casually at the doorway. With all his presence reined in, he looked at this moment like the most unremarkable of guards, and as the others passed by him, not one gave him a second glance.

“Cousin, is there anything off-limits on the first floor?”

Hua Zhi glanced down toward the staircase landing at Zhu Ziwen, and beyond him at the younger members of the other families who were clearly curious about what was below. She shook her head. “This is simply a place for eating — there are no particular restrictions or rules. Look around as you please.”

“Then we shall not stand on ceremony.” The one who answered was Lu Shuangrui, Lu Family’s eldest grandson, who was already married with a child of his own and was the oldest among the younger generation present.

It could be said that each family had extended Hua Zhi a certain face by coming today — not only had they sent members of the main branch, they had also brought along the young women of their families. Whatever the reason behind it — whether trust or something else — this was the stance they were choosing to show, and it signaled their willingness to associate with Hua Zhi going forward.