In this life, people are always reluctant to let go—reluctant to bow beneath others, reluctant to leave home, reluctant to part from flesh and blood, reluctant to release the entanglements of love.
Shen Zhiluo was the least willing of anyone to be like the rest of the mortal world. He wouldn’t say he was reluctant to see her go, wouldn’t ask why she insisted on leaving. Even though restlessness radiated from his entire being, he only gazed out the window, wringing the water from the cloth in his hands drop by drop.
Her fox-eyes flickering, Su Miao finally pushed herself up from the bed frame and reached out from behind him, pressing her cheek against his back.
“We’ll see each other again soon.” She smiled.
He didn’t like closeness like this—this kind of gesture would normally provoke his temper. Su Miao reacted quickly, though, withdrawing her hand before he could flare up and dashing straight out the door.
“Wait for me to come marry you!” Her lively voice drifted back from a distance, carried on the hot outside wind, brushing lightly across his back.
Shen Zhiluo paused, an indecipherable emotion rising in his eyes.
He set down the cloth and turned around.
Cicadas called noisily among the shaded trees, the fishpond rippled with light after the water was changed—wherever his eyes fell, the altar stood empty and cold, not a single figure in sight. Su Miao was always like this, coming quickly and leaving just as fast, saying everything she wanted to say and leaving not a word for anyone else.
Scoffing coldly, he dragged his purple-black star-embroidered robe half over his arm, walking listlessly outside.
Su Miao returned to the general’s household and immediately noticed how strangely clean everything was.
Puzzled, she looked up and down at the entrance and turned to ask the gatekeeper, “Which courtyard’s servants made a mistake and got assigned to cleaning duty?”
The gatekeeper wore a troubled expression. “Not at all—ever since the third young master left for his post, no one in this household dares make mistakes. It’s the young mistress, with nothing to do, sweeping every day.”
Little sister-in-law? Su Miao was stunned, tossed her luggage to a maid, and ran straight for the eastern courtyard.
When Li Jingyun had left, he’d told her, “That little sister-in-law of yours—she looks gentle, but she’s actually cold-hearted underneath. This lord leaving won’t make her sad. But when you have time, go visit her, see what she’s up to.”
He paused, then added, annoyed at himself, “What could she even be doing—she’ll hardly be missing this lord anyway.”
Su Miao had laughed at him for this, saying that the one left behind hadn’t turned into a mourning widow, yet the one leaving had turned all melancholy instead.
Li Jingyun shook his head. “You don’t understand. Earning even two parts of genuine feeling from your little sister-in-law—that’s incredibly difficult.”
His expression at the time had been so serious, with a trace of genuine sadness in his eyes, that Su Miao had truly believed his sister-in-law never took him seriously at all.
Instead—
Stepping into the eastern courtyard, Su Miao found Huayue standing before the curio shelf in the main room in a daze. She seemed to have grown thinner still, her willow-slender figure standing perfectly still.
Drawing closer, she caught a cold murmur: “As if I’d believe you.”
Who was she talking about? Su Miao raised an eyebrow, puzzled, but decided to call out cheerfully anyway. “Little sister-in-law.”
Huayue startled, turning around, a hint of a smile in her eyes. “Miss Su, you’re back.”
“Nothing but boredom at the altar—I rushed back for some excitement.” Su Miao entered and took her hand. “How have you been lately, little sister-in-law?”
Huayue nodded, pouring her tea and bringing out a plate of sweets. “With the third young master gone, the courtyard has become quite relaxed. Just a bit stifling from boredom.”
Su Miao laughed. “You’re the young mistress of the general’s household now—there’s no need for you to personally sweep the entrance no matter how bored you get.”
“Idle hands find idle work. Those lazy servants never sweep it clean, so today I went and gave them a lesson.” She said, then brought out several embroidery samples to show her.
“Miss Su’s wedding is approaching. Madam asked me to help choose the pattern for your veil. These are the best ones the embroiderers sent over—take a look?”
Su Miao only glanced at them briefly and said, “Little sister-in-law can just pick whichever you like.”
Huayue was somewhat surprised—other young ladies getting married would want to choose everything themselves, since marriage was a once-in-a-lifetime event. Yet the young miss wouldn’t even look?
