◎After thinking it through, marrying Yu Qingwu was actually a decent choice.◎

Late at night, Lan Shanjun ground ink and took up her brush, slowly writing in her diary.

“Forty-eighth year of Yuanshao, second month, eighth day, received ten taels of silver…”

Her gaze swept over the ten taels on the table, then moved away as she continued writing: “Also glimpsed his crane-like integrity. Drawing the blade beneath the corridor, the gentleman so graceful—I felt that worldly justice should not allow those who kill their wives to prove their dao to ascend while those who plead for the people’s welfare descend to the Yellow Springs.”

How utterly unjust.

For the first time, she set aside her diary, no longer looking at that pitiable paper companion from her previous life, but only at the living, breathing Yu Qingwu standing in the spring light.

In that faint spring radiance, she saw his hesitation and pain in parting from Wu Qingchuan, and also saw his clear conscience—though bearing Elder Brother’s mission forward, he still refused to taint himself with innocent lives.

He was alive and present here, making her feel that such a good person deserved to live.

If the King of Hell’s Book of Life and Death required life for life, it should be Song Zhiwei dying in Yu Qingwu’s place.

Returning for a second life, she had always thought about fighting Song Zhiwei to the death, then later fighting Prince Qi to the death. Fundamentally, she had never imagined she could live well after avenging her great grievances.

But today’s sudden surge of melancholy ignited a fire in her heart, making her want to burn away the winter snow imprisoning them.

Why should those of them struggling desperately to live be toyed with unto death by the powerful? Why should they, merely seeking justice and repaying a life debt, not even dare to imagine survival?

In the silent depths of night, Lan Shanjun suddenly wanted to seek a path to life for both of them.

She and Yu Qingwu should both live, should both live to a hundred years.

Having this thought, her breathing quickened slightly, her heart gaining a measure of vitality. This vitality made her uncomfortable, felt as unstable as an insect clinging to life, forcing her to pace circles around the room.

Walking back and forth, her gaze circling, she caught sight of the ten taels Yu Qingwu had given her.

She froze momentarily, fetched a box, and solemnly placed the ten taels inside before stopping to catch her breath.

This was his sincerity. He was someone who always acted with genuine feeling.

She exhaled, then felt happy that such a companion existed in this world.

—

In the palace, the Imperial Grand Prince and his wife stood with their two children outside Changle Palace seeking an audience with Empress Duan. Seventeen years ago, after the death of the Late Crown Prince and Duan Boyan, the Empress had never left this palace nor been willing to see people. Even for the Imperial Grand Prince’s family, she only granted an audience once a month on the tenth day, and sometimes not even then.

A young palace attendant went in to ask as usual, then emerged delightedly to tell the Imperial Grand Prince: “Her Majesty the Empress requests that you and the Grand Princess Consort enter.”

The Imperial Grand Prince carried his daughter in his arms, held his son’s hand, and entered with his wife to pay respects to his imperial grandmother.

The Empress was only ten years younger than the Emperor and had also aged. She sat on her bed drinking medicine, and seeing them showed no particular reaction, merely had seats arranged.

The Imperial Grand Prince had grown accustomed to her attitude. He said gently: “Imperial Grandmother, you’re looking much better recently.”

The Empress said flatly, “Not dying is sufficient.”

The Imperial Grand Prince smiled and continued asking about her recent affairs. After inquiring for a while, he glanced around and smiled: “Yuanniang, take the children out to play for a bit.”

The Grand Princess Consort was surprised but stood up, “Alright, they’ve been restless for a while anyway.”

The Empress watched silently. After everyone left, she said: “Has something happened?”

The Imperial Grand Prince smiled, “So you see, if your grandson has matters, you’ll help anyway. Why put on such a distant appearance?”

The Empress reclined on the couch, “Speak. Let’s see if I can help.”

The Imperial Grand Prince: “There is indeed something I must ask Imperial Grandmother about.”

He walked to the bedside and picked up a fragrant pear to peel, saying quietly: “I want to ask Imperial Grandmother—did Great-Uncle actually not die back then?”

The Empress’s languid body instantly sat upright. Her sharp eyes looked over, “What?”

The Imperial Grand Prince: “First tell me if it’s true.”

The Empress’s eyes narrowed slightly, “You’ve seen him?”

