On a mid-autumn noon, the sun blazed fiercely, making people feel hot and restless. Dou Zhao felt sweat forming on her back.

She glanced at the still somewhat messy courtyard and smiled, “Everyone, go have lunch first. We can tidy up in the afternoon.”

The Dou family provided three meals a day. Several old women cheerfully expressed their thanks and followed Ganlu to the kitchen.

Su Juan brought water for Dou Zhao to wash her face and hands. The slightly cool water made Dou Zhao sigh with comfort.

After lunch and a short rest, she stood under the veranda, gazing at the courtyard, pondering how to arrange it.

Suddenly, Song Mo’s voice came from behind, “What are you doing?”

Dou Zhao wasn’t surprised. Since he had managed to stay here, he naturally found a way to talk to her.

“I’m thinking of planting some flowering trees in the yard,” Dou Zhao said without looking at him, still surveying the courtyard. “This way, when winter comes, the yard won’t be so bare and desolate.”

Song Mo remained silent, standing at the other end of the veranda, quietly observing the courtyard like her.

The wind blew through the ginkgo tree, scattering golden leaves on the ground, seemingly adding a touch of warmth to the approaching cold winter.

“My third uncle… passed away,” he said abruptly. “He died in Tieling Wei…” His voice was steady as if he had pondered long before speaking, his tone solemn. “My fifth uncle has lived under my eldest uncle’s shadow for so many years. He knows every detail of the Eight Great Hutongs, yet he’s clueless about how many servants we have at home!”

Was this why Jiang Meisong had entrusted Song Mo with the Jiang family’s information network in the capital?

“None of us dares to tell grandmother,” Song Mo’s voice was as clear as usual, but now tinged with confusion, revealing his low spirits. “Father wants me to use the excuse of paying respects to my third uncle to visit Liaodong, greet the Prince of Liao, and ask him to look after my fifth uncle and several cousins… But during the recent autumn hunt, I only came second, losing the position of Deputy Commander of the Imperial Guard to the Emperor… The Emperor scolded me harshly, even threatening to send me to Fengtai Camp… Men traditionally come of age at fifteen. But the Emperor usually doesn’t care about such things. Master Yan fears the Emperor might issue an edict sending me to Fengtai Camp, so he suggested I stay at home to reflect, also to gauge the Emperor’s reaction.”

“I should be setting off for Liaodong in a day or two…”

Although Song Mo’s tone wasn’t specific, Dou Zhao, having been a Marquise for over a decade, immediately understood what he meant about the daily life of noble families.

The Jiang family had encountered trouble, yet the Emperor still favored Song Mo; in her previous life, Song Mo had left the capital in disgrace, his reputation in tatters.

As Master Yan said, at this time, it was best to stay at home and reflect. Going to Liaodong wasn’t a good choice. What were Duke of Ying and Lady Jiang thinking?

On one side was her brother, but on the other was her son.

Dou Zhao couldn’t help but look at Song Mo.

He was staring blankly at the ginkgo tree in the courtyard, his face unable to hide his sadness and loneliness.

Yes, sadness and loneliness.

Just like the expression he had when he crouched down to talk to his daughter in her previous life.

At that time, he held a high position and great power, surrounded by beautiful women and numerous guards.

Yet he still felt lonely.

In this life, he was in his prime, basking in imperial favor, his name known throughout the capital.

He still felt just as lonely.

The young man with traces of childishness and the mature, steady man gradually merged into one person in Dou Zhao’s eyes.

Perhaps no one had ever truly understood him.

Whether in the previous life or this one, whether in times of prosperity or when glory had faded, he had always been alone!

Dou Zhao’s heart ached unexpectedly.

She called out loudly, “Song Mo,” and said, “I’ve planted many chrysanthemums in the back garden. It’s the flowering season now, and I plan to build a chrysanthemum mountain in the courtyard. Can you lend me a hand?”

“What?” Song Mo was stunned.

He thought he had misheard.

No one had ever so boldly ordered him around before.

Yet strangely, he felt a sense of straightforward intimacy.

“I said, help me transplant the chrysanthemums from the back garden into flower pots,” Dou Zhao’s voice was clear and pleasant, making it hard not to hear clearly. “Then bring the pots to the front courtyard to build a chrysanthemum mountain.”

She repeated slowly once more.

The large ceramic flower pots, as thick as a man’s embrace, were nothing to Song Mo. But when filled with soil and planted with a tall azalea tree in full bloom, careful not to damage its flowers and leaves, they became quite heavy to move.

Song Mo couldn’t help but say, “Weren’t we supposed to transplant chrysanthemums? Why are we now moving azalea trees?”

“If simply arranging chrysanthemums on a conical frame could be called a chrysanthemum mountain, how could Yang Jintai be called a master?” Dou Zhao, with a blue cloth covering her head, squatted in the flower bed digging up chrysanthemums. Without looking up, she spoke leisurely.

Song Mo was speechless.

One of his guards, seeing this, was about to step forward but was stopped by Chen He.

He glared at the guard, signaling him not to act rashly.

Su Xin, standing silently to the side, kept her eyes lowered, pretending not to see anything.