Sensing her confusion, Su Miao narrowed her eyes with a smile. “If Zhiluo were truly marrying me of his own will, I’d love to pick out every single thread myself. But he’s unwilling, forced into this like a duck driven up a perch, and I’m just taking advantage of the arrangement. If I fussed over every detail for this wedding, it would lose all meaning.”
Huayue looked thoughtfully toward the inlaid jewel cabinet where her own wedding attire was kept.
“Hey, that’s completely different from your situation.” Realizing what she was thinking, Su Miao quickly turned her head back around, saying earnestly, “My cousin married you with true, genuine feeling. Little sister-in-law isn’t… well, isn’t entirely unwilling to marry him either, right?”
By the end, even Su Miao herself felt uncertain, her fox-eyes blinking rapidly.
Huayue thought about it, then nodded at her. “Mm, I was willing.”
Taking on this identity as the general household’s daughter-in-law meant becoming a target, subject to scrutiny, and perhaps one day her true identity would be exposed. That was why, when she’d bowed to Madam Zhuang, Shuang Jiang had nearly worn a hole in the floor from anxious pacing.
Huayue had comforted her afterward, saying it had been unavoidable, and besides, since the third young master was entering the palace anyway, granting him this one wish wasn’t asking too much.
But she understood clearly—performing that bow meant she herself was willing.
Su Miao watched the fleeting emotion cross the face before her, her mouth falling open wide.
She had known Steward Yin for quite some years now. In her impression, this person was smooth, sensible, gentle, almost never making mistakes, managing the general household inside and out with meticulous order. But in all this time, she had rarely seen any trace of a young woman’s tender feelings in Steward Yin.
In fact, subconsciously, she’d never even thought of this person as a young lady at all.
Yet now, Yin Huayue lowered her eyes, her fingers gripping the embroidery sample tightening slightly, as though remembering someone, and her lips curved into a smile.
That smile was so sweet it could have melted all the preserved fruits in Jing’an Hall.
Su Miao felt her own heart tremble at the sight.
She suddenly realized something was amiss.
It seemed her omniscient, all-calculating cousin had failed to account for one thing.
“Is there anything else Miss Su needs to prepare?” Huayue’s expression returned to calm as she asked quietly.
Her eyes rolling, Su Miao smiled. “I’m not sure either. Shall we go look around the streets?”
“Sure.” Huayue nodded, and without a word, went to fetch some silver notes to go out with her.
Su Miao understood now—her little sister-in-law wasn’t particularly fond of sweeping. She was simply afraid of having idle time, afraid of what she might think about, so she desperately kept herself busy finding things to do.
This person, who usually gave up and wanted to head home shortly after going out with her before, today kept pointing ahead even after Su Miao’s legs and back ached from all the walking, asking, “Have we checked that silk shop yet?”
Su Miao rubbed her legs, thinking bitterly to herself—her cousin caused all this trouble, so why was she the one suffering the consequences?
The silk shop owner seemed to have some happy occasion, all smiles as he handed over the silk fabric, even generously measuring out an extra half-foot of material.
“Has your family had a new arrival?” Huayue asked with a smile.
The shopkeeper waved his hand. “At my age, how could there be a new arrival? It’s just that my unworthy son has made something of himself—entered the imperial examination and hasn’t been sent back yet.”
The imperial examination of the Liang dynasty, due to certain concerns of the current emperor, required all examinees taking the exam in the capital to eat and sleep at the examination grounds. Those who failed would be sent back in rounds—one round at a time, with those returning later considered more promising, all the way until the top three were determined at the palace examination for the champion.
Counting the days, it was already the time of the palace examination.
Su Miao clapped her hands in admiration. “That’s wonderful indeed! The shopkeeper won’t even need to keep running this shop—just go enjoy your son’s success!”
“Oh no, no.” The shopkeeper demurred modestly, though he couldn’t hide the pride written all over his face.
Huayue picked out her fabric, and finally the two of them boarded the carriage back to the household.
Rubbing her calves, Su Miao blinked. “If only my cousin had listened to the general and gone for the imperial examination instead, he could have chosen a different post and stayed in the household.”
Huayue smiled faintly. “What’s done is done—no use discussing it further.”
She held the silk she’d just bought, stroking the pattern on it, already beginning to think about what kind of garment she might make for Madam.
Su Miao glanced at her hand and frowned slightly. “Little sister-in-law, you should rest for a couple of days. Look at these little cuts on your hand—if cousin comes back and sees this, he’ll surely hang Badou up as jerky by the back door.”
