With the great war ended and peace restored to the realm, criminals should be punished and meritorious officials rewarded.

At Duke Ying Mansion, Duke Ying and Second Young Master Lu Ya both received rewards. For the first branch, besides Lu Zhuo receiving a posthumous title, Lu Zhuo’s mother, He Shi, was granted the title of First-rank Lady by imperial decree. Wei Rao, for her merit in exposing the Han family’s treason, was granted the title of Princess Wu’an, and A’Bao was also granted the title of Princess Baohua for her parents’ military achievements.

But no amount of rewards could bring back Lu Zhuo.

Duke Ying, who had been so imposing when repelling the Western Qiang, seemed to age all at once. Though he still held the position of Shenwu Army commander, he handed over the military affairs of reorganizing the Shenwu Army to Fourth Master and Lu Ya. After decades of campaigning, Duke Ying finally removed his armor and stayed in the mansion to accompany his elderly wife. Duchess Ying had already sent off three sons, and now, with her eldest grandson gone, the old lady was heartbroken, but being advanced in age, she was more able to accept it. She was more concerned about He Shi and Wei Rao.

Wei Rao appeared to be doing well.

Except for the day of Lu Zhuo’s burial, Wei Rao never shed tears in front of others again. Even when He Shi cried her heart out before her, Wei Rao could watch calmly. At first, she would comfort He Shi, but later, finding comfort useless, Wei Rao couldn’t even be bothered with those repetitive words and would just have Nanny Ma take A’Bao away so the child wouldn’t be frightened by He Shi’s crying.

He Weiyu had returned with her children for a brief stay. Wei Rao didn’t have the patience to console He Shi, but He Weiyu did.

Duchess Ying felt sorry for He Shi’s pain of losing her son. But He Shi could cry it out – being able to cry was normal. Once He Shi had cried enough, time would gradually heal her wounds. Duchess Ying was more worried about Wei Rao. This child clearly cared about her eldest grandson and had even personally gone to the battlefield for him, yet now she acted as if nothing had happened while caring for A’Bao, keeping all her grief bottled up inside. As the saying goes, blocking is not as good as releasing – continuing like this would make her sick.

Out of concern, Duchess Ying invited Shou’an Jun to come.

Shou’an Jun usually didn’t come to the capital, but for her granddaughter, she naturally had to make this trip.

When Shou’an Jun arrived at Pine Moon Hall, Wei Rao was playing with an abacus with A’Bao.

A’Bao, not yet two years old, didn’t understand the pain of losing her father. She probably couldn’t even remember what Daddy looked like. As long as Mama was there, as long as familiar playmates were around, A’Bao was carefree. She would run chasing leaves blown by the wind, letting out cheerful, clear laughter, and would demand to sit on Mama’s lap when she saw Mama looking at account books, wanting to play with Mama’s abacus.

“Grandmother, how did you come?”

Only when Shou’an Jun arrived at Pine Moon Hall did Wei Rao receive word, hurriedly carrying her daughter out to greet her.

Shou’an Jun stood at one end of the corridor, watching her granddaughter step out of the hall.

During Lu Zhuo’s funeral period, Shou’an Jun had visited Duke Ying Mansion. The Wei Rao she saw then had just returned from the frontier, gaunt and haggard, and except for fewer tears, was no different from other young daughters-in-law who had lost their husbands early. Now, a month had passed, and Wei Rao had regained her rosy complexion and restored her former radiant beauty.

It had been less than three months since Lu Zhuo died in battle, and He Shi was still tearful, yet Wei Rao looked like this. Only Duchess Ying was kind-hearted enough to worry that Wei Rao was suppressing her grief and would make herself sick. A more narrow-minded old lady would suspect that Wei Rao didn’t care about Lu Zhuo at all.

Having Nanny Ma, Bitao, and others play with A’Bao, Wei Rao invited Shou’an Jun to the inner room.

“The old lady is worried about you and asked me to come see you,” Shou’an Jun said directly, not hiding anything.

Wei Rao had somewhat guessed this.

“Raorao, tell grandmother what you’re thinking in your heart,” Shou’an Jun said, holding Wei Rao’s hand.

Wei Rao smiled, looking at her grandmother’s increasingly wrinkled hands. She said softly, “What can I think? He’s dead. When I was on the grasslands, I cried almost every day, missing him, cursing him, resenting him, dreaming of him every night. But dead is dead – am I supposed to cry for him my whole life? When Father died, I didn’t cry for long either. When Mother left, I only cried thinking of Mother when I was sick or wronged. When Grandmother passed away, my tears dried up even faster…”

As she spoke, two streams of clear tears slid down her fair, radiant face.

Shou’an Jun lovingly embraced her granddaughter.

She understood what her granddaughter meant.

Losing her father in childhood, separated from her mother in youth, framed by others, criticized by others, assassinated by others…

Some people might never encounter even one such thing in their lifetime, but her granddaughter, from the time she could remember until now, had never been truly happy for long.

