Luo Huaimeng looked at this child, her heart aching with sorrow.

She thought of Shi Ting when he was young — because she had already fallen out of favor, from the moment he was born he never received the General’s attention. Even when he fell ill, all that was done was to have a doctor take a look. No one cared, no one paid him any mind.

She had often sat alone, holding her newborn child and weeping, lamenting the injustice of fate, lamenting the General’s heartlessness.

Yet Shi Ting’s childhood had been far more fortunate than this child’s. Though no one had cherished him, he at least had warm clothes, full meals, and medicine when sick.

Luo Huaimeng could not help but shift her gaze toward Yan Qing. She wanted to know what Yan Qing was thinking.

Yan Qing had never been a cruel-hearted person — especially now, on the eve of becoming a mother herself. Seeing this child treated with such contempt, she was immediately overcome with compassion.

She knew that if she stood by and did nothing, this child would have only one fate: he would die at the hands of those people.

“Mother,” Yan Qing said, “before the General passed, he expressed his wish that the descendants of the Shi family would live in harmony, looking out for one another, so that the tragedy of kin killing kin would never happen again. This child — he ought to carry the Shi surname. Regardless of what great wrongs his father committed, he himself is innocent. The Shi family line is already thin. If we let this child wander outside, people will surely criticize us for lacking magnanimity — for being unable to even accommodate one of the Shi family’s own bloodline.”

“That is exactly what I was thinking.” Luo Huaimeng was delighted to find that Yan Qing’s thoughts aligned with her own.

Though Shi Guang had committed countless wrongs, punishment should not extend to his descendants. Moreover, the General’s dying words were still vivid in her mind. He had hoped she would manage this household well, so that the tragedies of the past would not repeat themselves. He had hoped the Shi family would flourish — even without towering power and influence, as long as the descendants lived in harmony and peace.

“Jing Zhi, bring the child over,” Yan Qing said. “It’s so hot outside — he shouldn’t stay bundled up like that.”

Jing Zhi hurried forward and took the child from Qingmei’s arms.

Qingmei watched Jing Zhi carry the baby away. Her dazed gaze remained fixed on the child, unwilling to look away.

Murong noticed her sorrowful expression and said, “Don’t worry. Our young mistress is nothing like your Qiucao. Once she makes a promise, she will always treat this child well.”

“Many thanks to the young mistress, many thanks to Er Yitai.” Qingmei knelt on the ground and kowtowed repeatedly. “The great kindness of the young mistress and Er Yitai — Qingmei can only repay it in the next life.”

Murong found Qingmei pitiable and asked, “Where will you go? What are your plans from here?”

Qingmei’s gaze was vacant as she said, “I slipped away without permission. Those people must be searching for me everywhere.”

“Then shouldn’t you find somewhere to hide?”

“I cannot abandon Qiucao. If I leave, they will beat her to death.”

Murong sighed. “You are quite loyal.”

Qingmei said nothing. She kowtowed a few more times before rising and departing.

Only after Qingmei’s figure had vanished entirely did Murong say, “With her going back like that, who knows what will become of her.”

“She is not going back to Qiucao out of loyalty,” Yan Qing said, glancing in the direction Qingmei had gone. “She has no other choice. She knows the Shi Mansion will never take her back, and even if she tried to flee, she cannot escape Shun Cheng. Since both paths lead to the same end, she would rather go back, take a beating, and at least preserve her life.”

“Ah, those two — they truly brought their misfortunes upon themselves.” Luo Huaimeng felt little sympathy for their plight. In truth, she still harbored deep resentment over Qiucao’s scheme to frame Yan Qing. Even now that Qiucao had fallen so low, she could not bring herself to pity her.

“It is the child who is truly to be pitied.” Luo Huaimeng walked over to Jing Zhi and lifted the corner of the baby’s wrapping. The child was sallow and scrawny, like a tiny little monkey. His large eyes brimmed with unshed tears, and his little cheeks flushed with the unnatural redness of fever. He had likely cried himself hoarse, for he was quiet now.

Luo Huaimeng shook her head. “Quickly go find a doctor to have a look at him.”