“What does this have to do with Badou.” Huayue laughed softly, shaking her head, not taking it to heart.
By the time Li Jingyun returned, the skin on her hands would likely have already renewed itself twice over—what cuts would there even be left to see.
Su Miao returned to the household, and Huayue’s tasks multiplied further—delivering a pot of chicken soup to the main courtyard every day, auditing the household accounts, disciplining two disobedient servants, and adding to the dowry gift list.
Days like this were fulfilling, but for some reason, Su Miao’s eyes always carried a hint of worry when looking at her.
Huayue knew what Su Miao was worried about. She didn’t think she was trying to escape anything through busyness, nor did she particularly miss Li Jingyun.
Just a few days of affection, that was all.
Shaking her head dismissively, she lowered her eyes and continued reviewing the account books.
As dusk approached and everything was settled, the sunset glow spread across the sky, and the eastern courtyard suddenly felt vast and empty.
Huayue stood in the main room, staring rigidly at the pair of embroidered boots on the curio shelf.
She’d dreamed last night that the boots had leapt down from the shelf and transformed into a person—someone with an infuriating face, infuriating eyebrows and eyes, an infuriating body, and infuriating roguishness running through his very being. Those dark eyes had looked down at her, carrying three parts amusement and seven parts mockery.
She’d given him a thorough beating in the dream.
But upon waking, only the boots remained in the room—no person to beat, even if she’d wanted to.
Glaring furiously at the boots, Huayue clenched her fists tight, her lustrous fingernails whitening from the force, her knuckles a mix of red and pale.
Yet after a moment, her tightly clenched fingers slowly loosened. Her fingertips shifted, rising to press together with her other hand.
—In the Liang custom, a newly bought pair of boots displayed on a shelf can serve as half a bodhisattva. If you bow to them sincerely, your wishes might just come true.
The figure standing before the curio shelf seemed slightly dazed.
She stared at the boots, her lips moving faintly, murmuring something, then bowed solemnly, reverently, toward the brand-new boots.
A moment passed. Two moments passed. The room remained perfectly quiet, no response of any kind.
After a while, Huayue straightened up and opened her eyes, feeling utterly foolish. She snapped angrily, “Liar!”
The sunset glow outside suddenly brightened, golden light streaming in through the doorway, casting a long shadow across the floor. Huayue hadn’t noticed and turned to rush outside, when a flicker at the edge of her vision froze her in place.
A tall figure leaned against the doorframe, outlined by a ring of light, the blue carp embroidery on his robe turned dark against the glow.
The figure seemed to be smiling, shoulders trembling slightly, a low voice like an ancient zither cutting through the dusk straight into her mind.
“This lord never lies,” he said.
Like fireworks all bursting open at once before her eyes at year’s end, Huayue’s mind reeled. Instinctively, she reached out to wave away the dim light, trying to clear it enough to see who this truly was.
Of course she couldn’t clear it that way, but the figure stepped forward, his handsome features gradually coming into focus before her.
His dark eyes carried a familiar light, the corners tilting slightly with a hint of disdain.
“It’s only been this long, and you’ve already missed this lord to this state?” Li Jingyun said leisurely, laughing.
Her breath caught for a moment. Huayue’s eyes stirred. “You…”
He lowered his head, his side profile with faint stubble brushing lightly against her ear. “Don’t recognize me?”
Of course she recognized him. Huayue nodded dazedly.
The next instant, her back was pressed against something, her body involuntarily leaning up against his chest.
The knot that had been hanging in her heart the whole time suddenly settled back into place. Huayue reached back and hugged him, her eyes filled with both surprise and joy, though her mouth still asked, puzzled, “How did you get out?”
“The palace gates opened, so naturally I came out.” He answered vaguely, breathing in the scent of her with obvious longing.
Pushing him away hastily, Huayue narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Sneaking out again? No one’s covering for you in the palace this time—leaving your post without authorization like this…”
Watching her ramble on with obvious affection in his eyes, Li Jingyun hummed and leaned down to seal her chattering mouth with his own.
Outside, sudden commotion erupted—some servant shouted something, and the entire general household burst into excitement, gongs and drums sounding, people running to spread the news, even firecrackers going off at the main gate.