Those who have never been hurt find even a pin prick painful, but for someone who gets stabbed regularly, when another stab comes, the pain passes quickly.

“Grandmother, I still miss him, but I can’t stop living just because I miss him. I miss him, but I also want to live my own life well. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

Shou’an Jun understood.

When parents die, children cry for a few days, then continue living as they should. Who decreed that wives must wash their faces with tears daily for their deceased husbands? Some people remain immersed in pain longer, others shorter – it doesn’t mean the longer ones loved more deeply and the shorter ones were false.

Some people place all their heart and energy into one person. When something happens to that person, they feel the sky has fallen and the earth has collapsed, barely able to live. Others have businesses to manage and children to care for, so they inevitably tell themselves they can’t sink too deep. The more they invest elsewhere, the less they’ll be trapped in one place.

Raorao thinks this way is right. Without mentioning distant matters, just speaking of Shoucheng’s situation, everyone in the Lu family feels pain in their hearts, but hasn’t everyone gradually recovered? The old lady can think it through. The Second Young Master can think it through. Your mother-in-law has a different temperament from you – let her cry if she wants to cry. If you don’t want to cry, you don’t need to cry for appearances. I’ll explain to the old lady for you,” Shou’an Jun said lovingly.

Wei Rao nodded, leaning against her grandmother’s shoulder: “After New Year’s, I’ll take A’Bao to live at the Princess Mansion. Living here is too tiring. Others think I’m heartbroken and sad – when they see me, they restrain their joy and carefully console me. I don’t need that kind of consolation, and I don’t want to disturb them. If I move out, it’ll be good for everyone.”

Shou’an Jun also felt her granddaughter would be more comfortable at the Princess Mansion, but…

“If you move there, what if your mother-in-law misses A’Bao?”

Wei Rao said, “Every month, I’ll bring A’Bao back to stay for two nights. If Mother-in-law is willing, she can also come live at the Princess Mansion with me.”

Shou’an Jun: “But this way, won’t A’Bao’s relationships with her brothers and sisters on the Lu family side become distant?”

Wei Rao smiled: “If temperaments suit each other, even if they’re far apart, those who should be close will still be close, like me and my cousin Huizhu, like the Young Master and his several brothers. If temperaments don’t match, even living under the same roof will make them sick of each other, like me and Wei Chan.”

Hearing this, Shou’an Jun patted her granddaughter’s shoulder, saying shamefully: “Grandmother is getting old – I can’t even see things as clearly as Raorao.”

This was what Wei Rao told her grandmother, and this was also what she planned to do.

After New Year’s, after the first lunar month, Wei Rao went to discuss this matter with He Shi and Duchess Ying.

He Shi’s eyes immediately reddened: “Why does Raorao want to move there?”

Shoucheng only had A’Bao as a daughter; if her daughter-in-law took A’Bao away, how could she live?

Having asked the question, Duchess Ying looked at Wei Rao, wanting to hear what Wei Rao would say.

Wei Rao spoke honestly to the old lady: “Grandmother, Shoucheng got into trouble trying to save Second Brother. Second Brother has always felt guilty, and Second Aunt and Second Sister-in-law also feel they’ve wronged me. Every time we meet in the mansion, they become heavy-hearted when they see me and A’Bao. There are also Third Aunt and Fourth Aunt, who constantly want to care for me, but I’ve long since come to terms with things. Their behavior makes me feel undeserving instead. So I think if I take A’Bao to live at the Princess Mansion and come back to visit twice a month, everyone can be more comfortable.”

Duchess Ying understood Wei Rao’s feelings.

Just like when she had lost her sons years ago, she had gotten through it herself, but when others saw her, whether out of genuine concern or mere politeness, they would offer comfort, which both tired her and pained her by stirring up sad memories. She simply went nowhere and stayed home alone for peace.

Perhaps many people had such thoughts, but most had nowhere to hide except to endure. But Wei Rao was a princess with her own Princess Mansion – she could completely take A’Bao and live an undisturbed life.

As for A’Bao, Duchess Ying was willing to completely entrust her to Wei Rao.

She was old and no longer had the energy to personally teach and raise a child. He Shi was young but couldn’t handle the responsibility of raising A’Bao. Entrusting A’Bao to Wei Rao, Duchess Ying believed that in ten years or so, the capital would have another spirited, free-spirited, loyal, and brave young lady.

Wei Rao knew the old lady would support her.

She went to coax He Shi, hoping He Shi would come with her to the Princess Mansion. If possible, Wei Rao also wanted another person to constantly dote on her daughter. Whatever shortcomings He Shi’s temperament had, she loved A’Bao, and the environment at the Princess Mansion would make He Shi happy living there, too, better than staying at the Lu family watching the other three branches’ families complete and happy.

