Bright banners fluttered, yellow paper filled the sky. The marquis residence held ritual ceremonies for a full seven days—whether for the departed former mistress or to send away those wrongfully dead souls, no one knew.
No one knew what had truly transpired in that secret chamber that day. The Old Marquis only told outsiders that the “princess” had suffered a relapse of an old illness and died from severe sickness. He insisted on not using imperial funeral rites for a princess, instead holding the funeral ceremony only in the name of the marquis residence’s lady.
On the day of the funeral, Emperor Wen came dressed in plain mourning clothes to see his “aunt” off on her final journey. When the bright yellow imperial carriage stopped before the marquis residence gates, everyone knelt in unison, shouting long life to the emperor. Xiao Du knelt at the back of the crowd, his spine straight as a rod, yet he never once raised his head to look at him. Emperor Yun passed by his side, wanting to say something, but in the end only gently pressed his shoulder.
All the ugliness from that Buddhist hall was carefully concealed. The missing lives in the residence were all blamed on Nanny Yu. The Ministry of Justice hastily concluded the trial and sentenced her, throwing her into prison to await execution. The Old Marquis found the families of the missing maids and sent them silver as compensation. But he knew better than anyone that nothing could buy back a human life—doing this was merely to console himself.
In late spring, swallows carried mud, new bamboo sprouted green, yet in the Old Marquis’s courtyard, all spring light had already passed, never to return.
Xiao Du stood before Xiao Yunjing, seeing that his hair had already turned gray-white. His once robust body was now hunched as he crouched, as if he had entered old age overnight. His heart felt a pang of sorrow as he gently advised: “The departed are gone. Father should take better care of your health.”
The Old Marquis was loosening soil around a new bamboo plant. Ever since the “princess” died, he had become increasingly reluctant to speak. Sometimes he would sit in his room in a daze for half the day. When he occasionally went out, it was only to come to this courtyard to plant trees. Hearing Xiao Du’s voice, he replied without raising his head in a flat tone: “You still won’t give up? You must know everything clearly?”
Xiao Du, having his thoughts exposed, stubbornly straightened his spine: “Your son has the right to know his own origins. Please tell me the truth, Father.”
The Old Marquis shook his head, patted the dirt from his hands, and looked seriously into his eyes: “You must think this through clearly. If you learn your true origins, many things you believe will change, and your future fate will be completely different. Can you bear such consequences?”
Xiao Du was somewhat surprised. He merely wanted to know who his birth mother was—why would Father speak so gravely? Yet he still answered firmly: “Yes, I want to know! Whatever the truth is, I can bear it.”
The Old Marquis sighed deeply: “Very well, very well. I can no longer keep it from you. After dinner, come to my room with Xi’er. I want her to face this with you.”
At evening, Xiao Du and Yuanxi came to the Old Marquis’s room as agreed. The Old Marquis dismissed the servants and personally brewed tea for them both. Steam rose, tea fragrance filled the air. The Old Marquis gazed at the half-hidden, half-visible bright moon outside the window, his gaze somewhat distant: “First taste this new Dragon Well tea, then listen to my story.”
Xiao Du and Yuanxi picked up their teacups, not understanding. The Old Marquis’s face appeared somewhat hazy in the mist as he slowly began: “Du’er, do you know that the Xiao Family Army was actually created by the Late Emperor himself?”
Xiao Du frowned. He only knew the Xiao Family Army was Father’s life’s work, but never knew it was actually established by the Late Emperor. The Old Marquis boiled another pot of water: “Back then, the Late Emperor was only the seventh prince enfeoffed as Prince Ning. In birth and favor, he couldn’t compare to the crown prince of that time. After Great Ancestor Emperor aged, although Great Mu’s national power seemed prosperous, internally it was already corrupt beyond repair. In the twenty-eighth year of Chuyuan, Wu Kingdom and Mu Rong began frequently invading the borders, even breaking through several cities with no one able to stop them. The civil and military officials in court, indulging in pleasure, were all unwilling to go to war, only continuously compromising and retreating. This retreat brought suffering to the border people. Those invaders burned, killed, and pillaged with every evil deed, nearly washing the inner cities clean. The Late Emperor saw all this. Though powerless to change anything, he had sworn to personally establish an iron cavalry. This cavalry would become a sharp blade stationed at the borders, beating those barbarians so they would never dare step foot on our territory again.”
