That night, Jiafu did not return home.

The courtyard where she and Pei You’an had previously lived was still vacant. Tanxiang had cleaned it and laid out bedding, so Jiafu stayed there for the night.

Cui Yinshui also came later, conveying a verbal edict from the young Emperor, ordering the imperial physician to remain at the Duke’s mansion and provide full treatment. Cui Yinshui then attended to Jiafu.

“His Majesty instructed this servant to tell Madam to take good care of herself and not to grieve too much,” Cui Yinshui said.

Jiafu felt somewhat comforted, and proud, yet also touched with sadness.

Her little Ci’er was still so young, yet his words already carried a hint of maturity beyond his years.

She had no desire to sleep and sat under the lamp while Tanxiang kept her company, chatting idly and doing needlework. Suddenly, they heard voices from outside. Tanxiang went to look and returned saying, “It’s Second Master’s daughter. With the household in chaos, she has run here.”

The girl was named Hui Jie. Jiafu quickly told Tanxiang to bring her in. Tanxiang complied, and moments later, led Hui Jie in. The little girl stopped behind a stool, her hair disheveled, her face marked with tear stains, looking timidly at Jiafu, initially afraid to come closer.

Jiafu smiled, walked over, took her hand, and led her to sit by the bed. Tanxiang brought a basin of warm water to wash her face and hands. Jiafu undid her messy braids, took a comb, and slowly smoothed her hair, then tied it into two braids. After examining her, she smiled and said, “Your aunt has no daughters. In the future, if you have nothing to do, remember to come and visit your aunt often.”

In her lifetime, Zhou Jiao’e had not treated this daughter badly, but her temperament was volatile. With discord between mother-in-law and daughter-in-law, and a husband who didn’t love her, her own life was unhappy. She would often scold Hui Jie, taking out her frustrations on her daughter, only to regret it afterward, but then do the same thing again. Year after year, along with the lack of affection from her grandmother and father, Hui Jie had grown timid from childhood. During the past three years that Jiafu had lived in the Duke’s mansion, Zhou Jiao’e, out of jealousy, had not allowed her daughter to seek out Jiafu. But in her heart, Hui Jie harbored a deep admiration for this young aunt who appeared so gentle and whose smile was exceptionally beautiful. Tonight, with her mother’s sudden death, her wet nurse and maids were worried about their futures, making everyone anxious. They had disappeared somewhere, leaving her frightened, and unconsciously, she had found her way here.

Hui Jie stared at Jiafu with wide eyes for a moment, then tears welled up again.

Jiafu held the girl in her arms, gently patting her back.

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

At this moment, there was another commotion outside.

The wet nurse had finally discovered Hui Jie was missing and had tracked her here.

Jiafu gently laid Hui Jie down on the bed and had Tanxiang go out to deliver a message: Hui Jie was asleep and would spend the night here; she could come back to fetch her in the morning.

The wet nurse agreed submissively and backed out with a bow.

Jiafu covered the girl with a blanket, told Tanxiang and the others to go rest, and lay down on the outer side of the bed herself.

At the second watch, news came from the second branch that Pei Xiulu’s injuries were too severe, and he had just passed away.

Jiafu got up and dressed, hurrying over. Before she even entered the courtyard, she heard weeping. Walking in, she saw Cao Shi holding her one-year-old son, with several people surrounding the bed, weeping sorrowfully.

The imperial physician said, “Third Master’s injuries were too severe; I was powerless to save him…”

He sighed, bowed to Jiafu, and withdrew.

Second Madam sat at the edge of the bed, her eyes blood-red and vacant, staring fixedly at Jiafu. Gradually, her gaze shifted to the direction of the doorway behind Jiafu, as if she had seen something. Her eyes suddenly widened, staring intently, revealing an expression of terror.

Jiafu looked back and saw nothing behind her—the doorway was empty, pitch black outside, with no unusual objects.

Second Madam could no longer sit steadily. She slid to her knees on the floor, crying and kowtowing: “I beg you, spare my son… I didn’t mean to… Don’t come looking for me… I’ll burn paper money for you, I’ll hold memorial services for you, please go back, don’t come looking for me…”

“Second Madam! Second Madam!”