The Imperial Grand Prince’s knife paused—he understood everything and no longer needed to risk sending people to investigate in Shuzhou.

He exhaled and shook his head, “No, the old gentleman passed away five years ago.”

Though the Empress had achieved indifference to all matters and emotions, hearing this her eyes still moistened as she said quietly: “How did you learn of this?”

The Imperial Grand Prince: “A young lady from Huailing brought his ring sword to Luoyang.”

He said: “I learned of it by chance.”

He recounted the whole story and sighed: “Great-Uncle probably didn’t know her background, so he left the sword to her. Who knew she would end up entering Luoyang by accident.”

The Empress couldn’t speak for a long time, then asked softly, “What is the young lady like?”

The Imperial Grand Prince: “I haven’t seen her yet and don’t dare inquire rashly. In a few days the Song family is hosting a flower-viewing banquet—she’ll attend, and I’ll go observe.”

A pear peeled, he passed it to the Empress, “Imperial Grandmother, does Imperial Grandfather know Great-Uncle survived?”

The Empress nodded.

“He knows…”

She murmured: “Back then your father took his own life, and before dying, only begged His Majesty to spare your great-uncle.”

“His Majesty agreed.”

But she hadn’t expected her brother to live so long.

She said, “When he left, his spirits were crushed and he had no will to live. I thought… he would at most visit the place where Ah Ming died before passing away.”

Ah Ming was Duan Boyan’s son, who had died in battle in Shuzhou years ago.

She recalled: “After Ah Ming died, Elder Brother never dreamed of him. A monk told him this was because Ah Ming’s spirit remained in Shuzhou—he didn’t want to return, so naturally couldn’t appear in dreams in Luoyang.”

So this departure resulted in twelve more years of life?

The Imperial Grand Prince had his answer—this was what he had surmised. He said: “Given Imperial Grandfather’s temperament, he probably still doesn’t know about the young lady.”

The Empress nodded, “Even if he knows, it doesn’t matter. He’s old now and has developed some false mercy.”

When he killed his son back then he was clean and decisive, but now in old age, he’s begun reminiscing about past goodness.

She said: “He’s increasingly displeased with Prince Qi these days—you should be doing fairly well recently?”

The Imperial Grand Prince: “Compared to the days when I could only study in the Eastern Palace, quite well indeed.”

The Empress sighed, “You have more patience than your father.”

She shook her head, unwilling to speak of her deceased son, and only instructed the Imperial Grand Prince: “Regarding the young lady, pretend you know nothing. It’s better not to interfere.”

She said: “Otherwise you might spoil things.”

Just as she couldn’t interfere in the Imperial Grand Prince’s affairs—any interference would be deemed a transgression by the Emperor.

But the Imperial Grand Prince didn’t think so.

He said: “She’s still our family’s child, and a young lady at that. Surely helping with her marriage match is harmless?”

“Great-Uncle left no descendants, so the young lady is his only bloodline.”

He said, “Imperial Grandmother, do you know what her name is?”

The Empress: “What is it?”

The Imperial Grand Prince’s eyes brightened, “Shanjun.”

This beautiful name had ultimately fallen to her.

He was truly envious.

He said: “Your grandson understands your meaning and won’t interfere otherwise, but she’s currently seeking a marriage match. Your grandson thinks we should find her a good husband. Otherwise, knowing but doing nothing—actually in the eyes of—”

He pointed toward the Imperial Study, “In that person’s eyes, it would also be our transgression. He would think us cold-blooded and heartless.”

The Empress agreed with this. Having spent decades at the Emperor’s side, she could predict some things accurately: “Then do it quietly, as if unintentionally. Don’t let it show. If His Majesty doesn’t know, fine. If he knows, it’s merely a young lady marrying into a good family.”

The Emperor was capricious but not cruel. That great incident years ago ended with the Crown Prince’s suicide and ultimately didn’t implicate many others.

The Imperial Grand Prince: “Rest assured, your grandson understands. It’s just a bond of kinship.”

He had already finished peeling another pear. He took out a clean handkerchief to wrap it, “This one is for Yuanniang.”

He stood up, “Imperial Grandmother, this is a good thing. Please take some comfort from it and stop blaming yourself. That matter back then had nothing to do with you.”

The Empress turned her face away, “Go quickly. Why do you worry so much at such a young age!”

