Zhao Hanzhang raised her eyebrows, and her body unconsciously leaned forward. “What did you say?”

Fu Tinghan turned his head slightly away to avoid her gaze. “Nothing.”

Zhao Hanzhang looked up at him and noticed his earlobes were faintly red. She couldn’t help but frown. “Professor Fu, is your wound very serious? Do you have a fever?”

“No,” Fu Tinghan turned back to sit on the wooden stool and changed the subject. “My accent hasn’t been corrected yet, so I can’t speak freely. What excuse should we find to practice refined speech together?”

Zhao Hanzhang thought for a moment and said, “I’ll handle this matter. You just need to nod when Assistant Minister Fu asks for your opinion.”

“Assistant Minister Fu?”

“That’s your current grandfather,” Zhao Hanzhang glanced at the confused Fu Tinghan. “It should be in your memories—this is the Western Jin dynasty. Your grandfather Fu Zhi is currently the Director of the Imperial Secretariat of the Great Jin. Our two families are currently discussing a marriage alliance.”

Fu Tinghan’s expression turned strange. “Between you and me?”

Zhao Hanzhang nodded.

Fu Tinghan murmured, “That’s quite a coincidence.”

Zhao Hanzhang nodded. “Indeed, quite a coincidence.”

Fu Tinghan paused for a moment, then his face flushed bright red. Feeling somewhat uncomfortable, he turned his eyes away. “You…”

Just as he was about to ask something, the steward came running in quickly. “Young master, the master has returned.”

Fu Tinghan looked toward Zhao Hanzhang.

Zhao Hanzhang smiled and said, “I’ll go pay my respects to Assistant Minister Fu.”

Fu Tinghan stood up to follow.

Seeing this, Zhao Hanzhang turned to look at him. “You’re coming too?”

Fu Tinghan said nothing but nodded.

Zhao Hanzhang didn’t refuse and had the servant women carry her to the front hall.

Fu Zhi had just returned from the Zhao residence. Upon entering, he heard that there were guests at home—Wang family’s eldest son and fourth daughter, along with Zhao Sanniang, had come together to visit Fu Changrong.

Fu Zhi was an elder. Even if there was friendship, it was with Wang Yan, not with his children whom he barely knew. As far as he knew, Changrong and Wang Xuan had a significant age gap and weren’t playmates, so their relationship was superficial. Moreover, Fu Changrong’s return to the capital hadn’t been deliberately publicized, and even some relatives and friends didn’t know.

Using one’s toes to think, one could figure out why they came.

Fu Zhi went directly to the main hall but didn’t see Zhao Sanniang.

Wang Xuan was sitting casually cross-legged by the window, drinking alone, and said to his sister who was anxiously circling beside him, “You’ve been circling for almost half a shichen. Aren’t you tired?”

“It’s been almost half a shichen—why do you think they’re still not done talking?”

“Isn’t this good?” Wang Xuan was very pleased. “If it ended quickly, that would be bad. The longer they talk, the more they like each other. The gentleman has feelings, the lady has intentions, the families both desire the alliance—perfect timing, perfect place, perfect harmony. How touching! Why aren’t you happy for them?”

Wang Fourth Miss stepped onto the mat in one stride and sat down across from him. “But Fu Changrong injured his head. Who knows what he’ll be like in the future? Besides, how can he compare to brother?”

Wang Xuan started coughing violently. The already somewhat spicy wine made his throat burn even more. After a good while, he stopped coughing. “You, you need to stop playing matchmaker.”

“Brother, if you don’t marry soon, you really won’t find a good wife. Although you’re handsome, talented, and have good character, you’re getting old! Sanniang dislikes you precisely because of your age.”

Wang Xuan’s upturned lips fell. He said seriously, “This is called maturity. Who told you I’m old? Young ladies who don’t understand romance shouldn’t speak carelessly.”

Just as they were bickering, from the corner of his eye he saw someone entering. Wang Xuan quickly stood up, straightening his sleeves as he moved to the doorway, bowing in greeting. “Assistant Minister Fu, I hope you are well.”