Xiang Xiu went to fetch a doctor, while Jing Zhi carried the child back into the courtyard.

“You’re still pregnant. Let me keep him at my quarters,” Luo Huaimeng suggested.

Yan Qing leaned in curiously to look at the child. Though he was grubby and dirty, the contours of his little face were quite lovely, and his large eyes appeared all the more innocent and guileless.

She could not resist reaching out to give him a gentle poke. The moment her hand drew close, the child’s tiny fist shot out and seized her finger.

The child gripped her finger as if he had caught hold of something delightful, clutching it tightly and refusing to let go.

“This child,” Luo Huaimeng laughed. “How does he even know to grab your hand?”

A baby this young naturally understood nothing. Perhaps it was instinct, or perhaps it was because he liked the scent of Yan Qing.

Yan Qing felt that small hand — so thin, so tiny — yet gripping her with remarkable strength. She gently tried to pull free, but could not.

“This little fellow — he’s got quite a grip,” Yan Qing smiled, her eyes softening as she looked at him. “Mother, let him stay in my quarters. Your health has not been good lately — you cannot afford to be disturbed. This child is ill and will surely cry a great deal, and that would only disrupt your rest. I sleep deeply these days; ordinary noises cannot wake me.”

Luo Huaimeng watched the child clinging stubbornly to Yan Qing’s hand and found it nothing short of remarkable.

But Yan Qing’s concern was not without reason. Her heart ailment had indeed worsened somewhat of late, likely from worry over Shi Ting. At night, even the slightest sound would wake her, and after she retired, the entire courtyard had to maintain absolute silence — even footsteps were not permitted.

“Mother, don’t worry. Has the mansion not already brought in two wet nurses? Let them tend to him first. He won’t disturb me.”

“Then let him stay in your quarters for a while. Once Xing Zhi returns, we’ll make further arrangements.”

Seeing that Luo Huaimeng had agreed, Yan Qing tugged gently at her finger. “Hey, little one — let go.”

As if the child actually understood, he miraculously released her hand, much to everyone’s astonishment.

The child was settled into Shao Yuan, where he was placed in the care of the wet nurses. When the doctor examined him, he said the child had suffered from long-term malnutrition, leading to developmental delays, and that the fever was caused by a common cold.

The doctor prescribed several medicines, cautioning that the remedies were extremely bitter — if the child refused to drink them, the wet nurse would need to take the medicine herself and pass it to the baby through her milk.

After Jing Zhi prepared the decoction, the liquid came out dark and bitter, so pungent that even she, an adult, wrinkled her nose at the smell.

But to everyone’s relief, the child only scrunched up his tiny nose at first and turned his little mouth to one side — then, upon hearing Yan Qing’s voice nearby telling him that the medicine would make him well, he opened his small mouth wide.

“Young Mistress, the little young master truly listens to you,” the wet nurse said happily. “Even though he cannot possibly understand a word, the moment you speak, he obeys like a little angel.”

Yan Qing watched the little fellow swallow the medicine mouthful by mouthful. It was clearly bitter — his brow was knitted tight — yet he kept his little mouth open and swallowed it down dutifully.

Yan Qing smiled and nuzzled his little face. “Take your medicine properly and get well soon.”

One month after the child arrived at the Shi Mansion, the illness that had plagued him was long gone, and he had grown plumper and plumper by the day. The frail little monkey of before had transformed into a round, chubby little ball.

He adored Yan Qing. The moment she appeared, he would break into a wide, toothless grin, his little hands and feet kicking and waving without stop.

Yan Qing paid the child particular attention, seeing to it that his diet was carefully and meticulously managed.

She and Luo Huaimeng went through the envelopes the General had left behind, searching through the pile of names he had chosen until they found one that felt right. His formal name would be Shi Chen, styled Zimo, and his childhood name would be Moge.

By the time Moge’s one-hundred-day celebration arrived, Shun Cheng had entered the beginning of autumn — though the late summer heat still held its grip and roared on.

