Dou Zhao recognized Song Mo.

Although Song Mo was still young and her appearance was quite youthful, she recognized him at a glance. By that time, Song Mo had already made a name for herself in the capital. After the death of her mother-in-law, she established herself in the Ji Ning Marquisate. Yet, inexplicably, she did not want others to know. She quietly took her five-year-old daughter to Zhen Ding to attend the funeral. On their way back to the capital, they encountered heavy rain, and their carriage got stuck in the mud, breaking a wheel. They had no choice but to rest at the home of a local gentry.

At that moment, she felt utterly exhausted, as if a part of her had vanished along with her mother-in-law’s death. The slightest wind or rain made her feel powerless. Leaning against the large bed by the window in the host’s inner chamber, she closed her eyes to rest. When she opened them again, she found that Yin Jie’er was missing.

Panic surged within her, and she was too drained to even curse. She threw on a cloak and stepped outside, searching for her daughter. She made her way to the corridor in the front yard, where she happened to encounter Song Mo, who was also seeking shelter from the rain.

He was squatting under the eaves, listening intently to Yin Jie’er, who was animatedly explaining, “…It’s called dogtail grass. Look, doesn’t it sway like a dog’s tail?”

The rain poured down in torrents, creating a curtain of water that separated the eaves from the corridor.

He wore a dark coarse robe, its edges trimmed with white linen, and he had no adornments on him, exuding a simple elegance. His delicate, fair face resembled glazed porcelain, radiating a refined glow in the dim light. His dark eyes sparkled like bright jewels, shining brilliantly.

The heavily armored guards stood silently in the courtyard, motionless like statues, allowing the rain to wash over their armor.

Yin Jie’er’s youthful voice chirped like a little sparrow, clearly echoing in the courtyard.

He listened attentively to her innocent chatter as if nothing in the world mattered more. He nodded occasionally, responding with “Is that so?” “I never knew that,” and “There’s such a thing?”

She was taken aback, instinctively gesturing for the maid and the old woman to stop calling out. She stood quietly, watching her daughter’s flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes, unable to make a sound, fearing that any noise would ruin the beautiful scene before her.

“Mother and I are here to attend Grandma Tuo’s funeral. Why are you here?” her daughter asked, blinking her big eyes.

He smiled and gently brushed the dogtail grass that Yin Jie’er held in her hand, making it sway drunkenly.

“I’m here to pay respects to my sister!”

“Why didn’t you bring your daughter? My mother takes me everywhere!”

“I have no children.”

“Why don’t you have children? Everyone has children.”

“I simply don’t have children.” He gently stroked Yin Jie’er’s hair, his touch so tender, as if she were a fragile porcelain doll. Yet, a deep sorrow flickered in his eyes. “Not everyone is fit to be a parent…” he said, suddenly breaking into a radiant smile that lit up the courtyard, then stood up, patted Yin Jie’er on the shoulder, and said softly, “Alright, hurry back to your mother. Be careful; she might be worried if she can’t find you.”

Yin Jie’er nodded vigorously and scampered back toward the rear courtyard.

He stood there, watching her figure disappear around the corner of the corridor before turning to face the guards standing with their hands behind their backs. A chilling aura filled the courtyard, causing Dou Zhao to shiver involuntarily.

A man dressed in a bright red third-rank Jin Yi Wei robe approached, his expression respectful as he hurried past the armored guards. He knelt humbly before him, bowing his head and whispering something. Dou Zhao suddenly realized she had seen something she shouldn’t have and quickly retreated to the back courtyard.

She felt a gaze upon her, prickling like a thorn in her back, but she didn’t dare look back. Instead, she quickened her pace, almost fleeing toward the inner courtyard.

The next morning, the gentry’s wife nervously informed her that the esteemed Commander Song had briefly stayed at their home the previous night. Only then did she realize that the strikingly handsome man was none other than the famous Song Mo.

From that day on, she never saw him again. Yet, his attentive expression while listening to her daughter’s words remained etched in her heart.

Sometimes, she wondered why so many women, despite knowing his notorious reputation, willingly followed him. He must have a good side.

She also speculated whether he had recognized her that day. And she pondered who that “sister” he was paying respects to could be—after all, Duke Ying had only two sons and no daughters.

Little did she expect that after so many years, she would encounter him again.

Dou Zhao rubbed her face, which felt stiff from a sleepless night, and asked Su Xin, “What time is it now?”

Su Xin first looked anxious, then panicked, having also spent the night awake. Seeing Dou Zhao’s restless demeanor, she quickly got up to check the hourglass. “It’s just past the hour of Yin. Miss, you should sleep a little longer!”

Dou Zhao sat up. “I can’t sleep anyway; I might as well get up.” She then inquired about the guests who were staying. “Have they left yet?”

“Where could they go?” Su Xin replied, helping Dou Zhao lift one side of the curtain with a silver hook shaped like a phoenix, “The rain is getting heavier; we could swim ducks in the courtyard.”

Dou Zhao listened intently.