“Cousin, little sister-in-law!” Su Miao called out repeatedly from outside. “Come out quickly!”
His chest pushed by a hand, Li Jingyun stepped back half a pace, glancing outside with displeasure.
The person in his arms still hadn’t fully come to her senses, her small hand pressed against his chest, her voice sounding somewhat far away. “Let’s go see what’s happening.”
“Mm,” Li Jingyun hummed, unclasping her fingers one by one and interlocking them tightly with his own, then led her outside.
At this hour, every household and courtyard should have been at dinner, yet somehow everyone had gathered in the main hall. Li Shoutian sat in the main seat with a dark expression, while Madam Zhuang beside him was weeping with joy.
“Good, very good. Quickly have him come pay respects to the uncles and elders who’ve looked after him all this time.”
Huayue followed Li Jingyun through the doorway, her expression still somewhat dazed. She was seated on a low stool beside Madam, looking around in bewilderment.
“Congratulations,” several distant aunts said quietly beside her. “Marrying a husband, you should marry someone like our Jingyun—so promising, so ambitious. Who would have guessed he’d go out and come back having claimed the top spot in the military examination? The general shouldn’t sulk anymore—a military top scorer has far better prospects than that Palace Guard Dispersal post.”
“That’s right.” Madam Zhuang also quickly turned to persuade him. “This is wonderful news.”
“What’s wonderful about it?” Li Shoutian said coldly.
The bustling main hall fell suddenly silent. Li Jingyun, still exchanging greetings with several uncles, didn’t seem to notice, properly completing all the courtesies before slowly kneeling before Li Shoutian.
“Your son begs Father’s forgiveness,” he said calmly. “For failing to honor Father’s arrangements, and for taking part in the imperial examination on my own authority, causing Father difficulty.”
Huayue only then understood what had actually happened.
This man had actually gone and taken the imperial examination?!
Li Shoutian’s chest heaved, his brows furrowed in anger. “Do you still see me as your father at all? You agreed to something with others, and then simply decided not to go—how does that make me look to others? Wings grown strong enough now that claiming a top spot means you can strut through this household showing off?”
“Your son never had such thoughts,” Li Jingyun said, still perfectly composed, not even lifting his head. “I was originally headed to take up my post, but along the way I heard idle talk that the Li family’s sons were worthless—one stuck at the border for years unable to return to court, another coasting along on ancestral privilege for a comfortable post, each generation worse than the last.”
“As a junior, being gossiped about myself wouldn’t matter much, but such words reflected poorly on the general household’s honor. So your son took a detour to the examination grounds to have a look.”
“I originally thought the military examination would be rigorous, full of skilled competitors, and that your son would merely go to broaden his experience. Who would have thought there was hardly anyone worth mentioning there—your son ended up staying until the very end, and could only return to report to Father today.”
He rose and bowed again. “I beg Father’s forgiveness.”
His words sounded proper enough, but summed up, it all amounted to: they were all too weak, so casually I couldn’t even make it back to take up my post in the palace guard.
Li Shoutian slammed his palm on the low table, trembling with anger.
The uncles and aunts around quickly stepped in to placate him, pouring tea, offering water, one voice after another. “Jingyun has already explained—he wasn’t defying you deliberately. Who’s to blame but you for raising him so capable?”
“Third Brother, don’t be so angry. If our branch of the family can produce a son like this, our ancestors would be honored indeed.”
“The child’s been at the examination for over half a month now, look at him, hasn’t even had time to properly tidy himself up. Let him go rest, and we’ll discuss arranging a celebratory feast.”
Li Shoutian glared fiercely. “This unfilial son, and you want to throw him a feast?”
“We must, we must! Our Li family has never had a top scorer before!”
Madam Zhuang caught Huayue’s eye, and Huayue understood, taking advantage of the confusion to lead Li Jingyun away.
Servants were bustling everywhere throughout the household. The two of them took a quiet side path, neither speaking.
Walking along, Li Jingyun began to sense something wasn’t quite right. Glancing sideways at her, he coughed lightly, searching for something to say. “Do you think my father will confine me again?”
Huayue shook her head expressionlessly. “No. Don’t be fooled by how loudly the general pounded the table just now—you won the top spot, he’s happier about that than anyone.”
He nodded, relieved, and laughed. “Then what about you? Are you happy?”
