The main residence of the Ying Guo Gong Manor was located in the central area, a compound with five rooms and four courtyards. The front consisted of the manor’s front courtyard, main hall, and flower hall, while the back had a small garden with a Buddha hall. From Song Mo’s residence, the Yizhi Hall, one could reach it by passing through a diagonal alley lined with emerald bamboo.

As he entered the courtyard, he saw his mother standing on the steps, her gaze fixed absently on the camphor tree in the corner. She was tall and elegant, with a subtle air of strength and pride in her brow.

The sachet in Song Mo’s hand suddenly felt like a burning flame, scorching hot.

This camphor tree was sent by his uncle from Fujian for his mother’s 20th birthday. It was only as tall as a person then, but now it reached the eaves.

“You’re here!” Jiang smiled, greeting her son as she sat down on a stone bench under the grape trellis.

The grape vines had just begun to bud, and the bright spring sunlight filtered through the sparse branches onto her face, revealing a few strands of silver among her once jet-black hair.

Song Mo’s heart ached. As the maids served tea, he moved behind his mother, playfully pressing her shoulders. “Mother, you have some white hair. Shall I pluck them for you?”

Jiang smiled, looking at the long silver strands in her son’s hand. Half wistful, half content, she said, “You’re about to take a wife. It’s time for your mother to grow old!”

Despite his usual composure, Song Mo was still just a thirteen-year-old boy. His face turned red as he stammered, “Mother!”

His rare embarrassment delighted Jiang. She laughed and asked, “How old is that girl you met in Zhending?”

For a girl to fluster her son, she must be bold, clever, and quick-witted.

“Why are you asking about this?” Song Mo’s face reddened further. He protested, “She’s already engaged!”

As soon as the words left his mouth, both mother and son were stunned.

The wind rustled through the grape trellis, making the tender green buds tremble.

Song Mo was mortified.

His mother had merely asked out of curiosity. How had he blurted out such a thing?

Realizing this, he felt his face burning even hotter. Uncomfortable, he said, “Master Yan suggested I befriend Wei Tingyu. I think it’s a good idea. I was just thinking about how to tell Zongyao and find a way to get to know this person.”

Jiang smiled meaningfully.

She felt a twinge of regret but knew that saying more might tarnish the young lady’s reputation.

Song Mo, however, couldn’t maintain his composure. Looking around, he asked, “Where’s Father? I don’t see him.”

“He went to the Third Princess’s manor,” she followed her son’s change of subject. “Your father doesn’t dare ask the Crown Prince to intervene, fearing it might implicate him. He wants to ask the Third Princess to gauge the Emperor’s mood.” At this point, her spirits fell. “I’ve already discussed with Master Min. Since the Emperor has retained the memorial defending Uncle without issuing it, we’ll ask those who previously served under Uncle to submit memorials impeaching him… But those who were too close shouldn’t come forward, lest the Emperor become suspicious… The fear is that the Emperor has already made up his mind, and no matter what we do, it will be in vain…”

The Third Princess Enrong was born to Empress Yuan née Shen, the Emperor’s eldest legitimate daughter, and greatly favored by him.

Her husband, Shi Cuilan, was the younger brother of Marquis Changxing Shi Duanlan and a childhood friend of the Ying Guo Gong. They had a very close relationship.

But would this be of any use?

It might be better to bribe the Emperor’s chief eunuch, Wang Yuan!

Song Mo thought, nodding absently.

The atmosphere suddenly became heavy.

Song Mo squeezed the sachet in his palm. After a while, he mustered the courage to call out, “Mother,” and said softly, “I have something to tell you…”

“What?” Jiang looked up, her eyes still showing traces of confusion, clearly not having heard what her son had just said.

Song Mo took a deep breath, about to repeat what he had said to his mother, when she suddenly perked up and said seriously, “I want to propose a marriage between you and your cousin Hanzhu from your second uncle’s family. What do you think?”

He widened his eyes, then slowly pressed his lips together.

Jiang sighed inwardly, her voice sounding somewhat detached due to her rationality: “I know you’ve been close to your cousin Xieshou from your fourth uncle’s family since childhood, but Xieshou is born of a concubine. Although our Jiang family doesn’t mind, your father is very particular about legitimacy. You wouldn’t even get past your father’s approval. Your second uncle passed away early, leaving only your cousin as his bloodline. Your other cousins at least have fathers and brothers to look after them, but she has been fatherless since childhood, lonely and without support…”

Song Mo lowered his head slightly.

Cousin Hanzhu was in love with Yin Zhi, a nephew from his great-aunt’s family who was training in martial arts at the Jiang household.

His grandmother and great-aunt both knew. His great-aunt had sent Yin Zhi to his uncle’s military camp, telling him, “Our Jiang family’s daughters don’t marry cowards. If you want to marry Hanzhu, bring military merits as your betrothal gift.”

When Yin Zhi left, he gave Hanzhu a golden hairpin, asking Song Mo to pass it to her.

But in the face of life and death, what did these matters of the heart amount to?

The sunlight fell on his face, his long eyelashes casting a shadow on his eyelids.

“Marriage is indeed a matter for parents to decide,” he said softly, his voice as gentle as a spring breeze. “I’ll listen to Mother’s wishes.”