The maidservants called out in alarm, going to support her. Second Madam let out a loud cry, as if she had seen a ghost, pushed away those hands, and scrambled up from the ground. She turned and ran desperately, slamming into the wall with a “thud,” her eyes rolling back as she collapsed to the ground, unconscious.

The servants were both shocked and frightened, all looking toward Jiafu.

Jiafu had her carried back to her room and ordered the servants to attend to their duties. News also came from the first branch that Madam Xin had fallen ill as well, feverish and talking nonsense. Fortunately, Young Master Quan’s condition remained stable without further deterioration. Jiafu requested the imperial physician to examine and treat them again, afterward arranging for rest.

This chaotic night finally came to an end.

The following night, Pei You’an rushed back. After listening to Jiafu’s account of what had happened, he remained silent. Just then, a servant came to report that Pei Quan was outside requesting an audience.

Jiafu followed the entrance and saw Pei Quan leading his grandson, both standing in the courtyard. He looked haggard, his eyes swollen, appearing to have suddenly aged considerably. Upon seeing Pei You’an, before he could speak, he broke down in tears, lifting the hem of his robe as if about to kneel.

Pei You’an stepped forward and immediately helped him up, inviting Pei Quan to wait at the family ancestral hall first. After speaking, he noticed the child looking up at him with innocent eyes, confused. He patted the boy’s head, then called someone to summon Pei Xiuzhi as well, saying, “Tell him I have something to say.”

The servant acknowledged the order and hurried away.

Pei You’an was about to leave but stopped in his tracks.

He turned his head to look at Jiafu, who was standing inside the door gazing at him. He smiled at her, his smile immensely warm.

Jiafu returned his smile.

He nodded, then took the child’s hand and led him out.

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

That deep night, in the ancestral hall of the Duke’s mansion, candles burned brightly without extinguishing. Pei You’an, Pei Quan, and Pei Xiuzhi remained inside for a long time. Apart from the Pei ancestors, no one knew what he had said to them. The servants waiting outside the ancestral hall later only faintly heard Pei Xiuzhi’s weeping coming from inside.

After Pei You’an left, he remained kneeling before the ancestral tablets, not rising for a long time, until daybreak.

When Pei You’an returned to the room, it was nearly the fourth watch. Jiafu had been waiting for him, and hearing those familiar, steady footsteps, her heart rejoiced, and she immediately rushed to the door to greet him.

In this life, from their first meeting until now, in the blink of an eye, more than a decade had passed. She was no longer in the bloom of youth, and he had passed his thirtieth year, beginning to enter middle age. People around them had come and gone, like clouds gathering and dispersing, rights and wrongs hard to judge, but only their hearts remained unchanged.

Before him, she was forever that young girl who had called him “Elder 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 face, swiftly coming to meet him. The heaviness and regret that had lingered in his heart throughout the night instantly vanished like smoke.

Smiling, he picked her up and carried her to the bed, softly reproaching her for not sleeping.

Jiafu lay back on the pillow, tugging at his sleeve: “Without you returning, I won’t sleep!”

Pei You’an smiled, with a hint of indulgent helplessness. He removed his outer garment, lay down beside her, turned to his side, and drew her into his embrace with one arm, gently patting her back: “I’m back now, sleep.”

Jiafu habitually wrapped her arms around his waist.

“Elder Cousin, is there anything you need me to do?” she asked softly after a moment.

Pei You’an was silent for a moment.

“Fu’er, tomorrow the family will hold mourning. To the outside world, we’ll say there was a fire in the storehouse that spread, unfortunately causing casualties. I’ll handle external matters, as for the rest…”

“I understand,” Jiafu immediately nodded. “I’ve already instructed Tanxiang to move my things over in the morning. I’ll stay for some days to handle affairs.”

“Thank you for your hard work,” Pei You’an stroked her long hair.

Jiafu smiled at him: “It’s not hard for me. You’re the one who bears the burden.”

Pei You’an kissed her, finally holding her tightly in his arms and sighing: “Fu’er, Uncle will raise that child well. Xiuzhi has also sworn before the ancestors that from now on, he will strive to improve himself and take care of his mother and two children. Before coming back just now, I also went to see Madam Xin. Seeing her current state, I remembered the scene when she cursed before my father’s tablet when I was sixteen. Because of my birth, their lives were also changed. Like Madam Xin, who harbored resentment all her life, only now finding some release. Sometimes I have a strange thought—if I had never existed in this world, would their lives have been happier than they are now?”