The Imperial Grand Prince left. Standing beneath the towering palace walls, he slowly exhaled a breath of turbid air before smiling and calling for his wife and children, “Let’s go, we must return home.”

The Grand Princess Consort approached: “What did you discuss with Imperial Grandmother?”

The Imperial Grand Prince: “I can’t tell you yet, so I peeled you a pear.”

The Grand Princess Consort had no intention of asking further. Taking the pear, she began eating: “It’s quite good actually.”

The Imperial Grand Prince: “May I have a bite?”

With one bite he took half, holding the pear and laughing heartily.

Turning around, he encountered the Emperor.

The Emperor smiled watching them play, walked over and took the two children’s hands, “Coming from your imperial grandmother’s place?”

After the family paid respects and nodded, the Imperial Grand Prince said: “I brought the children today—Imperial Grandmother always shows favor.”

The Emperor: “You should come every time!”

The Imperial Grand Prince: “One can’t think that way. Sometimes the old lady finds me annoying—I can’t pretend not to know.”

The Imperial Grand Prince greatly resembled the Late Crown Prince. The older he grew, the more alike.

In the past when the Emperor resented the Crown Prince, he found the Imperial Grand Prince’s face detestable and refused to see him, keeping him confined to study in the Eastern Palace. But in recent years, reminiscing about the Late Crown Prince, he felt the Imperial Grand Prince’s face was truly fine—heaven’s gift to him, giving him a chance to make amends to the Crown Prince.

The Emperor sighed, “Forget it, best not to force her.”

He asked again, “Why are A’Li and A’Man covered in sweat?”

The Imperial Grand Prince: “Imperial Grandmother’s room was too stuffy, full of medicine smells. They couldn’t sit still and went out to play with Yuanniang for a while.”

Hearing this, the Emperor fell silent. After a long while he said: “Year after year, everyone’s health deteriorates.”

Elder Sister’s health was also worsening—she hadn’t entered the palace to see him this month.

The Emperor waved his hand, “Let mother and sons return first. I have matters to discuss with you.”

The Grand Princess Consort quickly left with the children, unwilling to stay a moment longer.

The Emperor was somewhat displeased, “When Yuanniang was little and saw me, she was like a monkey. How is she now like a mouse?”

The Imperial Grand Prince: “Didn’t you notice? She has blisters on her lips!”

The Emperor laughed heartily, “Sneaking spicy food again?”

The Imperial Grand Prince was helpless: “A lifelong habit. I don’t want her to change.”

The Emperor understood.

With people around him changing one by one, having one who remained unchanged was better than anything.

The two went to the Imperial Study. The Emperor told him about Duke Songguo’s affairs.

Duke Songguo had always been the Emperor’s man, unconnected to the Eastern Palace, Prince Qi, or Prince Wei.

But recently both Prince Qi and Prince Wei had privately extended hands toward him.

Duke Songguo, an old fox, entered the palace to cry to the Emperor: “What should I do? I have three sons total—the Prince Qi’s heir has taken a liking to the eldest, Prince Wei’s heir to the third. If they’re really pulled over, will I still have a family?”

The Emperor laughed: “Has the Grand Prince approached your second son?”

Duke Songguo: “I have him sitting at home waiting, but the Grand Prince never comes.”

The Emperor laughed heartily, both approving Duke Songguo’s loyalty and dissatisfied with the Imperial Grand Prince’s slow temperament: “The younger generation has all begun moving, yet he remains unhurried?”

Duke Songguo: “Why don’t you ask him?”

The Emperor waved his hand, “Enough, enough. Stop pretending before me. You’re just here to complain.”

Duke Songguo: “I’ve followed you for decades—can’t I even complain? Fortunately I discovered early, otherwise how could I remain in that household? I can’t favor anyone.”

Indeed. The Emperor felt he suffered similarly, “Prince Qi and Prince Wei have increasingly lost brotherly affection, always saying I’m partial. The younger ones have good relationships though—regardless of their fathers’ conflicts, they always stay together.”

Duke Songguo: “So I immediately gathered all the grandsons to study together.”

The Emperor was very proud. Back then, seeing his sons becoming increasingly unreasonable, he gathered the grandsons to study together, which cultivated their current camaraderie.

But having the Imperial Grand Prince, as a junior, contend with his uncles was still somewhat weak.