In keeping with a spirit of frugality, the Shi family held a simple hundred-day banquet for Moge, attended only by relatives of the Shi family.

Moge was held by the wet nurse, but his large eyes were constantly searching for Yan Qing.

If he could not find her, he would wave his tiny fists in protest. If she appeared, he would break into a beaming smile — and because he was now a plump little ball, when he smiled he looked just like a laughing Buddha, utterly endearing.

Yan Qing had already entered the final stage of her pregnancy, and she rarely left her courtyard these days, focusing single-mindedly on awaiting the birth of her child.

Today, Moge’s hundred-day banquet gave her a reason to step outside and get some fresh air, so naturally she was surrounded by guests offering warm greetings and inquiries.

Now that the General had passed, and Shi Ting would take his place the moment he returned, Yan Qing — as the future Lady General — was naturally held in the highest regard by all.

While Yan Qing entertained Moge, the female guests gathered among themselves in conversation.

“The young mistress truly has the heart of a bodhisattva. Shi Guang was the young commander’s deadly rival — bent on killing him. And yet the young mistress is so magnanimous, willing to take in even his child.”

“Shi Guang committed his crimes, but the child is innocent. After all, he is Shi family blood.”

“Look at the young mistress — she genuinely loves this child. I’ve heard the little one depends on her utterly. Whatever she says, he obeys without question.”

“The madam has said that in the future she’ll let Moge call the young mistress ‘Mother.’ If that comes to pass, Moge’s standing will be entirely different. Even if he was born of a concubine and his father was a convicted man, being raised under the young mistress would make him the eldest young master of the Shi family. As long as he is obedient, the Shi family will not treat him poorly.”

As for Moge’s origins, all the relatives were aware. Some looked favorably upon the arrangement, others did not. Each held their own thoughts, treating it as idle conversation over tea.

After the hundred-day banquet dispersed, night had fallen completely.

Yan Qing was in her room playing with Moge when the wet nurse entered and said, “Young Mistress, all the guests have left. Shall I take the little young master to bed?”

“All right.” Yan Qing was reluctant to let go of the little chubby one. She pinched his cheek gently. “Moge, off to sleep with you now. You’ve been showing off all day, smiling at everyone you saw. You — you’re going to be quite the charmer with the girls when you grow up.”

The wet nurse stepped forward to take Moge, but Moge seized Yan Qing’s hand and refused to let go.

Yan Qing coaxed him softly, “Moge, be good now — go to sleep. I’ll play with you again tomorrow.”

The wet nurse also tried to pry Moge’s hand free from Yan Qing, but each gentle tug only made him grip tighter.

When the nurse pulled again, Moge let out a wail, and the harder he cried, the stronger his grip grew until Yan Qing’s fingers were aching from the pressure.

“All right, all right,” Yan Qing said helplessly. “Let him sleep here tonight. Go bring his little bed in.”

“But won’t he disturb the young mistress?” the wet nurse asked worriedly.

“Just for one night — it won’t matter.” Yan Qing looked fondly at Moge’s tear-streaked little face and lifted a handkerchief to gently wipe it dry.

Apparently hearing Yan Qing say he could stay, the little fellow stopped crying at once.

The two wet nurses moved Moge’s small bed into the room, and Yan Qing, not entirely at ease, had them place it right beside her own bed.

She did not know why, but looking at this child always made her forget her troubles and smile with genuine happiness.

She never found herself thinking of his father when she looked at him. On the contrary, she often forgot entirely who his father was.

Moge was attached to her, and she adored Moge. Everything else had naturally been set aside without a thought.

Why should the grievances of one generation be visited upon the next? Moge was so precious — he should not be made to suffer for another’s sins.

Yan Qing tucked Moge in after coaxing him to sleep, straightening the corners of his blanket.

“Moge,” Yan Qing said softly, gazing at his sleeping face, “when you grow up, do not worry about what others say. You only need to be the best version of yourself. I believe you will be a remarkable child. You are now the eldest brother — one day you will have younger siblings, and they will need your guidance and protection. You must carry yourself with the dignity of an elder brother.”