Jiafu shook her head.

“Elder Cousin, some days ago, I was reading Buddhist scriptures about the suffering of human life. What are the eight sufferings? Birth, aging, sickness, death, separation from loved ones, not obtaining what one desires, meeting with hatred, and sorrow. Being born into this world, suffering follows like a shadow. The wise transcend it, while the unintelligent entangle themselves. Even without you, they would have had other sufferings in their lives. The root is not in you but in the human heart.”

“I don’t care about them. I only know, Elder Cousin, that without you, there would never be joy in my life. If I say that heaven arranged for you to come into this world, allowing me to live two lifetimes as a person, just to fulfill me, would you believe it or not?”

Pei You’an looked slightly surprised but didn’t interrupt, waiting for her to continue.

“Elder Cousin, do you still remember when you once said you didn’t know what you had done in your previous life to have me as your companion in this one? Do you remember how I responded to you?”

Without waiting for his reply, she continued: “I said that in your previous life, you had saved me, and in this life, I remembered it clearly. So even though you had forgotten me, I still clung to you.”

“I was telling the truth. Even if those were just dreams, only through what I experienced do I know how fortunate I am because of you, Elder Cousin.”

“In this lifetime, even with its imperfections, I am a blessed person.”

Her tone was exceptionally solemn.

Pei You’an gazed at her.

Jiafu nestled closer, her arms tightly embracing his neck, her lips against his ear, speaking softly:

“Elder Cousin, at that time, you were also my Elder Cousin, and I was your cousin’s sister, but I didn’t know how good you were, nor did I know the suffering you bore. I lived my days in a daze, and we were strangers to each other, until later, in the only reunion in my remaining life, when I was at my most desperate and helpless, you saved me without hesitation. Only then did I realize that in this world, there were men as upright and righteous as you. Having finally been given this lifetime, I remembered you, Elder Cousin. How could I possibly miss you again?”

In the depths of Pei You’an’s eyes, there was a fine light flickering.

“Fu’er, I want to hear you tell me about your previous life’s dream. I want to know how I saved you in your dream.”

Jiafu smiled, her fingertips lovingly caressing his lean yet handsome face, finally leaning in to kiss him: “Then you must be prepared. After all, it’s not a pleasant story.”

Pei You’an was slightly startled, then burst into laughter. He lifted Jiafu entirely and rolled with her on the bed, finally letting her lie on his chest.

Their eyes met, each seeing themselves reflected in the other’s pupils.

“Haven’t we already established our present life? You and I, Fu’er, will never be apart in this lifetime.”

Smiling, he gradually tightened his arms around her, until he held her firmly in his embrace.

Between them, there was not the slightest gap.

……

Afterword.

……

In the early morning, the mountain colors were clear, the morning sun rising, accompanied by melodious morning bell sounds. Outside the gate of the Imperial Cien Temple came a special pair of worshippers. The man was middle-aged, dressed in a blue robe and cloth shoes, tall, lean, and handsome—the attire of an ordinary scholar. The woman was extremely beautiful, and most remarkably, her eyes still shone as brightly as a young girl’s, with a slight smile at the corners of her lips. She wore no excessive decorations, but standing beside her husband at the mountain gate, they appeared genuinely noble, unlike ordinary people.

The monks naturally recognized this middle-aged couple. The abbot, upon hearing the news, personally came out to greet them as a sign of respect. He clasped his hands in greeting to the couple at the doorway. After the couple returned his greeting, they entered the gate and proceeded inside.

This man was Pei You’an, and the woman was Jiafu.

This year was the ninth year of Yongyi.

Two years earlier, Pei You’an, who had been appointed by the late Emperor as a regent minister, had returned power to the fourteen-year-old Emperor after years of regency. The young Emperor had begun to rule personally.

During these two years, Pei You’an had remained in court, assisting the Emperor, but gradually relinquished many court matters, allowing the Emperor to make decisions himself.

