The green canopy of the official sedan chair moved slowly to the front of Shuntian Prefectural Academy Alley. Two guards, dressed inconspicuously, silently followed behind the sedan chair, while the bearers pretended not to notice them.
As they passed the academy, a steward emerged from under the eaves and walked alongside the chair. Once they reached the main street, a servant holding a lantern appeared in front of the sedan. At this moment, the chair finally resembled that of a second-rank official traveling lightly.
A large character “窦” (Dòu) was prominently displayed on the bright red lantern, making it exceptionally eye-catching in the darkness. The patrolling officers, upon seeing it, not only refrained from approaching to question but also actively stepped aside.
The sedan entered one of the most famous pleasure quarters in the capital—Cuihua Alley. A few officers exchanged knowing glances, revealing a shared envy among men. One of them sighed, “It seems even the old minister is the same!” The others chuckled lewdly, their demeanor was as crude as it was comical.
Inside the sedan, the occupant remained unaware. If someone had been following them closely, they would have noticed that after the sedan swayed through Cuihua Alley, the outer drapes transformed into a deep blue, and the golden and silver embroidered ribbons depicting dragon patterns vanished.
Once the sedan exited Cuihua Alley, it circled half the city and stopped in front of a shop with a sign reading “Dòu Ji Brush and Ink” near the Drum Tower on Andingmen Street. The servant with the lantern hurriedly lifted the curtain of the sedan.
An elderly scholar in a blue cotton robe stepped out, gently knocking on the door of the ink shop while calling, “Manager Fan!”
Song Mo found himself enveloped in a thick fog. The dense mist rolled in layers, obscuring his sense of direction and making it impossible to find a way forward. He felt lost and disoriented, wandering through the fog, which was damp, heavy, and biting cold.
How did he end up here? He suddenly stopped, the surroundings eerily silent, devoid of any sound. He continued to walk forward, as if passing through layers of sheer fabric, each step feeling endless.
“Why?” he asked, but no one answered. His pace quickened, and the fog thickened around him.
“Why?” he shouted into the void ahead. The mist seemed to recoil from his anger, parting to reveal a figure ahead carrying a lantern. The lantern emitted a soft, radiant glow amidst the fog.
He was not alone! Excitement surged within him, bringing a sense of calm and composure. Yet, the mist quickly regrouped, denser than before, blocking his view and extinguishing the light.
Humiliation and anger morphed into a relentless determination, overwhelming him like a tidal wave. He shouted “Why?” again and again, his voice echoing in the fog.
The mist parted and closed, revealing flickering lights ahead. Those lights became an obsession in his heart.
With a sudden “boom,” the fog dissipated, revealing a hazy golden light that was warm and peaceful, filling his entire vision. He strained to open his eyes, and his sight gradually cleared.
On a greenish-blue bronze lamp surrounded by birds, an orange flame flickered. Someone beside him exhaled in relief, “Young Master, you’ve finally awakened!”
Following the voice, he saw Chen Qu Shui’s thin, scholarly face. “W-where is this?” he asked, surprised to find himself lying on a bed. He attempted to move but found his limbs stiff and weak, quickly scanning the cramped space around him.
The room was small, with windows covered in white Goryeo paper and simple black lacquer furniture. There was no one else present, resembling a servant’s quarters.
Chen Qu Shui approached with a bowl of warm water sweetened with honey, saying, “This is the ink shop run by the Fourth Miss. You’ve been unconscious for a while, so we had to bring you here.”
Dòu Zhào! It was Dòu Zhào who saved him!
Song Mo could not hide his shock. “How did the Fourth Miss know I was in trouble?”
“Mr. Yan and Xu Qing were being pursued…” Chen Qu Shui recounted how Yan Chaoqing had sought Dòu Zhào’s help through Lu Ming.
Song Mo pressed his lips together, a glint of cold light flashing in his eyes as his hands gradually clenched into fists.
Chen Qu Shui held the small bowl, sighing inwardly. He was preparing to leave when he encountered Duan Gongyi and Chen Xiaofeng, who had climbed over the wall. He had already learned the details from Duan Gongyi and said, “The young lady found it strange. If this incident was aimed at the Jiang family, it would be illogical to repeatedly send trained assassins after two people who are neither of Jiang’s blood nor kin. When the Fourth Miss asked Lu Ming, she discovered that several key people around you were not in the capital. She sensed that this matter was directed at you and sent Duan Gongyi with the best guards immediately. Unexpectedly…” Chen Qu Shui recalled his shock upon seeing Song Mo battered and bruised, feeling a wave of relief. “Fortunately, the Fourth Miss acted without hesitation; otherwise…”
Otherwise, even if he had survived, he would have been expelled from the family!
Song Mo’s mind conjured Dòu Zhào’s strikingly beautiful face, filled with a spirited aura. His father wanted to kill him. The very person who nearly killed him, Dòu Zhào, had saved him.
Was there anything more absurd than this in the world? A wry smile crept onto his lips.
Chen Qu Shui, however, looked concerned, recalling Dòu Zhào’s message through Duan Gongyi. He needed to ignite Song Mo’s fighting spirit and prevent him from succumbing to despair!
His gaze flickered as he said, “It’s a pity we don’t have enough people. Otherwise, Yu Hu Wei and Chen Tao… it might already be too late…” He sighed regretfully.
