A look of longing appeared on Yan Zhitui’s face. After a moment, he leaned against the carriage wall and said: “Whether this old fool can live past this year is still uncertain—how dare I hope to live another hundred years? Spring flourishes, summer grows, autumn harvests, winter kills—all things are like this, and people should be the same. This old fool barely qualifies as a winter cicada. Just one heavy snowfall and I’ll return to the earth. I won’t be able to see the magnificent scene you describe. In the future, if you can see it, remember anything particularly outstanding and burn it at my grave so I can enjoy it too.”

“I won’t be so foolish! If you die, shouldn’t you hurry up and reincarnate instead of staying in a grave? A golden age is about to arrive—this is the best time to be human. You’ve struggled through a hundred years in this lifetime, so next life you’ll definitely be one of those literary romantic figures. Perhaps the famous poems that become household names will come from your brush. When you’re enjoying yourself at the brothels then, remember to call me over. Just give me a hint. Old sir, do you think we should wink our left eye or right eye when we meet?”

“Ha ha ha!” Yan Zhitui laughed so hard he could barely breathe, patting his chest and saying: “Talking with you is truly comfortable. The children at home are afraid to even mention the word ‘death’ in my presence—only you don’t avoid it. Good! If such a day comes, and when I cross the Bridge of Helplessness I don’t drink that bowl of Lady Meng’s soup and still remember my past and present lives, I’ll definitely give you a hint. Ha ha ha!”

Yan Zhitui’s family also had a residence in Xinghua Ward, nestled deep within an orchard. When the pear blossoms bloomed in spring, this place must be a paradise on earth. Yun Ye helped Yan Zhitui down from the carriage and onto a wheelchair that the family had prepared. It rolled with a rumbling sound toward the main gate. The old man didn’t look back, only raised one hand and waved it as a farewell.

Yun Ye stood beneath the pear tree until the Yan family’s main gate closed tightly before returning to his carriage. Behind him, the last few leaves on the pear tree were plucked off by the cold wind. They spun and tumbled as the wind lifted them high into the air, gradually sinking into darkness, falling who knows where.

Xinyue sat at the small table in front of the silk lantern, propping up her chin as she waited for her husband to return. Na Rimu had also been waiting, but she had just been nursing the child. After the baby fell asleep with a full belly, Na Rimu had also fallen asleep, her full breasts exposed with a drop of milk still hanging on her crimson nipple. Unable to bear the sight, Xinyue got up to properly cover Na Rimu’s clothing. Seeing the baby sleeping carelessly beside her mother while Na Rimu clutched a pillow tightly, Xinyue shook her head helplessly. She picked up the baby and carried her to the cradle in the inner room, then returned to sit at the table and wait.

The door opened and Yun Ye walked in, bringing with him a biting cold air. Seeing Xinyue about to rise, he waved his hand, took off his cloak himself and hung it on the coat rack. He warmed his whole body by the iron stove before rubbing his hands together and coming to Xinyue’s side, asking quietly: “Why aren’t you asleep yet? It’s already the third watch. If I hadn’t borrowed the convenience of seeing Old Master Yan off, I’d still be at Wanmin Palace right now. Didn’t I tell you not to wait up for me? It’s not unusual for palace banquets to continue until dawn.”

Xinyue poured her husband a cup of tea and said with a smile: “How could anyone sleep peacefully before you returned? Not like that one on the bed—after feeding the child, she doesn’t even know to dress properly and just fell asleep clutching a pillow with her chest exposed, tossing the child aside.”

“That’s just her temperament—still has a child’s disposition. Having her take the baby back to the grasslands when spring comes really makes me somewhat worried. But without the child by her side, Na Rimu would be too pitiful, so there’s no choice. Enough, let’s not talk about these troubling matters. You must be very tired too. We need to return to Yushan tomorrow, so sleep early.”

Xinyue responded with a sound of acknowledgment. She brought over the wooden basin from beside the stove, added some hot water, and washed the feet of Yun Ye as he sat on the bedside. Previously, Yun Ye had been very uncomfortable with others washing his feet, but over these few years he’d gradually grown accustomed to it. Whether Xinyue or Na Rimu, when he was in Lingnan, Li Anlan had done the same. This was a way of showing intimacy in the Great Tang—it wasn’t about anyone oppressing anyone. When Xinyue and Na Rimu were recovering from childbirth, Yun Ye had washed their feet plenty. Later he stopped because whenever he washed them, they cried so much their tears wouldn’t stop flowing—too troublesome for money.

Na Rimu seemed to sense her husband’s return in her sleep. She threw away the pillow and burrowed into Yun Ye’s arms. The clothing that had just been properly fastened came open again. Xinyue, dissatisfied, washed her husband’s feet while watching him frantically try to cover Na Rimu with the quilt. She wished she could just eat that pair of snow-white breasts like steamed buns…

Raising chickens in the city was a bad habit. Before dawn they’d crow nonsensically. Last night Yun Ye hadn’t slept well. The baby had suddenly burst into wailing cries in the middle of the night. No matter how the wet nurse tried to soothe her, it was useless. Na Rimu held her but she still cried, wouldn’t nurse—as soon as the nipple entered her mouth she’d immediately spit it out. Na Rimu paced in circles anxiously. After Yun Ye took the baby, the child immediately stopped crying. It was quite miraculous—Yun Ye couldn’t figure out the reason.

