A major event occurred in early October.

In the capital city of Dingjing, the eldest son of the Marquis of Pingnan, Young Master Su Mingfeng, suddenly fell gravely ill and needed to recuperate at home. The Marquis of Pingnan, concerned for his beloved son, stayed home with his wife to care for their eldest son. Affairs at the military horse farm were temporarily set aside. His Majesty bestowed some gifts to express his concern and appointed a new manager to take over responsibilities.

The common people of Dingjing city all lamented this turn of events. That Young Master Su was a talented youth who had accomplished great deeds shortly after entering official service. Just as he was about to rise meteorically with limitless prospects, he suddenly contracted this serious illness. It truly seemed that heaven envied talent. If this dragged on for three to five years, by the time he returned, there might be no place left for him at court.

While the common people viewed it this way, colleagues at court had different opinions. The clever ones said: “This isn’t falling ill—this is avoiding disaster. We originally thought the Su family was like oil in a raging fire, about to burn themselves, but unexpectedly they could see the situation clearly and remove the firewood from under the cauldron.”

When this news reached Shen Miao’s ears, she was standing in the courtyard trimming the branches and leaves of begonia flowers. These past few days at Guangwen Hall, because of Young Master Su’s situation, everyone had a new topic of conversation and didn’t pay much attention to her. She enjoyed these rare days of peace.

“Miss has come to like these flowers and plants now,” Guyu said with a smile. “These begonias are growing so well.”

The begonia’s deep red petals displayed a touch of vibrant color in the desolate autumn. When she had been the Empress, learning to manage the inner palace, helping Fu Xiuyi win over powerful ministers, willingly becoming a hostage in Qin country, and engaging in battles of wit with Madam Mei, most of the time she had lived amid power struggles and palace intrigues. When would she have had the mood to trim flowers and relax her mind as she did now?

“Do you know why the begonias bloom so brilliantly?” she asked.

Although Guyu didn’t understand why her mistress would ask such a question, she still smiled and answered: “These seeds were brought back by the steward from outside. I heard they are very precious seeds. Madam also praised them, saying this type of begonia looks especially nice in autumn.”

Shen Miao gently shook her head.

How could that be the reason?

Just like in the palace, that gloomy and bitter cold place where even outside the Cold Palace everything was adorned with beautiful flowers—it was only because beneath those flower branches lay countless white bones. The most brilliant things in this world always have the coldest origins.

The Su family had already understood this principle. What would they do now?

She smiled faintly.

…

At the Marquis of Pingnan’s residence.

Young Master Su’s courtyard was tightly guarded, and no one except personal servants and family members could enter. Only the heavy scent of medicine could be detected from inside. Lord Su refused all visitors and wouldn’t see outsiders.

Young Master Xie, as a friend of Su Mingfeng, naturally came to visit him in his illness.

The Xie family’s carriage stopped outside the Su residence, and servants were laboriously unloading medicinal materials from it. Those medicines were packed in boxes, showing Young Master Xie’s thoughtfulness toward his friend.

In the study, Su Mingfeng wore plain blue clothing. Apart from appearing somewhat thinner, his spirit was as good as ever. Where were the signs of serious illness?

Across from him, the young man in brocade clothes frowned and asked loudly: “Avoiding disaster?”

“Correct,” Su Mingfeng looked at his friend and sighed. “As you can see now, the Su family’s influence has been growing stronger. The Su family has continued for several generations, and regarding military horse affairs, we really shouldn’t be promoted any further. But His Majesty, far from suppressing us, has increasingly elevated the Su family.”

“And you also made achievements,” Xie Jinghang reminded him.

“Precisely because I made achievements, both my father and I were quite pleased, but we forgot the hidden crisis behind it. When merit grows too great, it becomes a calamity. You understand everything I’m saying, but previously the Su family was in the midst of it all, inevitably seeing only what was right in front of us. Now with sudden clarity, we have no choice but to pull back from the precipice—it was truly dangerous.”

“This is a good approach,” Xie Jinghang nodded. “But now you have to stay at home idly for several years.”

“I only wish for the Su family’s safety and well-being,” said Su Mingfeng. “Enough about me, what about you? The Su and Xie families rise and fall together. The Su family has decided to pull back from the edge—your Xie family…” He didn’t continue.

Xie Jinghang raised an eyebrow: “I haven’t entered official service—what can he do to me? The Xie family has only the Marquis of Lin’an title. He still needs to consider public opinion throughout the realm.”

Xie Jinghang was different from Su Mingfeng. Su Yu, for the sake of the Su family, had sent his son into official service early. But Xie Jinghang hadn’t entered official service and only held a nominal position. The few times he accompanied Xie Ding on military campaigns, he went under the title of a son. Even if the imperial family wanted to suppress the Xie family, they wouldn’t suppress a family whose son wasn’t succeeding to the position.

“You are quite far-sighted,” Su Mingfeng couldn’t help but smile.

“I’m not doing it to guard against him,” Xie Jinghang said lazily.

Indeed, he wasn’t doing it to guard against the imperial family—it was just to oppose his father.

“However,” he frowned, suddenly changing the subject, “how did you suddenly understand this matter? I reminded you several times before, but you didn’t take it seriously.”

Su Mingfeng lowered his head in shame: “I was caught up in the moment and feeling proud—how could I have thought so deeply about it? This time, I owe thanks to my second brother.”

“Your second brother?” Xie Jinghang, who had been lazily leaning against his chair, sat up straight upon hearing this, with a strange look flashing in his eyes. “That little rice ball?”

The fact that Su Minglang was a foolish little dumpling wasn’t anything unusual—how could he have warned the Su family about these matters? Could it be that Su Minglang had taken the wrong medicine?

Su Mingfeng explained the whole story and finally said: “If it weren’t for my second brother’s accidental remark, we might have brought about a great disaster.”

“An accidental remark?” Xie Jinghang murmured.

Just then, they heard a childish voice: “Elder Brother, Mother asked me to bring you some pastries.”

Su Minglang, carrying a plate of flower-shaped pastries, was walking in with his short little legs. He was round and plump like a tangyuan, with pastry crumbs around his mouth, clearly having sneaked quite a few bites on the way.

These days, because of his inadvertent reminder that had caused the Su family to change their strategy, even his most dissatisfied father, Lord Su, had unprecedentedly come to believe that his son “must have great use,” was “intelligent and quick-witted,” and possessed “great wisdom appearing as foolishness.” Lady Su had been preparing various delicious foods for him, and in just a few short days, Su Minglang had grown much rounder.

When he saw that Xie Jinghang was still there, his voice involuntarily lowered a few degrees. For some reason, he always felt somewhat afraid of his brother’s handsome friend.

Su Minglang put the pastries on the table and, after saying “Elder Brother, I’m leaving,” turned to run away. Unexpectedly, someone grabbed his collar.

Looking back, he saw the young man in brocade clothes kneeling down gently and patting his head, with a pair of peach blossom eyes that looked smiling and lively, yet their gaze was completely cold.

He asked: “Who taught you to say that?”

Su Minglang’s eyes widened.

“When the crafty rabbit dies, the hunting dog is cooked,” Xie Jinghang smiled with extreme mischief.