Dou Zhao’s face gradually turned pale upon hearing this.

Chen Qu Shui forced a bitter smile. A coward who abandoned the city and disregarded the lives of the common people! A sinner! Anyone who learned of his past would surely scoff at him.

He lowered his head and murmured, “Miss, I’m getting old. My knees ache terribly whenever it rains or the wind blows. I fear I can no longer serve you. Once the rain stops, I will return to Zhen Ding…”

The hall fell silent, with Dou Zhao neither urging him to stay nor facilitating his departure. The oppressive quiet made the sound of the rain outside even more pronounced, rendering the hall more tranquil.

Chen Qu Shui looked up in surprise, seeing Dou Zhao sitting in a daze, her eyes unfocused.

Alarmed, he called out, “Fourth Miss! What’s wrong with you?”

Dou Zhao was lost in thought, not fully registering what Chen Qu Shui had said. She was trying hard to recall past events.

In her previous life, shortly after the Jiang family fell from grace, the Duchess of Ying had passed away while still in mourning, and Song Mo had been expelled from the Duke’s residence, his whereabouts unknown.

She had not experienced any of this.

Song Mo was a year younger than her. At that time, she was solely focused on how to marry into the Ji Ning Marquisate, indifferent to anyone or anything outside of it. It wasn’t until she married the Ji Ning Marquisate and entered the noble circles of the capital that she heard fragmented stories about those events.

The Duke Ding had established his family through military merit, and his sons were typically sent to the military for training as soon as they turned fourteen. Many rose to positions of power and wealth, but even more faded into obscurity on the battlefield. To ensure a prosperous lineage, the Jiang family habitually took in concubines, with little distinction between legitimate and illegitimate children. All were trained in martial arts and educated at the Jiang family academy, judged solely on their ability to lead troops. This practice drew criticism from the noble families of the capital. However, it also led to the Jiang family producing many renowned generals, with connections spread across the country.

Jiang Meisun was the sixth Duke Ding. He had twelve brothers, of whom only five reached adulthood. In the third year of Yongming, he was ordered to guard Fujian. Except for his youngest brother, Jiang Baishun, who remained in the capital due to his youth, his second brother Jiang Zhushun, third brother Jiang Lanshun, and fourth brother Jiang Songsun accompanied him south.

In the eighth year of Yongming, Jiang Zhushun died in battle, and the emperor posthumously honored him as the Marquis of Qinghai.

During Jiang Meisun’s eighteen years as the Fujian General, he achieved remarkable military success, nearly eradicating the coastal pirates. As a result, merchant ships in Fujian and Zhejiang dared not venture out to sea during the day, causing great distress among the southern merchants and wealthy gentry, leading to many enemies. Yet, he maintained good relations with several cabinet ministers, and despite the censors’ repeated accusations against him, he remained unscathed, enjoying the emperor’s favor. Gradually, no one dared to challenge him.

However, for reasons unknown, a censor suddenly accused Jiang Meisun of killing innocents for personal gain and harboring bandits. After receiving the memorial, the emperor not only summoned him for questioning but also ordered the Jin Yi Wei to escort the Jiang brothers to the capital for interrogation.

What was even more puzzling was that Jiang Meisun and his brother Jiang Lanshun died under torture on their way back to the capital, while Jiang Songsun, who had just been imprisoned in the Dali Temple, committed suicide out of fear of punishment. The entire Jiang family was subsequently executed.

It was said that the matriarch of the Jiang family, Madam Mei, upon receiving the imperial edict, took the Jiang women, including her three-year-old and two-year-old granddaughters, and all committed suicide by poison as the Jin Yi Wei raided their home.

When the executions took place at Caishikou, only the men of the Jiang family were present; no women were seen.

In the years that followed, no one could resist the pirates in Fujian, and there were frequent reports of massacres on the coast.