In his sleep, Moge pursed his little lips, as if he had taken her words to heart.

Yan Qing smiled and turned back to lie down in her bed.

“Shi Ting, when you come home and see Moge, you will certainly love him too,” she said quietly, closing her eyes gently. “Shi Ting, hurry home. The child and I are waiting for you.”

Yan Qing did not know how long she had been sleeping when a sharp pain jolted her awake.

She opened her eyes and was about to sit up when her body shifted and she rolled off the edge of the bed. She had been dreaming — in her dream she had been rolling down a hillside — and not realizing she was lying at the very edge of the bed, the slightest movement had sent her tumbling to the floor.

From that fall, wave after wave of pain radiated from her abdomen. She could feel warm, wet fluid flowing steadily from her body.

She knew the birth was imminent, but the pain had robbed her of even the ability to speak.

She struggled to open her mouth but could not produce a single sound, leaving her face drained of color, frantic with desperation.

Yan Qing lay on the floor, her body utterly without strength. Her hands scrambled frantically, reaching for anything nearby that might make a noise.

Murong and Jing Zhi were in the outer room — one sound from her and they would know.

Just as her hands were groping wildly, Moge — still deep in sleep — suddenly let out a sharp, piercing wail.

Moge rarely cried like this. Most of the time he was perfectly well-behaved.

But now, the cries rose higher and higher, one after another — loud enough to be heard not just by Murong and Jing Zhi in the outer room, but likely by people outside the courtyard as well.

When Murong and Jing Zhi heard the sound, they entered the room — and at once spotted Yan Qing lying on the floor.

Murong quickly lit the lamp, and saw a spreading stain of blood beneath Yan Qing. She let out a cry of alarm. “Quickly — quickly send for the midwives!”

After Murong and Jing Zhi rushed in, Moge ceased his wailing and fell quietly back to sleep.

In an instant, every lamp in the Shi Mansion blazed to life. People in every courtyard were roused from sleep; servants hurried in and out, their faces taut with urgency.

Luo Huaimeng, supported by a maidservant, also made her way to Yan Qing’s courtyard. The moment she entered, she saw two midwives lowering the bed curtains while Jing Zhi and Murong were changing out basins of hot water.

“What is happening? What is happening?” Luo Huaimeng asked anxiously.

Jing Zhi, tears in her eyes, said, “The young mistress suddenly fell off the bed. She has been bleeding continuously.”

“How could she fall off the bed?”

“It seems she was having some kind of dream,” Jing Zhi said, wiping her eyes. “Thank goodness Moge’s crying led us to her. Otherwise — otherwise the young mistress would have been in grave danger.”

Luo Huaimeng glanced at the small baby bed, but had no time to dwell on it. She stepped quickly to the bedside. “Nanny Wang, how is my daughter-in-law?”

Nanny Wang replied, “The young mistress’s condition is not good. I am afraid — I am afraid it may be a difficult labor.”

“How can that be? Yan Qing has always been in good health. Even the doctor said the child should come without trouble.”

“The young mistress took a fall, and combined with some underlying complications that were not easy to detect, this situation has arisen,” Nanny Wang said with the calm of long experience. “I will do my best to stop the bleeding first.”

“Good, good — please, I won’t interfere.”

Luo Huaimeng stepped quickly to one side, but she could not bring herself to sit down. She paced back and forth, her gaze never leaving the bed.

Watching Jing Zhi and Murong carry basin after basin of blood-tinged water out of the room, Luo Huaimeng grew more and more distraught. She knew she must not interfere with the midwives’ work, so she could only roll her prayer beads ceaselessly between her fingers, her lips murmuring prayers.

“Madam.” One of the midwives came running out, sweat streaming down her face. “Madam, the young mistress is having a difficult labor. She cannot muster any strength at all. If this goes on much longer, the child may suffocate in the womb.”

From the moment she had entered, Luo Huaimeng had heard nothing from Yan Qing. Now she understood — Yan Qing no longer had the strength even to cry out.

