“Old Ancestor, the Young Master has returned!”

“Old Ancestor, the Young Master… he’s come back…”

A slightly aged yet resonant voice burst forth from the gatehouse of Chengyang Marquis Estate, and immediately after, all the servants in the outer courtyard fell into chaos. A single phrase—”The Young Master has returned”—threw the entire Zhengyang Marquis Estate, both inner and outer residences, into disarray.

Old Madam Jiang was leading the estate’s womenfolk in listening to opera at Haitang Garden when she saw an old nanny from the estate crawl in, tears streaming down her face.

“Old Madam, the Young Master has returned! The Young Master has returned safe and sound!”

Song Wan sat beside Old Madam Jiang. Upon hearing these words, her heart suddenly trembled.

“Yi’er, Yi’er he…”

“Old Ancestor, the Young Master has returned!”

The old nanny’s crying—filled with both grief and excitement—was particularly pitiable. Before Song Wan could even organize the thoughts in her mind, she saw two people enter through the doorway. The man in the center had a tall, slender figure with sword-like brows.

He still had that handsome, elegant appearance of a refined young gentleman, only without the youthful shyness and timidity of his younger days. He now possessed the firmness and severity that only adult men had, like a sharp blade sheathed in its scabbard, restraining that edge of keen brilliance.

“Yi’er!”

Old Madam Jiang rushed forward and tightly embraced her legitimate grandson into her arms.

The man softly comforted his grandmother. When he lifted his head and saw Song Wan, he suddenly froze.

Song Wan curtsied to him in greeting, her mind filled with many thoughts.

The Jiang and Song families had been close for generations. She and Jiang Xingjian had known each other for twelve years, their engagement arranged since childhood. From the age of six when she learned to read and began studying women’s handiwork, she had been taught daily by the estate’s teaching nannies, instructed in proper speech and womanly virtues, all in preparation for becoming a woman of the Jiang family in the future.

But no one could have expected that six years ago, when Jiang Xingjian accompanied the Marquis of Chengyang to escort grain supplies to the border, they were ambushed by enemy guerrilla forces. Father and son both perished.

And she became the youngest “waiting-at-the-gate widow” in the capital.

The year she married into Chengyang Marquis Estate holding Jiang Xingjian’s memorial tablet, she was only eleven or twelve years old. Now, after six years of widowhood, her husband had suddenly returned safely—and he had brought a woman with him.

Song Wan looked toward the woman standing not far away. That woman was born delicately beautiful, with a pair of cat-like eyes that were lively and charming. She wore a scallion-green twisted silk soft gauze trailing skirt, with her hair simply adorned with a white jade pearl hairpin—altogether presenting a rather adorably charming appearance.

She withdrew her gaze and remained silent.

“Yi’er, quickly come let your mother see you!”

Jiang Xingjian’s mother pulled him close, crying so hard she could barely catch her breath. Old Madam Jiang wept quietly beside them.

Seeing the two crying themselves hoarse, Song Wan gestured for a maid to fetch the estate physician. After Old Madam Jiang and Madam Jiang’s emotions had calmed somewhat, the two of them brought Song Wan before Jiang Xingjian.

“How have your grandmother and your mother suffered? The estate has plenty of people to serve, but you and Wan’er have truly suffered. You spent years out there exposed to wind and rain, without any maids or servants to care for you. Your grandmother truly doesn’t know how you survived these six years.”

Old Madam Jiang wiped her tears, refusing to release Song Wan’s hand.

“At such a young age, Wan’er became a waiting widow and has cared for me and your mother for many years. Now that you’ve returned, your grandmother’s heart can finally be at ease. If in the future you husband and wife can give your grandmother a great-grandson, this old woman’s life will be complete.”

As Old Madam Jiang spoke, she placed Song Wan’s hand into Jiang Xingjian’s. Jiang Xingjian’s movements slightly stiffened. Song Wan sighed inwardly and withdrew her hand.

“Old Madam, your words are too weighty. My husband has just returned to the estate and is surely exhausted. Why not let him rest first? You and my mother-in-law should calm your spirits as well.”

Gently patting Old Madam Jiang’s back, Song Wan said softly, “You have heart troubles—your emotions cannot rise and fall so dramatically.”