Whenever the people of the capital heard such news, they would shake their heads and sigh, “If only the Duke Ding were still alive…”

After the King of Liao ascended the throne, he cleared the Jiang family’s name. A portrait of Jiang Meisun was placed in the Loyalty Temple, and the Duke Ding’s residence, which had been granted to the late Princess Ningde, was reclaimed. The King of Liao even summoned Song Mo to inquire if any members of the Jiang family had survived.

However, Song Mo replied that there were no descendants of the Jiang family left.

Rumors persisted that Jiang Meisun’s youngest brother, Jiang Baishun, had an illegitimate son who was still alive. When the Jiang family fell from grace, a loyal servant had secretly taken the child away and raised him in a remote alley.

When the wife of the Marquis of Xuan Ning told her about this, she laughed, saying, “Since the entire family was executed, the Jin Yi Wei must have counted the numbers. Not to mention Jiang Baishun’s son, even the personal servants and notable stewards wouldn’t be missed. Those commoners just love to spin tales, making it seem like good people always get their just rewards…”

Calculating the timeline, Song Mo was expelled from his home in the fourteenth year of Chengping.

Going further back, the Duchess of Ying must have passed away in the summer of the fourteenth year of Chengping… or perhaps in the spring or winter of the thirteenth year of Chengping…

The Jiang family’s downfall likely occurred in the thirteenth year of Chengping.

Now it was April of the thirteenth year of Chengping…

Dou Zhao jumped up.

This meant that Jiang Meisun could have been summoned for questioning around this time!

Dou Zhao thought of the infant who was not yet a hundred days old.

She broke into a cold sweat and asked Chen Qu Shui, “Mr. Chen, do you think something has happened to the Duke Ding?”

Chen Qu Shui was taken aback by Dou Zhao’s question, pondering, “That shouldn’t be the case, right? The Duke Ding appears rough but is meticulous. He keeps everything in mind. As a general guarding a region, if something were to happen, there should be news. We haven’t heard anything, and the Duke has a very close relationship with Zeng Yifen…”

As he spoke, his expression stiffened as he looked at Dou Zhao.

Dou Zhao was also gazing at him.

Their eyes met, and they simultaneously exclaimed, “Zeng Yifen is dead now…”

Yes, Zeng Yifen was dead. The cabinet was in a transitional phase, and several cabinet elders were preoccupied with their matters, leaving no time to deal with Jiang Meisun, who was far away in Fujian.

If anyone had a grudge against Jiang Meisun, this was the perfect opportunity to strike.

“Could it be that something happened to the Duke?” Chen Qu Shui’s forehead began to bead with sweat. “Then, what about that child…”

“Entrusted with the care!” Dou Zhao said, exhaling deeply.

Only care entrusted to someone could allow for such secrecy, enabling the heir of Duke Ying, Song Mo, to travel lightly, personally escorted by skilled protectors.

She worked to calm her racing thoughts and said coolly, “For now, we can only pretend we know nothing.” Then she looked up at the ceiling and murmured, “I hope this rain stops soon. Even if it doesn’t, I hope it lightens up.”

They needed to set out early to continue their journey.

However, Chen Qu Shui’s expression turned grim. He looked at Dou Zhao with an expression that suggested he found it hard to speak, and quietly said, “I’m afraid things aren’t that simple…”

Dou Zhao furrowed her brows, listening intently.

“Did you notice the scholar in green standing next to Young Master Song?” Chen Qu Shui said with difficulty. “His surname is Yan, given name Yun, courtesy name Chaoqing. He was one of the Duke Ding’s most capable aides. When I left Fujian, I heard he had caught the eye of the Duke’s sister—the Duchess of Ying—and was to become a tutor for her son. I recognized him, which is why I suspected that the young master was Duke Ying’s heir, Song Mo.”

Dou Zhao understood and quickly asked, “Did that man recognize you?”

“Yan Chaoqing was a favored aide of the Duke, while I was merely one of Zhang Kai’s many aides. However, this man is meticulous and has an excellent memory. He was once tasked with managing the documents of the General’s Office,” Chen Qu Shui admitted. “As soon as I saw him, I hurried back to my room. I don’t know if he saw me or not.”