Three months ago, when the Emperor turned sixteen, the other regent, Zhang Shiyong, citing old age and frailty, submitted a retirement memorial. Grateful for his years of service as regent, the Emperor designated Zhang’s granddaughter as Empress, with the grand wedding to be held when the Emperor turned eighteen.

Subsequently, just as the borderlands had been peaceful for many years, trouble arose again. Pei You’an then submitted a memorial to the young Emperor, stating that he had been wrongly loved by the late Emperor, holding high positions for many years, walking on thin ice, and not daring to be negligent. Fortunately, the Emperor was a true dragon son of heaven, with outstanding talent. Now that he had come of age and personally ruled for two years, his majestic authority was respected throughout the realm. He was willing to serve the Emperor again, but his heart lay not in the court, but in the borderlands where he had shed blood in his youth. He requested to be sent to the border again, to serve the Emperor, the people of Great Wei, and also his own heart, to guard the frontier, imploring the Emperor to grant his wish.

The young Emperor refused, but Pei You’an was determined and submitted two more memorials.

After three memorials, the young Emperor tearfully approved, issuing an imperial edict that preserved all of Pei You’an’s titles from his nearly ten years as Imperial Tutor and Regent, without appointing anyone else. He was enfeoffed as Prince Jin, above all imperial clansmen, ranking first among princes, exempt from kneeling before the Emperor, with his princely estate to be passed down eternally, coexisting with the state.

During the past nearly ten years, Great Wei could be described as “every path traversable, every plan achievable, with a sage ruler and worthy ministers, bringing prosperity and peace to the time.” Pei You’an had managed state affairs with established prestige, while the young Emperor, as he gradually grew up, had also begun to show his capabilities in recent years. Not only was he steady and wise, but he also increasingly displayed the imperial bearing of one who rules over all under heaven. Court and commoners secretly discussed that Zhang Shiyong’s retirement was actually due to the young Emperor’s dissatisfaction with his factional tendencies in recent years, forced by subtle pressure. As for making his granddaughter Empress delayed the wedding for two years, it was a conciliatory strategy, both demonstrating the Emperor’s coming of age and appeasing the people. But who could say what would happen two years later?

Starting several years earlier, people had privately discussed that although in recent years the ruler and ministers had been harmonious, one was a regent minister with immense court influence, and the other was a brilliant young Emperor. After Pei You’an had held power for nearly ten years, for him to eventually return power to the Emperor would likely involve some twists and turns.

Unexpectedly, with three memorials and one edict, in just a few short months, before any storm could arise, court affairs had been settled.

Pei You’an would soon leave the capital. This morning, he had brought Jiafu out of the city. The two came together to the Imperial Cien Temple, leaving their attendants at the foot of the mountain. After entering the temple, they first paid respects at the Pei family’s ancestral hall, then paid respects to Duke Wei and the Grandmother, and finally arrived at the courtyard where his aunt had once resided. The couple entered and knelt in the courtyard, facing the direction of the residence and the late Emperor’s tomb, each performing the ritual of kowtowing. After the distant prostrations, they came out and conveyed a message to the monks that there was no need to keep this courtyard empty anymore; it could be put to use, which should also be the wish of the Tianxi Yuan Empress.

The couple wandered in the temple until the evening before taking their leave, being escorted by monks outside the mountain gate.

Pei You’an held Jiafu’s hand, leading her down the mountain. Halfway down, they stopped and stood on the winding mountain path to watch the setting sun together. They saw mountains everywhere, layer upon layer dyed golden, birds returning to their nests, and a beautiful forested landscape like a painting.

Pei You’an smiled and said: “Li Yishan’s poem ‘The sunset is infinitely beautiful, only it is near dusk’ is an immortal verse, but it’s a bit too melancholic. Who says that near dusk isn’t good? After tonight, tomorrow will bring another sunrise. In my humble opinion, I would change it to ‘The sunset is infinitely beautiful, riding the eastern dawn all night.’ What do you think, Fu’er?”

Jiafu laughed and scolded him teasingly: “How bold of you to criticize Yi Shan’s poetry! Why don’t you quote the first two lines of Li Yishan’s poem? ‘As evening approaches, I feel unwell, driving my carriage to ascend the ancient plateau.’ With such a state of mind, how could he write your ‘riding the eastern dawn all night’?”