His son, who had always been independent and never let others dictate his actions, suddenly saying such words deeply pained Jiang. It made her intended words come to an abrupt halt, leaving her at a loss.

Sensing Jiang’s sadness, Song Mo held his mother’s hand. “Mother, I don’t feel wronged,” he comforted her. “Cousin Hanzhu is also very good. She can ride and shoot, and write calligraphy. If she marries into our family, you’ll have a companion… I’ll tell Father that I’ve taken a liking to Cousin Hanzhu. That way, he won’t object.” As he spoke, he smiled brightly at his mother.

That smile was radiant and bright, like the rising sun, without a trace of gloom.

Tears fell from Jiang’s eyes.

None of this was worth crying over!

Song Mo pressed his lips together and took out the sachet he had been clutching in his hand. “Mother, Xu Qing just sent this…”

Jiang was startled, a bad feeling rising in her heart. Before Song Mo could finish speaking, she had already snatched the sachet.

The note, though only two fingers wide, felt as heavy as a thousand pounds.

Jiang read it once, wiped her eyes, and read it again. Finally, she looked up at her son, her face pale. “Is it true?” Her voice was hoarse, her gaze somewhat unfocused.

Song Mo steeled himself and nodded.

Jiang felt the world spinning, unsure of where she was.

The sound of laughter gradually approached, and the still somewhat childish voice of her second son came clearly: “Hurry, hurry! I want to show Mother!”

She collected herself, took the handkerchief her eldest son offered, and hurriedly wiped her tears.

Song Mo also sat up straight.

By the time Song Han came running with a bow and arrow, his mother and brother were elegantly sitting at the stone table under the grape trellis, drinking tea.

He tugged at his mother’s hand, wheedling, “Mother, Mother, look, look!”

The servant who followed knelt on the ground, holding up a large red lacquer tray.

On the tray lay a plump golden pheasant, with an arrow slanted into its back, revealing snow-white fletching.

“I’m even better than Brother, aren’t I?” Song Han looked proudly at his brother. “When Brother was ten, he went hunting with Fifth Uncle but didn’t catch anything!”

He was ten years old this year, three years younger than Song Mo.

Jiang managed a smile, praising her younger son: “Yes, our Tian’en is much better than your brother!”

Tian’en was Song Han’s childhood name.

Despite the sadness in his heart, Song Han’s somewhat naive words lightened Song Mo’s mood a bit.

This must be the golden pheasant raised in the back garden of the house.

His brother couldn’t even fully draw the specially made bow for him, how could he shoot so deep?

Most likely, the servants had chased it in front of him, and then he shot at the pheasant.

It’s also possible that the servants had already killed this pheasant, and after his brother shot randomly into the bushes, they scurried to pull out this pheasant that was already hidden in the bushes…

Whether it was the former or the latter, he had no intention of disappointing his brother.

“It’s quite good!” Song Mo smiled. “The student surpasses the master.”

Song Han became even more proud. He pointed at the golden pheasant on the lacquer tray and loudly instructed the servant: “Take it to the kitchen and tell the cook to add it to tonight’s dinner.”

The servant bowed and retreated with the tray.

He sat close to his mother and stretched like a little adult: “Today was tiring!”

Both Jiang and Song Mo gave faint smiles.

Song Han’s eyes darted around, and he suddenly jumped off the stone stool, saying, “Mother, I’m going to change my clothes.”

“Go ahead!” Jiang still had important matters to discuss with her eldest son. She smiled and gave a few instructions to the maids attending Song Han. Once her second son’s figure disappeared at the door, her smile slowly faded.

“Tianci!” As soon as she spoke, her eyes glistened with tears. “Does Master Min know? I’ll come to your place later to discuss with Master Min, Master Luo, and Master Yan about what to do!” Her voice was calm and steady, having regained her composure.

Master Min was her elder brother’s advisor, who had rushed over from Fujian after her brother got into trouble.

Master Luo, however, was the advisor her elder brother had left at home to help her fifth brother handle family affairs.

Although Master Yan had once been her elder brother’s advisor, he had followed Song Mo early on and was considered part of the Ying Guo Gong Manor. For her elder brother’s matters, Master Min and Master Luo would take the lead.

Song Mo was proud that his mother hadn’t broken down.

He respectfully agreed and set a time to meet with his mother for the discussion before withdrawing.

Jiang sat there, her limbs weak, her mind blank.

Song Mo, however, saw his younger brother hiding behind the cypress tree at the door, waving to him.

He smiled and walked over.

“Brother,” Song Han looked at Song Mo worriedly and whispered, “Is Uncle going to be imprisoned?”

Although he and his mother had kept it from his younger brother, the matter of their uncle had become the talk of the town. His brother was very intelligent and must have already known. Continuing to hide it would only make his brother feel fooled, so it was better to tell him the truth.

“Don’t listen to nonsense,” Song Mo pondered briefly, then said, “Uncle is just being questioned now. Once things are cleared up, it will be fine.” Then he smiled and said, “Not everyone has the right to be imprisoned in the imperial prison!” He was trying to lighten the mood.

Song Han carefully studied his brother’s expression.

His brother raised an eyebrow, his gaze carrying a hint of amusement.

Song Han’s face reddened, and he ran off in a flash: “I understand!”

His clear voice lingered in the air, bringing a faint smile to Song Mo’s face.