“Unfortunately, despite his passion, he was limited by his princely status and could hardly achieve his ambitions. So he could only secretly gather a group of death row prisoners, stealthily inserting them into my army. He also bought elite weapons with great sums and used the harshest training to forge them into a pack of wolves. In the thirtieth year of Chuyuan, Hangu Pass was in crisis. The Late Emperor personally took command and went to war. The Xiao Family Army became famous from this battle, and thereafter won victory after victory, making foreign tribes flee in terror at the mere mention of their name.”
The Old Marquis’s face faintly glowed, as if returning to that passionate era. He sipped his tea and continued: “At this time, Great Ancestor Emperor’s health was declining day by day. Though the crown prince was incompetent, he had a group of powerful ministers supporting him. Later, the Late Emperor married the eldest daughter of the Xia family as his princess consort—now the Empress Dowager. Though the Empress Dowager was a woman, her ambition and vision were no less than any man’s. She convinced the entire Xia clan to fully support the Late Emperor. Relying on the illustrious military achievements established by the Xiao Family Army and the Xia family’s support, the Late Emperor finally forced Great Ancestor Emperor to depose the crown prince and ascend to the throne himself.”
Xiao Du frowned slightly. Some of these past events he had heard many times, others were completely new to him. But he still didn’t understand why the Old Marquis was telling him this.
The Old Marquis sighed: “Outsiders only said the Late Emperor married a virtuous wife who could assist with internal and external affairs. But after the Late Emperor ascended the throne, he discovered that the Xia family had supported his rise only to eliminate dissidents and gain greater autocratic power. At that time, whether the imperial guards or the Three Chancelleries and Six Ministries were almost entirely controlled by the Xia family. The Late Emperor had wanted to establish a clear and enlightened era, but helplessly, everything was constrained by the Xia family. The entire court colluded, and corruption was even worse than before. The Late Emperor fell ill from depression and once angrily questioned me: ‘Is this realm the Zhao family’s or the Xia family’s?'”
Speaking to this point, his words became somewhat halting. After a while, he continued: “What worried the Late Emperor most was the issue of heirs. Empress Xia not only repeatedly interfered in court politics on behalf of her paternal clan, but also held absolute power in the harem. To ensure her legitimate son would ascend the throne, she absolutely forbade any concubine from becoming pregnant. If she discovered any, she would force them to abort or have them executed. Thus, the Late Emperor dared not favor any other consorts. Though he knew his bloodline was being harmed, he could only endure helplessly for the stability of the realm, constrained by her father’s clan power.”
Yuanxi’s eyes widened, feeling a chill down her spine. So this was the truth behind the empress’s exclusive favor and the deep love between emperor and empress? Behind those legendary tales passed down by word of mouth, how much ugliness and sordidness was hidden?
At this moment, the Old Marquis suddenly looked up at them and continued: “But no matter how Empress Xia guarded against it, one woman in the harem still secretly became pregnant. She was the Late Emperor’s most beloved Consort Duan. Consort Duan had a gentle nature and usually never competed or caused trouble. But no one knew that such a seemingly fragile woman would have the courage to conceal her pregnancy. When the months grew larger and she knew she could no longer hide it, she secretly informed the Late Emperor. That very night, Consort Duan’s quarters caught fire. The Late Emperor told the empress that Consort Duan had burned to death in the fire, but secretly sent a guard to escort her and a personal maid out of the palace.”