Pei You’an was in high spirits and laughed heartily, his laughter echoing through the forest, startling nearby birds to flutter their wings and fly into the sky.

As the sun retreated, he continued to hold her hand as they descended, returning to the foot of the mountain. The two rode in the same carriage back, with Jiafu leaning in her husband’s embrace. Halfway through the journey, she suddenly heard his voice: “Fu’er, in a few days, you will be following me to the border regions. I’m sorry for the hardship this will cause you.”

Jiafu sat up straight and saw him gazing at her, his eyes full of deep emotion, his silence conveying more than a thousand words. She smiled radiantly: “Elder Cousin, Ci’er will surely fulfill his position. From now on, you and I have no more worries. Wherever you are is where my heart is directed. If you read by the window, I will brew tea and add fragrance for you. If you don armor for battle, I will wait for your return. Together, how can there be hardship?”

Pei You’an embraced her: “Fu’er, no wonder in the depths of my heart, I always yearn for Su Ye City. If that place truly is where I was buried in my prime in a previous life, then in this life, how fortunate I am. Because of you, the city where I was buried in my previous life has become my hometown in this life. Most people’s lives are filled with dissatisfaction, and so is mine, but how many can be like me, finding completeness of heart because of you?”

He kissed her tenderly, sighing with contentment.

The carriage entered the city and stopped at the door of the mansion, close to the third watch.

Pei You’an alighted from the carriage and helped Jiafu down. Jiafu stood firm and saw a tall horse stopped by the hitching stone at the entrance. The horse had golden bridles and jade reins, looking magnificent and spirited, exceptionally handsome. Upon seeing her appear, it seemed to recognize her, lightly tapping its front hoof on the ground, happily swishing its tail.

Jiafu recognized it at once—this was Taxue (Stepping on Snow). Many years ago, Pei You’an had sent it to the Imperial Stables to accompany Ci’er as he grew up. After Ci’er turned ten, it had become his mount, staying with him until now.

She never expected to suddenly see Taxue here at this moment tonight.

Jiafu’s heart suddenly raced, and she hurried inside. Before she could speak, the doorkeeper had already knelt, saying that His Majesty the Emperor had come in plain clothes tonight and was waiting for the two of them in the study, still not having left.

Jiafu and her husband exchanged a glance, then hurried to the rear hall to Pei You’an’s study. They saw Cui Yinshui standing at the door. Seeing them enter, she quickly came forward, bowing and saying, “Sir, Madam, His Majesty is inside…”

Jiafu left her husband behind, pushed open the half-closed study door, and stepped in. Looking up, she saw a handsome young man sitting quietly behind the desk. His features were like a painting, his bearing extraordinary, yet with an implicit dignity in his brow. Dressed in a blue garment, he held Pei You’an’s brush in his hand, slightly lowering his head, seemingly absorbed in writing something.

On the desk beside him was the stack of childhood practice writings that Pei You’an had kept to this day. The paper had turned yellow but was bound neatly page by page. The strokes on the paper were childish scrawls, yet they showed the seriousness with which they had been written.

Jiafu suddenly stopped in her tracks, staring fixedly at the young man’s figure, unable to move for a moment.

The young man was startled by the sound of footsteps and finally looked up, gazing at Jiafu without blinking. Slowly, he put down the brush, suddenly stood up, and quickly came before her. This young man who now stood taller than her, just like when he was a child, reached out and tightly grabbed her sleeve, calling out “Mother,” and lowered himself to kneel before her.

In an instant, Jiafu’s tears flowed, and she tightly embraced her son’s head, gently stroking his hair.

Pei You’an stood outside the door, quietly watching this scene, neither entering nor interrupting.

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

She had wiped away her tears, and though the young man’s eyes were also slightly red, his face wore a smile. He led Jiafu to the table, pointed at the calligraphy he had just been practicing, and said, “Mother, look, has my writing improved from when I was a child?”

Jiafu couldn’t help feeling both saddened and joyful, forcing herself to hold back tears that threatened to spill over. She looked at each piece, continuously nodding in praise.

The young man stood to the side, silently gazing at his still young and beautiful mother, his eyes smiling, his gaze full of tenderness.