Song Mo remained silent, struggling to prop himself up. Chen Qu Shui hurried to assist him, but he gestured for him to stop. “Please thank Duan Hu Wei and Chen Hu Wei for me. As for the Fourth Miss…” He paused, warmth flowing into his eyes, softening his expression. “I won’t say much about such great kindness!”
Chen Qu Shui felt a surge of joy. It seemed Song Mo was stronger than he had imagined.
He quickly replied, “I don’t deserve such praise; I’m just following the young lady’s orders.”
Song Mo shifted the conversation, asking Chen Qu Shui, “How long was I unconscious?”
His gaze was calm, and his tone rational, exuding the composure of a nobleman.
“Six hours!” Chen Qu Shui answered.
That meant it was now the second day, around the si hour. His father had summoned his uncle and two other uncles to the ancestral hall at the hour of the dragon. Now that he was missing—if he were merely the eldest son of Duke Ying, his father, as the clan leader, could propose his removal from the Song family genealogy without objection from the elders. However, he was not only the heir of Duke Ying but also held a hereditary fourth-rank official position. To expel him would mean stripping him of his title, requiring the emperor’s approval and a report to the Ministry of Personnel. Without a compelling reason, the emperor would never agree. This was why his father suggested waiting until the next day to hold the ancestral hall ceremony.
To be certain, his father must have some preparations to make.
Now that he had been rescued, he was absent from the scene. Not only would they be unable to expel him, but all previous schemes would likely fall apart.
His father must be in quite a predicament now.
Song Mo felt a sharp pain in his heart. He could not help but close his eyes.
The room fell into silence, and the atmosphere grew increasingly oppressive.
Finally, when Chen Qu Shui was nearly out of breath, Song Mo slowly opened his eyes and asked, “How is my injury?”
He felt no pain.
Chen Qu Shui hesitated for a moment before saying quietly, “Your injuries are quite severe. We didn’t dare to call a doctor, so Duan Gongyi used some healing medicine from his master’s school. However, it’s best to see a royal physician as soon as possible…”
That medicine must contain some anesthetic!
Song Mo replied calmly, “Now is not the time to see a royal physician. Let Duan Hu Wei give me a few more pills.”
“This…”
“I know,” Song Mo said. “With such severe injuries, if I can’t feel pain, the medicine must be potent and could have side effects. But it’s better than losing my life, right?” He looked at Chen Qu Shui with a light-hearted demeanor.
For the first time, admiration flickered in Chen Qu Shui’s eyes as he regarded Song Mo.
Six days and five nights of relentless travel, brutal beatings, the grief of losing his mother, and his father’s ruthlessness had not diminished his resolve. Upon awakening, he immediately began to assess his situation.
Such unwavering will is indeed rare!
In a few years, who would doubt he could establish his household?
With this thought, he found himself even more puzzled by Duke Ying’s actions. Why would he abandon such an outstanding eldest son?
As this thought crossed his mind, Chen Qu Shui suppressed it deep within— Duke Ying’s family was a prestigious noble family with a long history; it was not something they could touch.
He nodded slightly.
A glimmer of relief crossed Song Mo’s eyes.
He softly asked Chen Qu Shui, “Can you help me send a few letters?”
Chen Qu Shui, managing to suppress his inner excitement, replied in his usual gentle tone, “The Fourth Miss said that your orders are as good as hers.”
In reality, Dòu Zhào’s exact words were: “If you can rescue Song Mo in time, have him contact those he trusts. If he asks you to run errands or send letters, you may help, but for anything else, just say you lack the manpower and cannot assist. Do not get involved! We have done our utmost to save his life; there’s no need to risk our own.”
But he felt that since they had decided to help Song Mo, they might as well do it beautifully.
A smile crept onto Song Mo’s lips.
The Fourth Miss…
When Chen Qu Shui emerged from the servant quarters, Duan Gongyi and Chen Xiaofeng immediately approached, whispering, “How is it?”
Chen Qu Shui raised the letters in his hand.
Duan Gongyi grinned widely.
Chen Xiaofeng also breathed a sigh of relief.
When the ruler demands the death of his subjects, the subjects must comply. When a father wishes for his son’s demise, the son must comply.
They had expended so much effort to rescue Song Mo; if he did not seek a way out for himself, it would be too disheartening.
Duan Gongyi yawned and said wearily, “Which letters am I responsible for delivering? Once I finish, I can finally get some sleep.”
He had hurried back from Zhengding, just bathed, and had traveled day and night to return to the capital, utterly exhausted.
Chen Qu Shui quickly said, “You all should rest! It’s just delivering a few letters, not going into battle. I can handle it with Cui Shisan.” He then mentioned Song Mo’s request for medicine.
Duan Gongyi fell silent for a moment before saying, “The young master has a point. A true man would rather die standing than live on his knees.” He headed to the servant quarters.
Chen Xiaofeng and Chen Qu Shui sighed in unison.
Chen Qu Shui went to find Cui Shisan to arrange the letter delivery.
Chen Xiaofeng thought for a moment and followed, “Mr. Chen, I’ll go with you! I’m not like Uncle Duan, who has made two round trips from Zhengding to the capital in just a few days…”