“It must be because you returned too late and brought something unclean back that startled the baby. Your concubine, the wet nurse, and Na Rimu are all women with heavy yin energy and cannot suppress evil spirits. Only you with your yang energy can make the demons retreat. Tomorrow we must invite some dharma masters to perform rituals.”

Hearing Xinyue’s ghost and spirit talk, Yun Ye said irritably: “Are you sure it wasn’t your cries last night that frightened the child?” Na Rimu quickly nodded and gestured with her hand to indicate how loud Xinyue had been last night.

Embarrassed and angry, Xinyue burrowed into the quilt and pulled Na Rimu away too, leaving only Yun Ye sitting at the head of the bed holding the child and dozing. The baby wasn’t having it and started wailing at the top of her lungs again. With no choice, Yun Ye had to stand up and walk back and forth with the child, needing to sing for the baby to quiet down.

By the time the baby fell asleep, Yun Ye was so tired he was swaying. Just as he prepared to sleep for a while, that damned rooster started crowing. Yun Ye hated it so much he almost wanted to rush to the chicken coop, wring that diligent fellow’s neck, and throw it to the kitchen for lunch.

Day broke. The baby slept. Yun Ye also slept. Seeing her husband unwilling to get up, Xinyue had no choice but to tell the guards that the Marquis would not return to Yushan today—they’d go back tomorrow instead.

Not returning to Yushan didn’t mean Yun Ye got to sleep. He’d forgotten that as Commander of the Lingnan Navy, wherever he went, ceremonial axes had to be placed at his door—a long-handled broken axe tied with many red tassels. The shape was strange, but it was a symbol of authority indicating the master was definitely home. When the master was home, visitors were inevitable. Ordinary visitors could be turned away with the excuse that the master was ill and shouldn’t receive guests. But some persistent visitors didn’t care about such protocols—for example, Zhangsun.

Zhangsun hadn’t slept all night yet remained remarkably radiant. For a woman approaching forty to still have such energy was truly admirable. When Zhangsun came, Yun Ye had no need to pretend. He exchanged desultory words with her, curled up in his chair like a puddle of mud, struggling to persevere, wanting to send Zhangsun away so he could continue sleeping.

“Just a few years and a perfectly good young man has sunk into soft indulgence without restraint. Early in the morning looking like mud. Xinyue, get him a basin of cold water and let him properly wake up.” Seeing Yun Ye’s evasive and irrelevant answers, Zhangsun immediately became angry. Xinyue dared not disobey and promptly brought a water basin to wipe her husband’s face with cold water.

Suddenly awake, Yun Ye said with a bitter smile: “Your Majesty, last night the baby cried all night. Except when I held her, no one could do anything with that tiny child. She only settled down at dawn.”

Hearing this explanation, Zhangsun’s expression softened. She asked Yun Ye: “Where did you hide that jade pendant? I want to look at it again. The song you sang last night really does resemble a wondrous tune from an immortal palace, so I very much want to see it.”

“Your Majesty, of course the jade pendant exists. I’ve hidden it. If you want to see it, that’s no problem—I wouldn’t even mind giving it to you. But if His Majesty sees it, that would be bad. The best method would be for you to look at it, then we smash it to powder. That way everything’s settled once and for all, and no one needs to think about immortal realms anymore.”

Yun Ye was truly getting annoyed. Such a strange place clearly didn’t exist, yet people insisted it did. Each one deadly serious, willing to throw away their lives over it—and those who died were all elite figures.

Zhangsun hesitated somewhat. She knew very well what sort of character her husband had. If he truly got hold of the jade pendant and became obsessed, that would be most unfortunate. Right now her husband couldn’t bring himself to ask Yun Ye for the jade pendant—he still needed to maintain his sage ruler image. But when someday this curiosity could no longer be restrained, it would be strange if something terrible didn’t happen.

“Very well, I won’t look at it. Hide that thing properly and don’t throw out fake ones anymore. Every time you throw one out, many people die under heaven. Now I’ve already ordered that the palace must not mention this jade pendant being fake. Anyway, only those few people saw it—sealing their mouths is easy.”

Hearing Zhangsun speak so casually, Yun Ye’s mind was already filled with corpses strewn everywhere. Previously when watching palace dramas, whenever a consort unexpectedly became pregnant, a large number of people would die. Let alone something like a map of the White Jade Capital—such a super secret. Wouldn’t many people have already been thrown into wells? No wonder those with authority in the palace all drank spring water from the mountains—only those with no choice drank well water that had soaked corpses.

Seeing Yun Ye shudder, Zhangsun slapped the table and said: “What are you imagining? Is I the kind of cruel, murderous person? A broken jade pendant isn’t worth as much as human life. Are you saying that in your heart I’m a vicious woman?”

Yun Ye said in a small voice submissively: “Last time when the palace was bombed, I saw you holding a bloody knife. I was so scared I didn’t dare approach. If you were in a bad mood and gave me a slash, I would have died unjustly.”

This one sentence left Zhangsun speechless. She tapped the table, walked around twice, then suddenly came before Yun Ye. She reached out and grabbed his ear, twisting hard. It hurt so much Yun Ye kept crying out.

“You count as my disciple. To view your teacher this way is already great disrespect. Today let’s properly settle old accounts with you. A marquis who shares in the nation’s fortunes has become as lazy and indolent as you are—heaven must have been blind. Today you actually had the gall to secretly criticize me. Next time you’ll have the gall to curse His Majesty. But you’ve probably already done that, haven’t you? Beating you up wouldn’t be wronging you, would it?”