He looked up and saw the figure standing outside the door. Then he helped Jiafu sit down and walked toward the doorway.

The tender smile that had been on the young man’s face when facing Jiafu had now disappeared. With a solemn expression, he walked step by step to the tall, mountain-like man. They gazed at each other for a moment, and then he slowly knelt before him.

“Father, I came here tonight to finish that game of chess with you that we never completed years ago,” the young man said, respectfully kowtowing to the ground.

……

The young man took out the chessboard that Pei You’an had made for him with his own hands when he was three years old.

The board had aged, but the pieces, in the places they were often touched, still shone like new.

When Pei You’an first saw it, for a moment, he was dazed, as if returning to the days of old.

That night, a father had played chess with his son. Halfway through, he had gone out for something, and when he returned, his son had fallen asleep on the chessboard. After waking up, the son still remembered the unfinished game, and his father had said he remembered the board position and would definitely finish the game with him when there was time.

“Father, you may not know that over these years in the palace, when I found it hard to sleep late at night, I would take out the chessboard, split my mind in two, and play against myself. I know you are a master of chess. Today, I’d like to ask you to assess my skill.”

Pei You’an took a chess piece, his thumb lightly stroking the smooth wood grain. He took a long breath, closed his eyes, contemplated for a moment, then opened his eyes and placed the piece in his hand on a position on the board.

One piece after another, soon the unfinished game from years ago appeared before the young man.

He smiled slightly at the young man across from him: “Is it like this?”

The young man slowly raised his gaze, his eyes flickering with a slight gleam, and nodded.

……

This game of chess continued until the fifth watch.

When the rooster crowed, the outcome was finally decided.

Pei You’an lost the game due to a single-piece error.

He examined the board, dropped the piece, and shook his head, sighing: “I’m getting old, not as calculating as you.”

The young man smiled: “Father is just letting me win. How could I not know? Just like how, for all these years, to put my mind at ease, my parents have had no more brothers or sisters for me…”

He turned his head, gazing at his beautiful mother who had succumbed to fatigue and was curled up on the couch, covered with his father’s outer garment. After a moment, he lowered his voice and said, “Father, I was ignorant before, but now I have grown up. For several years, I have been hoping for Mother to give me a younger sibling. If this wish could be fulfilled, Ci’er would have no more regrets in this life.”

Pei You’an looked at his beloved wife, who was completely unaware of her dreams, and a smile slowly appeared on his lips.

The young man packed the chess pieces back one by one, finally putting away the chessboard, and holding it tightly in his hand like a treasure. Finally, he stood up, knelt again to Pei You’an and Jiafu, solemnly kowtowed, and said, “Father, Taxue is more suited to the vast lands of the border regions. It enjoys galloping freely, and the palace is like a cage for it. I’m giving it to you.”

“Father, please continue to take good care of Mother for me.”

He took one last look at the woman still in her dreams, then turned and left with quick steps.

Pei You’an watched as the young man’s blue figure went out the door, growing more distant. After being lost in thought for a moment, he carried the sleeping Jiafu back to their room.

Half asleep and half awake, Jiafu rested her face against her husband’s warm chest, comfortably nuzzling, when suddenly she remembered something. She quickly grabbed her husband’s arm and opened her eyes: “Where is Ci’er?”

Pei You’an said, “After finishing the chess game, he left.”

Jiafu quickly got down from his arms and ran out. When she reached the courtyard, she saw the faint morning light in the east, the gate open, and dewdrops glistening on the tree branches. The surroundings were empty, with no sign of the handsome young man.

She stood there for a moment.

Pei You’an came up and placed the outer garment that had fallen from her back onto her shoulders, saying softly, “I was afraid you would cry, so I didn’t wake you earlier.”

Jiafu’s eyes were already red. She threw herself into her husband’s arms, closing her eyes and choking with emotion: “Did Ci’er say anything?”

Pei You’an bent down and whispered something unknown in her ear. Jiafu broke into a smile through her tears, her face blushing. She pushed him away and ignored him, turning to go back inside.

Having reached middle age, if fortunate enough to have another child with her…

That would be quite nice.

Pei You’an, watching his charming wife’s figure, smiled slightly. With his hands behind his back, he followed her inside at a leisurely pace.