The old woman working with Dou Zhao in the flower bed felt sorry for Song Mo. One exclaimed, “Oh my! Looking at your delicate skin, I can tell you’ve never done such work. Put it down, put it down! We’ll move them.”

“He’s a young man. Surely he’s not weaker than you?” Dou Zhao looked up at Song Mo, then lowered her head to continue digging chrysanthemums.

Song Mo gritted his teeth and followed Dou Zhao’s instructions, moving azaleas, then camellias, then chrysanthemums, and finally building wooden frames. By the time the sun was setting in the west, he was drenched in sweat from head to toe.

Yet the wild rage in his heart had completely dissipated.

He stood there, dazed.

Dou Zhao must have known about the unresolvable resentment in his heart, so she used the excuse of building a chrysanthemum mountain to let him vent his anger through labor, right?

Song Mo lowered his eyelids.

When he heard the news of his third uncle’s death, it felt like a violent beast was rampaging in his heart, almost tearing him apart, but he couldn’t show the slightest sign of distress.

His mother was waiting for him to comfort her, his father was waiting for him to make decisions, his younger brother was waiting for him to guide him, and Master Yan was waiting for him to make judgments…

He had originally just wanted to run a lap around the city moat, as he used to do, thinking that once his anger subsided, everything would be fine. But when his mount gradually slowed down, he realized he had somehow ended up on the post road to Zhending.

The capital was already far behind.

Chen He asked fearfully, “Young Master, are we returning to the capital or staying at the next post station?”

He remembered how he had answered, “We’ll stay at the post station and return to the capital tomorrow.”

But the next morning, with a clear mind, he chose to continue south.

Perhaps in his heart, he had long recognized that she was not only intelligent and trustworthy but also had a tolerant and resilient heart. No matter how unconventional his behavior or how shocking his words were, she wouldn’t be swayed or frightened by him. Instead, she would understand and handle things in her way.

Just like now, as he stood before her, she neither asked why he had come, nor where he had come from or where he was going. It was as if he were a cloud drifting in the sky or a stream flowing in the mountains, coming when it was time to come, leaving when it was time to leave. There was no need for questions, and she believed he had his reasons!

Song Mo looked toward Dou Zhao.

She was instructing the old women on how to arrange the flowers and plants.

The evening glow on the horizon cast a golden sheen on her silhouette, giving her an almost dreamlike radiance.

He suddenly noticed that she had perfect almond-shaped eyes, just like his mother’s Persian cat, with slightly upturned corners. When she opened her eyes wide, her fine eyelashes curled upwards, making her eyes appear exceptionally bright and clear, yet always with a hint of cold allure.

Song Mo’s mood was unprecedentedly calm, peaceful, and grounded.

It felt so good to have someone he could speak freely with!

He lifted his head and took a deep breath, gazing at the clear blue sky.

The mid-autumn air, still carrying a hint of warmth, lingered at the tip of his nose, warming his heart.

Before dawn, Song Mo was already out of bed.

An afternoon of hard work had not only given him a hearty appetite, causing him to eat two large bowls of noodles but also made him fall into a deep, uninterrupted sleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

Like a withered crop revived by sweet dew, he felt refreshed and in an unprecedentedly calm mood.

He instructed Chen He, “Leave ten taels of silver. We’re setting off back to the capital.”

Chen He was surprised and said, “But you haven’t had breakfast yet!”

“We’ll buy some dry rations on the way,” Song Mo said calmly. “We can’t delay the Liaodong matter any longer.”

Chen He respectfully responded “Yes,” instructed the accompanying guards, gave ten taels of silver to the gate-keeping old woman, and the group quietly left the manor.

When they left, Dou Zhao was already awake.

In the quiet morning, even the slightest sound seemed exceptionally clear.

She heard them opening the door, heard them leading the horses, heard them speaking softly to the old woman, heard the horse hooves gradually fading into the distance… Then everything gradually fell silent again.

Dou Zhao covered her head with the quilt, hiding herself in darkness, and began to fall back asleep.

Grandmother stayed at the Cui family manor for three days and returned with a cart full of things. Among them were several handkerchiefs and sweatcloths embroidered by Tuo Niang for Dou Zhao.

Hong Gu said, “She said she’s been so busy taking care of the children these past few years that her hands have become clumsy. She didn’t dare make anything else. If you find these handkerchiefs and sweatcloths useful, please use them. If not, you can give them away as rewards.”

Dou Zhao smiled and nodded.

Grandmother asked her, “Did anything happen while I was away?”

“Nothing much,” Dou Zhao said calmly, without a hint of nervousness. “Everyone’s just hoping for a good harvest of winter wheat this year. They’re planning to make offerings to the Earth God at the City God Temple on the day of the Beginning of Winter, praying for favorable weather in the latter half of the year.”

“Is that so?” Grandmother asked, puzzled. “Why did Chen San’s wife say that a handsome young man, like one from a New Year picture, stayed at our place a few days ago…”

Dou Zhao replied nonchalantly, “Yes, someone did stay over. He even helped me with some work. As for what he looked like, I didn’t pay attention.”

Grandmother didn’t pursue the matter further. She went to look at the fields, stayed at the manor for two more days, and then returned to the county town with Dou Zhao.