The Emperor was still worried. After Duke Songguo left, he summoned the Imperial Grand Prince over: “You’ve been idle recently anyway. Would you like to follow Duke Songguo to the Ministry of Revenue for experience?”

The Imperial Grand Prince showed a stunned expression and hesitated: “That’s acceptable?”

The Emperor scolded: “What do you mean ‘acceptable’? You should agree immediately.”

When fortune falls from heaven, why hesitate? He asked, “I hear Young Yang and Young Bai have been making big moves. Two of Duke Songguo’s three sons have been pulled away—why haven’t you acted?”

The Imperial Grand Prince: “I have acted.”

He said, “I’ve recently been cultivating Wu Qingchuan’s disciple.”

The Emperor was surprised: “Why cultivate him?”

The Imperial Grand Prince: “He has ability. Your grandson examined carefully—though he’s grown somewhat crooked under Wu Qingchuan all these years, he’s fundamentally decent and recently reforming. With guidance and discipline, he can be useful.”

The Emperor didn’t take Yu Qingwu seriously, saying casually: “Then give it a try.”

The Imperial Grand Prince nodded.

This established matters openly before the Emperor.

He stood up: “Since I’m going to the Ministry of Revenue, I must ask Duke Songguo for guidance.”

The Emperor now found everything about him pleasing and said with a smile: “Go ahead. As Imperial Grand Prince, you should be doing more work.”

…

Lan Shanjun knew nothing of palace affairs. With the Song family banquet approaching, her thoughts were entirely on Song family matters these days.

She didn’t avoid encountering Song family members, nor fear meeting Song Zhiwei.

She only feared too many changes occurring before she had the ability to protect herself.

This variable, she projected onto the Imperial Grand Prince.

She wanted to test the Imperial Grand Prince’s attitude toward her.

Thus she actually anticipated this Song family flower-viewing banquet.

In her mind, she practiced repeatedly what to say and do if she encountered the Imperial Grand Prince without exposing herself, carefully pondering minute vulnerabilities in her worried brow, when she heard Madam Zhao knocking outside: “Miss, Seventh Miss has arrived.”

Lan Shanjun hesitated momentarily before opening the door to see Huihui burrow into her embrace crying.

She quickly asked, “What’s happened?”

Lan Hui hung her head dejectedly: “I quarreled with Mother.”

Lan Shanjun couldn’t comment. Affairs between biological mother and daughter—others shouldn’t advise or speak. If you advise and speak, when they reconcile, you become the world’s foremost instigator.

Having suffered such losses before, she had developed the habit of not speaking up.

Rain began falling outside.

Though Lan Hui had an umbrella, she still got somewhat wet, her clothes damp. Lan Shanjun had hot water heated for her to wash, and sent Lan Hui’s maid back to fetch clothing.

Then closing the door, she had her first put on her own clothes and sit wrapped in quilts on the bed. Huihui obediently dressed, discovering Sixth Sister was much taller and larger than herself. She said enviously: “Will I grow as tall as you in the future?”

Lan Shanjun shook her head, “Probably not.”

When Huihui married, she was a full head shorter than her.

She took out a thick towel to dry Huihui’s hair: “We’ll also need to dry it by the brazier shortly.”

The hot water hadn’t arrived yet. Sitting idly with nothing to say, she asked again: “Would you like to read?”

Huihui shook her head, “No, I can’t focus on reading now.”

She looked at Sixth Sister, really wanting her to ask why she quarreled with Mother. But Sixth Sister seemed like a monk in meditation, moving aside to flip through a book without turning back.

Huihui pouted: “Sixth Sister!”

Lan Shanjun turned her head, helplessly: “What?”

Lan Hui said bitterly: “Mother wants me to marry Song family’s Third Young Master.”

Only then did Lan Shanjun close her book in surprise.

Mother actually had such thoughts?

She said hesitantly: “That’s unlikely. Song family’s Third Young Master is four years older than you—it’s time for him to seek marriage.”

Huihui was too young. In the previous life, Song San married General Zhe’s eldest legitimate daughter Zhe Dai, who hadn’t yet returned from Yunzhou to Luoyang.

Lan Hui also felt it impossible. She said: “Mother knows this herself but wants me to try anyway.”

How to try? Nothing more than flattering Duke Songguo’s wife excessively.