Fu Zhi stopped in his tracks and smiled slightly. “So it’s Young Master Wang. Please, no need for such formality. Come, sit inside and talk.”

His gaze swept around the room. Only servants were attending. He couldn’t help but frown. “Our household has been remiss in not properly receiving our honored guests. Someone come, brew fresh tea and bring refreshments.”

Wang Xuan quickly said, “It was this humble one who came uninvited. I was the one being discourteous.”

Just as they were exchanging pleasantries, more people arrived at the front hall. Fu Zhi looked through the window and immediately saw Zhao Hanzhang sitting on a sedan chair, while his grandson was walking beside it with a smile. Not knowing what Zhao Hanzhang had said, he looked up at her and smiled. The sunlight reflected on his face, making him appear almost as translucent as jade in the sunshine, radiating joy from head to toe.

Fu Zhi stared in surprise.

He hadn’t seen his grandson for five years. When he was brought back this time, he had once lost all signs of life, and the imperial physician had told them to prepare for the funeral arrangements.

He didn’t know how his grandson had spent those five years in Chang’an, or what hardships he had endured traveling from Chang’an to Luoyang. But since he had awakened, he hadn’t spoken or shown any emotion, only emanating an anxious feeling throughout his body, as if he desperately wanted to leave.

After so many days, this was the first time Fu Zhi had seen such a pure smile on his face.

Fu Zhi’s heart gradually settled, and he began to contemplate. If he went to find his old friend to propose the marriage alliance now, he probably wouldn’t be thrown out, would he?

Fu Zhi thought about it and stood up with a smile.

Zhao Hanzhang was carried in. She immediately made to dismount and perform the proper courtesies, but Fu Zhi quickly stopped her. “Sanniang, no need for such formality. Someone come, help Sanniang onto the couch.”

Zhao Hanzhang quickly protested, “My leg injury isn’t very serious. I can barely walk now. How could I be so discourteous before my elders?”

After some mutual insistence, Zhao Hanzhang finally helped herself onto the mat with Ting He’s support. Because of her leg injury, Fu Zhi had someone bring a low stool to place on the mat for her to sit on.

Fu Tinghan naturally sat down on the other side. Just as he settled, everyone turned to look at him. He raised his eyebrows and looked questioningly at Zhao Hanzhang.

Zhao Hanzhang lowered her voice and said, “That’s your grandfather’s seat. You should sit across from me…”

Fu Tinghan stood up and moved to stand opposite her.

Fu Zhi smiled awkwardly at Zhao Hanzhang. “After Dalang was injured, his memory has had some problems. He doesn’t remember many things, so his manners and etiquette are also lacking. But rest assured, there’s nothing wrong with his mind—these can all be relearned.”

There shouldn’t be any problem, right? He had just been able to listen to Zhao Hanzhang’s words…

Fu Zhi turned to invite Wang Xuan to sit as well, then took his seat in the host’s position.

Wang Fourth Miss sat to the side and slightly behind Wang Xuan, using her brother’s body to shield herself as she made faces at Zhao Hanzhang.

In front of the elders, Zhao Hanzhang maintained a particularly serious demeanor, pretending not to notice.

She said to Fu Zhi with a completely straight face, “During the chaos at the city gate earlier, I saw Young Master Fu. I thought I had mistaken someone else, but it turned out to really be Young Master Fu returned.”

She glanced at Fu Tinghan across from her and continued, “This must be our fate. Coincidentally, I also injured my head. I previously had memory loss, but these past two days I’ve been gradually remembering things. I heard that Young Master Fu has the same condition. I wonder if Assistant Minister Fu would mind if we two receive treatment together? Perhaps we might recover more quickly.”

Fu Zhi’s eyes curved with his smile. He quickly said, “I don’t mind at all, I don’t mind at all.” As long as your grandfather doesn’t mind, that’s what matters.

Fu Zhi glanced at Fu Changrong, feeling that this grandson was truly blessed. He smiled at Zhao Hanzhang and asked, “What kind of treatment do you have in mind?”

—