Song Mo had not slept either.

The room was unlit, and he stood by the open window, gazing at the torrential rain outside, his expression calm.

A gust of wind blew, scattering the rain like threads, filling the air with a dampness.

A small figure emerged silently from the darkness, stopping three feet away from Song Mo. He respectfully said, “Young Master, please be careful not to get wet. Would you like me to close the window?”

Song Mo ignored him and asked, “Has Mr. Yan not returned yet?”

Just as the man was about to respond, he suddenly tilted his head to listen, then smiled and said, “Young Master, Mr. Yan has arrived.”

Song Mo nodded and turned to sit in a nearby armchair.

Yan Chaoqing entered, soaked, along with a somewhat simple-looking man, water dripping from their clothes onto the blue-brick floor.

“Young Master.” The two bowed to Song Mo, who gestured for them to sit.

The small figure, unaffected by the night, quickly poured tea for both men and then silently retreated into the shadows.

Song Mo asked in a calm tone, “What have you found out?”

Yan Chaoqing and the man exchanged glances, both revealing slightly bitter smiles. “Young Master, I’m afraid we’re in trouble this time!”

Song Mo looked at them with a serene expression.

The man who had come with Yan Chaoqing said, “We encountered an aide of Zhang Kai.” He recounted the grievances between Jiang Meisun and Zhang Kai. “This man’s surname is Chen, given name Bo, courtesy name Qu Shui, and he is known as Yue Chuan. He is well-versed in documents and adept at discerning people’s characters. His words are sharp, possessing the talent of Zhang Yi. When Zhang Kai attacked Dubei Wulilang, it was this man who persuaded the Zhejiang Governor An Daoyuan to send troops to assist. He is currently working as an accountant for this household.”

“Can you be sure?” Song Mo’s face finally showed a serious expression.

“Absolutely!” Yan Chaoqing replied firmly. “Xu Qing and I lay outside his door for nearly half an hour, and he seemed very anxious, constantly sending servants to inquire if the Fourth Miss of the Dou family was awake as if he had something to say to her. It seems he recognized us.”

Song Mo fell silent for a moment and then said softly, “With a skilled protector who has reached the pinnacle of martial arts and an accountant who has served as an aide to Zhang Kai, along with a dozen capable attendants, this Fourth Miss of the Dou family is indeed not simple. Xu Qing,” he smiled and instructed the man who had come with Yan Chaoqing, “keep a close watch on this residence. Don’t let anyone in or out.” He then turned to Yan Chaoqing and said, “We may have to stay here for another day. You should rest early!”

Yan Chaoqing and Xu Qing’s expressions tightened.

Their whereabouts had already been exposed, and the young master’s words implied a need to silence them.

Xu Qing hesitated, “There are more than twenty of them…”

“Then we must be even more cautious,” Song Mo replied, unfazed, his tone light.

The two said no more, nodded in agreement, and withdrew.

Song Mo regarded the night as inconsequential, calmly moving through the furnishings of the room, and lifting the curtain to enter the warm chamber at the back.

The warm chamber was lit only by a small oil lamp.

The gentle-faced wet nurse lay beside the infant, and upon hearing movement, she immediately sat up alertly. Seeing it was Song Mo, she sighed in relief and softly called out, “Young Master,” preparing to get up.

Song Mo gestured for her not to wake the child, then bent down to gently stroke the baby’s dark hair, smiling, “Is the child well?” His smile was warm, and in the soft light, it radiated peace and tranquility, instantly putting one at ease.

The wet nurse nodded, her smile blooming. “The young master is very well-behaved, not crying or fussing.” As she spoke, she thought of the child’s mother, who had taken her own life to keep the secret, and tears welled in her eyes.

“Don’t worry,” Song Mo comforted her gently, “we’ll be there soon.”

The wet nurse nodded vigorously, her gaze filled with trust.

Song Mo stood tall and walked out of the warm chamber.