Mother herself felt humbling herself before Old Madam Shou to seek a match for Sixth Sister was lowering herself, but now wanted her to embarrass herself in public.

She wrapped herself in quilts and sneezed: “Which Luoyang lady or miss isn’t sharp as a tack? You make one move and they know your intentions. I won’t go—I’d rather never marry than lose face like that!”

Lan Shanjun handed her hot tea: “Then don’t go. If you don’t, with so many watching, Mother values face and won’t make things difficult for you.”

Lan Hui: “Mother is too concerned with appearances! But if she wants face, she should press Elder Brother and Third Brother to excel and become officials—don’t press us.”

She held her tea, complaining: “Just wait, Sixth Sister. Mother will surely arrange a good match for you too!”

The three words “good match” were said through gritted teeth, attempting to find shared sentiment with Lan Shanjun. But Lan Shanjun was quite unfamiliar with sisters privately discussing their mother. After thinking, she said: “She did mention it once, but Mother told me Duke Songguo’s residence is ultimately different from our family—mismatched doors and households—I couldn’t marry in, and told me not to develop other thoughts.”

Hearing this, Lan Hui froze, quite embarrassed, not knowing what to say.

Mother wanted her to aspire above her station to the Song family, yet felt Sixth Sister couldn’t aspire that high.

What kind of situation was this!

She closed her mouth, unable to continue speaking. Lan Shanjun finally gained some peace and consoled: “These are small matters. Marriage affairs—when the boat reaches the bridge, it works out.”

Huihui could only think this way. But having spoken to this point, she asked: “Sixth Sister, what kind of match is Old Madam Shou preparing to arrange for you?”

Lan Shanjun didn’t understand at first: “What?”

Huihui: “A few days ago Mother went to ask Old Madam Shou to be matchmaker, wanting her to help arrange your match.”

“Didn’t Old Madam Shou also call you over to ask?”

Lan Shanjun shook her head, “She didn’t say anything, only gave me a sword.”

But just as the words landed, she recalled Nanny Qian’s somewhat strange actions and expressions at the time, and later Yu Qingwu’s complete inability to look at her.

She hadn’t paid attention then, focused entirely on how to maneuver with him. But now thinking back, it was odd throughout.

She wasn’t truly an innocent young lady—she had even helped others arrange matches before. Thinking slightly, she understood and found it both funny and exasperating, feeling the two old ladies were playing nonsense.

Given Yu Qingwu’s hurried departure at the time, he probably hadn’t agreed.

Moreover, she remembered—in his previous life until death, he never married or had children.

Someone had once praised him for this: “A man who stands alone, willing to risk everything yet doesn’t harm wife or daughter—truly admirable.”

But after Huihui left, she sat alone by the window basking in the sun. Perhaps because the spring light was too warm, her thoughts also took on the warmth of sunshine. So reviewing matters from beginning to end, she felt that if Yu Qingwu never married in his lifetime, marrying her wouldn’t be bad.

Neither of them had the mind for romance, both single-mindedly traveling through stars and moon, naturally unable to attend to romantic matters.

They felt no love for each other, yet could walk one stretch of road together, could support each other.

Being nominal husband and wife on the surface would be excellent.

Moreover, if she wanted to accomplish things, she couldn’t remain unmarried forever.

If the Imperial Grand Prince recognized her through this ring sword incident, presumably her marriage to Song Zhiwei wouldn’t be far off.

She certainly wasn’t willing to marry him. Then she’d need an excuse.

Thinking it through this way, marrying Yu Qingwu was actually a decent choice.

Taking ten thousand steps back—for people like them, if heaven wasn’t merciful and they truly didn’t survive in the end, they could agree to collect each other’s corpses for burial.

At least one person could have a grave. Unlike the previous life—he had no complete corpse, discarded in a mass grave. As for her, probably no one would go collect her either. Perhaps not even a handful of earth would cover her body—hardly counting as a proper burial.

Thinking this way, feeling even posthumous affairs arranged properly, there was nothing left to fear.

Only this sort of matter—she didn’t know if he’d be willing to agree or what he truly thought. She couldn’t rashly speak up and could only keep it in mind, asking Nanny Qian to test him again in the future.

That evening in her diary she wrote with bitter humor: “Two people stained with ill fortune, having met, are like regenerating bone marrow—life begins to have anticipation.”