After saying this, Song Wan addressed Jiang Xingjian: “My husband has traveled a long road and should naturally wash and rest first. However, since you have brought a delicate guest home, we cannot be remiss in hospitality.”

Song Wan’s tone hadn’t changed at all—it remained clear and light. Jiang Xingjian knew her temperament had been aloof since childhood, but for some reason, seeing her current appearance of unconcern made him quite uncomfortable.

He raised his head to look at Song Wan, examining her carefully.

The last time they’d met was the day he left the capital when she came to see him off. The Song Wan of that time was only just past ten years old, her tender little face wrapped in a red fox fur cloak—delicate and endearing. The Song family was a household of bells and cauldrons, passing down their legacy through poetry and books, and was most particular about rules and propriety. At such a young age, she spoke constantly of womanly virtue and deportment—it was utterly adorable.

He had thought that after six years, he would have long forgotten that soft, tender little girl from his memories. Yet unexpectedly, upon seeing her today, all those past scenes came flooding back.

That small face buried in fox fur from his memories had now grown increasingly beautiful and refined. Even though Jiang Xingjian knew she had been pretty since childhood, he hadn’t imagined that now that she’d grown and her features had fully developed, she would be so breathtakingly beautiful.

“Brother Xingjian…”

A young woman’s soft, sweet voice interrupted his thoughts. Jiang Xingjian turned his head to see Lin Jiayue wringing her hands, looking at him with an expression of awkward unease.

He returned to his senses and introduced her to everyone in the estate: “This is Miss Lin. That I was able to return safely from the border is largely thanks to her.”

Lin Jiayue seemed dissatisfied with this simple, cursory introduction. Opening her smiling eyes wide, she laughed, “My name is Lin Jiayue. Just call me Little Yue’er.”

The young woman pressed her lips together, and when she smiled, a pair of shallow dimples appeared on her face.

Lin Jiayue had assumed that after introducing herself, the estate’s inhabitants wouldn’t continue treating her as if she were invisible. Her face was full of smiles, but within moments, that smile froze on her face.

She hadn’t expected that not a single person would respond to her. Jiang Xingjian’s birth mother, Old Madam Chengyang, even gave her a rather subtle sidelong glance.

Lin Jiayue’s face flushed red with embarrassment.

“Miss Lin, greetings.”

Song Wan replied with a light phrase, defusing her discomfort.

Lin Jiayue looked at her gratefully. Probably due to her widowhood, Song Wan wore only plain white mourning clothes with no ornaments on her head or body. But that extremely plain white outfit paired with her face bare of powder and rouge instead possessed a unique charm—like light brows resembling autumn water, jade skin accompanying a gentle breeze.

The white plain robe accentuated her waist. Lin Jiayue’s mind suddenly conjured up a phrase: “shoulders carved to perfection, waist slender as promised…”

The other woman’s features were exquisite, her raven-black long hair held only by a simple wooden hairpin. Through the plain robe, a section of wrist so fair it seemed to glow with soft light was faintly visible—making even Lin Jiayue, another woman, feel her heart itch slightly at the sight.

Lin Jiayue pressed her lips together, looking uneasily at Jiang Xingjian.

“In the estate, both Yinhua Tower and Xiuyan Pavilion are vacant. I wonder where my husband wishes to arrange Miss Lin’s accommodations?”

Yinhua Tower in the outer courtyard was a guest lodging, while Xiuyan Pavilion was within Lanting Courtyard.

Lanting Courtyard was Jiang Xingjian and Song Wan’s courtyard—one in the outer section, one in the inner. Jiang Xingjian understood that Song Wan was asking about Lin Jiayue’s status. He slightly furrowed his brows. Looking at Lin Jiayue’s innocent, confused face, he finally said, “Arrange for Miss Lin to stay in Xiuyan Pavilion.”

As soon as these words left his mouth, Old Madam Jiang’s brows faintly knit together, while Madam Jiang looked at Lin Jiayue with a trace of disgust.

Song Wan nodded and instructed the maid beside her: “Prepare Xiuyan Pavilion and escort Miss Lin to her quarters.”