“How can this be?” Luo Huaimeng rushed forward without hesitation. She threw open the curtain and gripped Yan Qing’s hands tightly. “Yan Qing, you must hold on. You cannot let anything happen to you. If this child is lost, there will be others. I promised Xing Zhi I would look after you — don’t make me break that promise.”

Luo Huaimeng’s weeping rang in her ears, yet in Yan Qing’s world it seemed to come from a great distance.

She wanted to push, but her body would not obey. It was as though every ounce of her strength had been drained away.

In her hazy, half-conscious state, a veil of mist seemed to rise before her eyes. Within that mist, a familiar silhouette moved — the shadow of someone she knew. He was so close and yet so far. She tried to call his name, but no sound would leave her lips.

She watched as he moved further and further away, walking deeper and deeper into the mist, until he was gone.

“Qing Qing!”

A voice rang out close beside her, so vivid and clear that Yan Qing could not tell whether she was in a dream or another world entirely.

“Qing Qing.” The voice sounded again, one call after another. “Qing Qing, it’s me. It’s Shi Ting. I have come back. Qing Qing, can you hear me?”

“Qing Qing, I have come back. Open your eyes and look at me.”

He called her name without pause, without end, and in the unbroken stream of his voice, Yan Qing at last opened her eyes.

Through her blurred vision, a figure gradually came into focus.

He was dressed in his traveling clothes, and the scent of gunpowder still clung to them. His beard was unshaven, his hair uncut, his appearance ragged enough that she barely recognized him.

Yet he was still the one she knew — the one she had waited for, day and night, for so long.

Yan Qing looked up at the face before her and at last managed a smile. “Ting…”

“It’s me.” Shi Ting raised her hand to his lips and kissed it again and again. “Qing Qing, it’s me. I have come back.”

“You’ve come back?” She parted her lips and spoke a complete sentence.

Those words sent a wave of joyful shock through everyone in the room, for it meant she had found the strength to speak again.

“Yes, I have come back to see our child enter the world. I have come back to be with you.” Shi Ting’s tears fell onto the back of her hand; his eyes were bloodshot through and through. “This time, I am not leaving. Never again.”

He kissed her hand over and over. “Qing Qing, promise me — hold on. Do not give up on the child, and do not give up on me. Do you remember what you said when I left? You said you and the child would be safe and sound when I returned. You said you would let the child know he has a good father.”

He held her hand in both of his, gripping it fiercely. “If I do not have you, then no number of victories means anything. Qing Qing — do not leave me. Do not leave me alone. I beg you.”

The warmth of his tears scalded the back of her hand, and her heart ached in reply. “Don’t cry.”

She turned her eyes toward the midwife. “Give me a few more pieces of ginseng.”

“Yes, yes, right away.” The midwife quickly brought more ginseng pieces for Yan Qing to place under her tongue.

“Young Commander.” The midwife hesitated, looking uncertainly at this travel-worn man.

Shi Ting’s voice was unwavering. “I am staying here with her.”

“But for a woman’s birthing chamber, it is…”

By long tradition, men were forbidden from entering the birthing room — let alone remaining inside — for fear it would bring ill fortune.

Shi Ting repeated himself. “I said I am staying here with her.”

The midwife quickly looked to Luo Huaimeng, who gave her a single nod.

The sun rose slowly, and the vast northern land was bathed in a flood of light.

Then — a baby’s cry split the air.

Waves of celebration erupted throughout the Shi Mansion. At the front gate, firecrackers that had long been prepared were lit and crackled in a joyous, unceasing volley.

On the first day of the ninth month, the young mistress of the Shi Mansion gave birth to a daughter. Mother and child were both safe. The young commander, following the General’s wishes, named the little girl Shi Lingxuan.

In golden September, the northern forces won a great victory over Xi Nan. The towns and territories that had been lost were reclaimed, and Xi Nan suffered a devastating blow, retreating to its heartland to rest and recover.

At the end of September, the young commander succeeded the General, formally taking up residence in the Mansion.

September…

Yan Qing said to Shi Ting: “Ting, let me tell you a story. It takes place in a distant future. The main character is also called Yan Qing — she is a forensic examiner…”

—