Xiao Du’s heart jumped in shock. For some reason, the hand holding his teacup was already trembling. He heard the Old Marquis continue: “At that time, the capital was full of Xia family spies. The only person the Late Emperor trusted was me. So as soon as she left the palace, she was escorted to my residence. Then I hid her in Jianghan Courtyard. A few months later, she finally gave birth to a male infant.” He set down his long-cold teacup and stared at Xiao Du, speaking word by word: “And that infant was you!”
With a “bang,” the blue porcelain teacup fell to the ground, tea splashing up to wet his robe hem. But Xiao Du seemed completely unaware. He was so shocked by this news that his mind buzzed, momentarily unable to move.
Seeing him like this, the Old Marquis also felt somewhat reluctant, sighing: “So now you should understand why I was so strict with you from childhood, why I brought you to the military for training before you were even sixteen, why the Late Emperor was so eager to have you enfeoffed as marquis and given command of troops. Du’er, the Late Emperor needed to leave behind a bloodline to oppose the Xia family, to establish the dynasty he wanted to create. Do you understand?”
Xiao Du simply couldn’t digest the facts he had heard. He gripped the table tightly, and after a long while, tremblingly asked: “How did my birth mother die?”
Recalling those past events, the Old Marquis felt inevitably sorrowful: “Your mother… she died for you. At that time, the princess was also pregnant, and her timing was very similar to your mother’s. I had planned to take them both out of the residence to give birth, then bring them back to the marquis residence as twins. Who knew that Consort Duan’s maid Yunniang would see through the princess’s hatred toward you both? In her protective devotion to her mistress, to ensure you became the only legitimate son of the marquis residence, she actually poisoned and killed the child in the princess’s womb. And Consort Duan’s body was already weak after childbirth. She understood that living one more day would only bring you danger. A few days later, she entrusted you to me and committed suicide by poison.”
Xiao Yunjing’s gaze drifted far away. He still remembered how that fragile woman would hold the infant in her arms daily, unwilling to let go. Though her heart ached with reluctance, she stubbornly held back tears, not wanting her newborn child to see even a trace of sorrow. And how she resolutely took the deadly poison, just so her child could live safely in this world.
Xiao Du’s lips trembled continuously. He tightly closed his eyes, yet tears kept sliding down his cheeks. Yuanxi beside him also felt heartbroken for him, hurriedly grasping his hand to give him some comfort.
But she still couldn’t understand one thing—the Old Marquis clearly knew it was Yunniang who had killed his and the princess’s child, so why did he still allow her to remain in the marquis residence to raise Xiao Du? She didn’t know that what the Old Marquis hadn’t said was that because of the false princess affair, he had always felt he had wronged the Late Emperor and the princess, and didn’t know how to face that child who shouldn’t have been born. He knew Hua Qingyue would certainly not treat Xiao Du well, so he spared Yunniang’s life and had her do her best to care for the young master. This was the greatest recompense he could make for his and Hua Qingyue’s mistake.
The night grew deeper. A few cries of egrets came from outside the window. The Old Marquis looked at Xiao Du: “Du’er, now you know everything. How to proceed from here is for you to decide.”
Xiao Du said nothing, only rose from the table in a daze. As soon as he stood up, his body swayed somewhat. Yuanxi quickly supported him, her gaze full of concern and worry.
But Xiao Du didn’t look at anyone else, only walked out with vacant eyes. He walked past the bracket sets and flying eaves, past the hanging gates and screen walls. Suddenly he very much wanted to laugh out loud. So all along, what he thought was his duty and burden had all been lies. The family he thought he had bore no relation to him at all. So many people had died behind the scenes for his birth, and he didn’t even have the right to refuse.
He walked all the way to his own room, his body trembling continuously in the night wind. Suddenly a pair of warm hands rested on his shoulders. Looking back, he saw Yuanxi’s gentle and caring eyes. The string in his heart finally snapped, tears cascading down as he said: “Xi’er, I no longer have a home.”
Yuanxi saw him show such a lost and helpless expression for the first time. She quickly shook her head desperately through her tears: “No, you still have me. A’Du, you must remember—wherever I am, that’s your home!”