Her embroidered shoes stopped on the paving stones. Huayue turned around and looked up at him, her eyes deep and unreadable.
“You had already planned to take the examination all along.”
His heart lurched. Li Jingyun sensed trouble and quickly assumed the same innocent expression he’d worn earlier in the hall. “How could that be, it was just that along the way…”
“Military examinations require the candidate roster to be submitted several days in advance.” She interrupted with a smile, though the smile didn’t reach her eyes. “When the examination first began, you were still telling this servant you were heading to take up your post.”
“That’s for other people. Who does this lord think he is? He’s the general household’s son.” Li Jingyun said, righteous and confident. “Managing the roster is Qin Sheng’s job—having him add this lord’s name isn’t difficult at all.”
Huayue turned and walked away.
“Hey—” He quickly caught her arm, his expression softening, looking rather awkward. “How are you sharper about this than even my father?”
That was it, wasn’t it—new grievances and old ones, all to be settled at once?
Li Jingyun took a quick breath and pulled her into his embrace, coaxing her gently. “This lord truly wasn’t trying to deliberately deceive you. What if it hadn’t gone well? This lord didn’t want to lose face in front of you. You saw, the military examination isn’t simple at all—this lord picked up more than a few new wounds. From last evening until now, this lord hasn’t closed his eyes even once, thinking only of coming back to confess.”
“Confess?” She scoffed. “The third young master’s usual method is to deceive first, and only admit fault when the deception can’t be sustained any longer. There’s no way you’d come straight out and confess.”
Rather perceptive of him, wasn’t she.
Li Jingyun was momentarily delighted, then quickly changed to a pained expression. “Why do you only care about that, and not that this lord hasn’t slept for a full day and night?”
Her cheeks puffed slightly. Huayue took his outstretched hand and led him back to the eastern courtyard, drew water to wash his face, then pressed him down onto the bed with the blankets.
“Young master, rest well,” she said, bowing her head. “This servant will go check on the front hall.”
With that, she rose and left without a trace of reluctance.
The door closed with a sharp “pop.” Li Jingyun clutched the blanket, staring in astonishment.
When he’d left, she’d been a sweet, soft little pup. Now that he’d returned, how had she turned into a snarling, ferocious hound?
Truly exhausted, Li Jingyun didn’t have the energy to dwell on it further. He decided to close his eyes first to recover some strength, and deal with this properly later.
Winning the top spot in the military examination had been something Li Jingyun had planned for a long time. Mingling among the common folk, though it could bring wealth, always lacked real backing in the end. The post the Crown Prince had arranged for him came with restrictions, and the idle post his father had arranged wasn’t free either—what he truly wanted, he had to seize for himself.
Both the civil and military top scores were announced on the same day. Zhou Heshuo looked up from a pile of miscellaneous affairs to hear the news from the Li household’s official report.
“This third young master of the Li family, quite capable indeed,” an official chatted idly with him. “In previous years, the military examination always had a runner-up and third place, but this time, after facing him, everyone who competed suffered serious enough injuries they couldn’t even get out of bed. Only he went on to the palace examination alone. His Majesty was delighted upon seeing him, bestowing generous gifts right there on the spot, and likely will entrust him with significant responsibility going forward.”
Zhou Heshuo laughed coldly. “As expected of someone this palace has valued highly.”
But after a moment, he grew somewhat displeased. “This matter—Jingyun didn’t report it to this palace beforehand.”
“Not just you, Your Highness—even General Li didn’t know. The household was in an uproar for quite a while,” the official shook his head. “The third young master has always kept to himself, and rarely does anyone know what he’s thinking. Still, it’s not bad—once he holds an official post, that’s a good thing for Your Highness too.”
If Li Jingyun had accepted the post the Crown Prince had arranged for him, that would indeed have been advantageous. But he hadn’t.
Zhou Heshuo narrowed his eyes, recalling the distant memory of Qifeng Pavilion, where that man had leaned against the rain-streaked lattice window, twirling a jade fan, laughing. “I’ve grown too lazy and unrestrained—how could I bear the hardships of the training grounds? Besides, my elder brother serves the country loyally at the border—I hide behind him, still stealing a bit of leisure for myself.”
Stealing leisure, and ending up stealing the title of top scorer from the imperial examination instead.
His brow furrowing slightly, Zhou Heshuo lowered his eyes. “This palace should send a congratulatory gift as well.”