The raindrops continued to patter against the roof like scattered beans.

She recalled passing by Duke Ying’s residence once, where the thick, ancient trees spread their canopies like umbrellas, lush and green, sprawling over the mottled walls. Though in decline, it still exuded an ancient charm, rich and serene, as if frozen in time.

She instructed Su Xin, “Go tell Duan Gongyi and Chen Xiaofeng that whatever those people want to do, let them do it. Try to be courteous and avoid any conflict. See them off respectfully.”

Su Xin was taken aback.

The Dou family was a prominent household, and the fourth miss was not one to shy away from trouble. Yet, her tone now conveyed a sense of fear and retreat.

She recalled Dou Zhao’s pale face from the previous night.

Could it be that the fourth miss sensed something?

Were these people so formidable that even she dared not offend them?

Dou Zhao noticed Su Xin’s confusion but couldn’t explain.

Duke Ying’s residence was located in a lane called Jiao Zhongfang in the northern part of the city, occupying the entire lane. The Duke had been in power for over a hundred years, enjoying great favor. Old residents of the capital referred to it as Duke Ying Lane, rarely knowing its original name. After Song Mo killed his father and brother, it was said that people in the nearby lanes often heard wails in the dead of night. Those with any means quickly moved away. What was once a central location in the capital gradually became desolate, inhabited by the lowest of the low. Even so, no one dared to approach the now-empty Duke Ying’s residence, watching helplessly as it fell into ruin day by day.

Dou Zhao believed she could not afford to provoke such people.

“Don’t ask; just follow my orders,” she repeatedly urged Su Xin.

Su Xin nodded solemnly and went to inform Duan Gongyi. When she returned, she looked hesitant and said softly, “Fourth Miss, it seems Mr. Chen hasn’t slept all night either. When I went out just now, his servant asked if you were awake, saying Mr. Chen had sent him to check on you several times.”

Dou Zhao was somewhat surprised.

Could it be that Mr. Chen had also sensed something?

Although Mr. Chen was tight-lipped about his past, through their interactions over the past two years, she had come to realize that he was not an ordinary person.

Dou Zhao quickly said, “Please invite Mr. Chen to the hall for tea.”

Su Xin complied and left.

Gan Lu came to assist her with her grooming and dressing.

Su Lan helped by passing her small items like handkerchiefs and socks while quietly speaking to Dou Zhao, “Fourth Miss, what kind of person do you think the young master who stayed at our house is? He’s so handsome! I’ve never seen anyone so beautiful. I wonder where he’s from and what business he’s here for…”

Dou Zhao looked at Su Lan’s eyes filled with admiration and chuckled, teasing, “I might as well send you to be his maid!”

“No, no!” Su Lan immediately jumped up, pouting in dissatisfaction. “Miss, you’re joking again. I just think he’s very handsome, and it’s hard to look away, but that doesn’t mean I’d want to be his maid! I don’t even know who he is or if he’s a good person or a bad person…”

Dou Zhao found it amusing.

Countless noblewomen in the capital loved to gossip about Song Mo in private, yet in public, if anyone mentioned his name, they would sit up straight as if they had never heard of him, far less candid than Su Lan.

Gan Lu laughed and scolded Su Lan, “You know the miss is just joking, right? Why do you care where he’s from or where he’s going?”

Su Lan giggled, playfully handing a hairpin to Gan Lu, who helped Dou Zhao pin it in place.

Dou Zhao smiled slightly.

Since the incident with Pang Kunbai, the barriers between Gan Lu, Su Juan, and the Bie sisters had vanished. They spoke and acted like sisters, and the atmosphere in Dou Zhao’s room became warm and lively.

Mr. Chen appeared weary, with dark circles under his eyes and a serious expression, clearly having had a restless night.

He requested Dou Zhao to dismiss the maidservants in the room.

“Fourth Miss, I’m afraid we’ve gotten ourselves into trouble,” Chen Qu Shui said solemnly. “That group of people is not simple. I suspect that young master is the heir of Duke Ying, Song Mo.”

His words struck like a thunderbolt, startling Dou Zhao. She asked, “How did you figure that out?”

Chen Qu Shui fell silent for a moment before quietly saying, “I’ve been fortunate to receive your affection, yet I’ve never mentioned where I was during those years I wasn’t in Zhen Ding…” He spoke, his eyes revealing a hint of sorrow. “During those years, I was in Fuzhou, serving as an aide to the Fujian Governor Zhang Kai.”

He sensed that Dou Zhao might not know who Zhang Kai was and, suppressing his shame, explained, “Thirteen years ago, when the pirates besieged Fuzhou, Lord Zhang abandoned the city and fled, only to be captured by the Duke Ding, Jiang Meisun, and executed. According to the rules, we, the aides and clerks of Lord Zhang, were to be executed as well to set an example. However, Duke Jiang said that in the face of a great enemy, we must unite and face the threat together. As long as we weren’t the main culprits, we had the chance to redeem ourselves and were released, allowed to serve as officials in the governor’s office, redeeming our crimes.”