He Shi was grateful for her daughter-in-law’s filial piety, but she didn’t want to leave.

She was a daughter-in-law of the Lu family. Her husband had given her an imperial title, and her son had also used his life to give her the glory of being a First-rank Lady. If He Shi moved to the Princess Mansion for her comfort, she would be failing her husband, her son, and the old lady’s care for her. Moreover, only their mother and daughter-in-law duo remained in the first branch. If her daughter-in-law and A’Bao left and she left too, who would remember the Lu family’s first branch, remember her heroically sacrificed husband and son?

For her husband and son, He Shi wouldn’t go anywhere.

Wei Rao respected her mother-in-law’s choice and promised to regularly bring A’Bao back to pay respects to the elders.

That evening, the Lu family all ate dinner together. At the table, Duchess Ying announced that Wei Rao would be moving to live permanently at the Princess Mansion.

Duke Ying nodded.

This granddaughter-in-law had never followed the rules. Years ago, when his eldest grandson desperately begged Wei Rao to remarry him, though Duke Ying felt his grandson was useless, since the young couple was willing to fight and suffer, and his wife was laughing and watching the show, he didn’t interfere. Later, when Wei Rao rushed to the grasslands for his eldest grandson, not only saving his second son but also avenging his eldest, Duke Ying remembered this kindness. Never mind Wei Rao just living at the Princess Mansion – even if Wei Rao sat on his eldest grandson’s gravestone drinking wine, Duke Ying wouldn’t interfere.

Lu Ya kept his head down, full of guilt. Grandmother had spoken with him privately – Sister-in-law was leaving so their second branch could live comfortably.

Second Madam silently watched Wei Rao and A’Bao.

She had once accepted Wei Rao, but then looked down on Wei Rao. Now, the Second Madam only had admiration and gratitude for Wei Rao. She still wouldn’t raise her daughters and granddaughters to be like Wei Rao – she didn’t have such courage and boldness – but after Wei Rao had done so much, Second Madam finally understood that women had another way of living, and being unconventional wasn’t necessarily wrong.

She was grateful Wei Rao had saved her son, and grateful Wei Rao had avenged the Lu family against the Han family.

If Second Madam felt this way, Lu Ya’s wife, Lady Qiao, was even more convinced and admiring of Wei Rao as her sister-in-law.

Third Madam equally admired Wei Rao.

Fourth Madam needn’t be mentioned – in her heart, she treated Wei Rao as a dear sister, and whatever Wei Rao did, she supported.

In the distant northern territory of Wuda.

The sun was setting, casting golden twilight across the vast grasslands as herders drove cattle and sheep into their pens.

Cooking smoke rose everywhere – it was time for the evening meal.

A seven-year-old girl named Bao Ya carried a bowl of warm sheep’s milk to the neighboring felt tent. Inside were three bedrolls – two belonging to her brothers, who were currently dining with their parents. On the remaining bedroll lay a disheveled man with a full beard.

He had a long scar across his face.

When Father first brought this man home, he was bruised and battered with the scar gaping open – Bao Ya couldn’t even bear to look. The man was unconscious, only able to be force-fed some sheep’s milk. Under Father’s careful care, the scar on the man’s face gradually healed and wasn’t so frightening anymore. The swelling around his eyes and face had also gone down, making him look quite handsome.

Perhaps because Mother had complimented him once, Father had deliberately messed up the man’s hair, not allowing Mother to wash it or help the man shave his beard.

The man lay motionless, listless as usual. Bao Ya knelt beside the bed, skillfully holding the man’s chin with one hand while spooning sheep’s milk into his mouth with the other.

After feeding him the milk, Bao Ya took the mashed medicinal herbs Father had prepared and applied them to the wounds on the man’s arms and calves.

This was a tribesman Father had brought back from the battlefield. Father said the man was called A’Gula and was an orphan – very pitiful.

Bao Ya carefully applied medicine to this pitiful man. He had been unconscious for so long – she wondered if he could still wake up.

Suddenly, the man’s fingers hanging at his side moved slightly.

Bao Ya was startled. Looking up, she saw the man had opened his eyes at some point.

Bao Ya was delighted, put down the large bowl containing the herbs, and ran to call Father.

Lu Zhuo felt weak all over. His fingers could still move, but his legs had no sensation.

His gaze swept the surroundings – it was a felt tent with many patches.

Urgent footsteps came from outside, and the curtain was suddenly lifted as a tall, lean man walked in.

Lu Zhuo had felt the little girl looked somewhat familiar, but now, seeing this Wuda man, he finally remembered.

“A’Gula, you’ve finally awakened. I, Long Bu, swore I wouldn’t leave you on the battlefield, and I always keep my word,” the Wuda man came to his bedside, turning his back to his wife and children, looking at Lu Zhuo with complex emotions.

Lu Zhuo’s heart stirred, and he replied with thanks in the Wuda language.