After the Zhu family’s conspicuous arrival, the other relatives and old family connections of the Hua family gradually began to stir.

Yet most merely sent their stewards to offer incense on their behalf.

Wu Shi’s own family, whom she had been waiting and longing for, also sent someone at last — her second elder brother, Wu Zerui, a man who held little standing in the Wu household and had never entered officialdom.

Seeing his sister’s face drained of all color, Wu Zerui let out a long sigh. “Father is very likely to advance further in position. Right now things are at a critical juncture, and no one in the family dares be careless. It isn’t that Father and Mother don’t love you, Haitang. Don’t blame them. If Father truly does advance further, he’ll be able to do more for you in the future — more for your children too. Even if you truly wanted to bring the children back to stay at home, it wouldn’t be out of the question.”

“I won’t go back.”

“Third Sister…”

“I won’t go back.” Wu Shi raised her head. Her eyes were red-rimmed, yet dry of tears. “Right now you can distance yourselves from the Hua family because Father may advance in position. In the future, you may find other reasons to leave me behind as well. I am already Wu Shi of the Hua family. I understand all of this. But Second Brother, you must also understand me.”

Wu Shi’s voice was hoarse. “To put it plainly, the Wu family has cast off this daughter of theirs in pursuit of wealth and status. A family that can abandon me once can abandon me again. How greatly would I have to dishonor Mother’s teachings to still hold out hope that my family would truly take me back home?”

“Third Sister, you’re reading too much into this. It isn’t as serious as all that.”

“Whether it is or isn’t, we both know the answer in our hearts. Second Brother, please go.”

“Third Sister…”

“After all, you never intended to stay and help me, did you?”

Wu Zerui’s face cycled through a turbulent succession of colors — shame, anger, and guilt all competing at once. His sister had spoken plainly, yet she had not spoken falsely. If it weren’t so, they wouldn’t have sent him.

“Go,” she said. “Tell Mother that I also hope for our family’s prosperity. But from now on, it would be better if we no longer keep in touch. The Hua family won’t leave me wanting for food or clothing. I will manage to live.”

Wu Zerui said nothing more in the end. He offered a brief “take care of yourself” and left. He had only come to deliver a message — he had no power to make any decisions. Yet watching the sister he had cherished since childhood reduced to this state, how could his heart not ache?

But when interests were at stake, everything changed.

Wu Shi covered her mouth, sobbing uncontrollably. She understood it all — understood it perfectly, and even accepted it. Yet who was there to care about her grief?

Hua Zhi stood not far away, watching with a composed and distant expression. The moment the Wu family had remained without movement for so long, she had already half-guessed the truth. A family that truly treasured their daughter — like her maternal grandmother — would have arrived at the break of dawn. They would not have waited until now.

Truly, she thought. A single funeral, and she had witnessed the full measure of human nature — the warmth and coldness of the world.

Most likely, they all assumed the Hua family was finished.

“Young Miss, the Song family has sent someone.”

Hua Zhi turned and walked away. Only when she was at a distance did she ask, “Who came?”

Bao Xia gritted her teeth. “Only the young master of the family.”

Hua Zhi’s footsteps paused briefly, then she continued toward the mourning hall.

Hua Jing’s eldest son was named Song Chenghao, eighteen years of age. He wore a smile for everyone he met and was extraordinarily skilled with words — he had once been greatly favored by the Old Madam of the Hua family. Hua Zhi, however, had always made a point of avoiding him. The man was plainly born with the look of someone fickle and shallow — his smiles never once reached his eyes.

At this moment, Song Chenghao finished offering incense and prostrating himself, then looked around for someone to speak with. All he saw were young children who hadn’t seen much of the world. A trace of contempt crept into his expression. The Hua family had truly run its course.

“Who is currently in charge of the household?”

Because of Hua Jing’s matters, no one in the Hua family had any patience for him — yet ignoring a guest entirely was not the Hua family’s way. Hua Bailin was just about to offer some strained words in response when his elder sister’s voice reached them from outside the mourning hall.

“I am.”

Song Chenghao turned to look at her, and his brow immediately creased. “Elder Cousin?”

Hua Zhi approached. “If Cousin intends to observe mourning, I will have someone bring you mourning garments at once.”

“That isn’t necessary.” The words had barely left his mouth when Song Chenghao felt he had refused too quickly. He covered his mouth and gave a low, feigned cough, then offered an explanation. “Cousin may not be aware — I have been suffering from a head cold for several days now. If it weren’t for being bedridden, I would never have delayed my visit until today. Of course I would be willing to keep vigil for our grandmother. I only feared that it might end up causing trouble for the Hua family instead.”

What a convenient excuse. What impeccably timed illness. Hua Zhi stepped past him and knelt on the prayer mat, tearing sheets of paper money one by one and feeding them into the brazier. “Then please do go home and tend to your health, Cousin. The heart behind it matters more than the form.”

Song Chenghao could not quite work out how many meanings her words carried. He wanted to press further but was afraid she might invoke propriety outright and make him stay to keep vigil. He decided to steer the conversation elsewhere instead. “Is Cousin truly the one managing the Hua household now?”

“If Cousin has something to say, please speak directly.”

“Then I will. Why is my mother not allowed into the mourning hall to keep vigil? Why is she being made to sit out in the freezing cold?”

“I have nothing to say on the matter.” Hua Zhi brushed the paper ash from her hands, then looked back at him. “Go ask her yourself, Cousin.”

Song Chenghao’s brow furrowed deeply. Was there something here he didn’t know about? With that thought, he genuinely turned and walked toward the main gate.

Hua Bailin was so furious he ground his teeth. “He actually just left! Grandmother doted on him so much while she was alive, and he just— he just—”

“The person who doted on him is gone. He can no longer gain anything from the Hua family.” Hua Zhi glanced at Steward Xu. Steward Xu understood at once and called over his youngest son, Xu Ying, to whisper a few instructions. Xu Ying ran off toward the front gate.

Out under the awning, the haggard-looking Hua Jing was no longer huddled close to the brazier wrapped in her blankets. She had risen to her feet and was craning her neck, watching the movement at the front gate. When she saw her son emerge, her eyes lit up. “Hao’er…”

Song Chenghao dropped onto the sole stool beside the brazier and launched straight into his questions. “What exactly happened? Don’t try to fool me. The Hua family wouldn’t be acting this way unless they had something to back them up.”

Having her son cut her off before she could speak sent a flare of anger rising in Hua Jing — but she swallowed it down. She listened carefully to what her son had said and realized that, just as she had anticipated, Hua Zhi had revealed nothing. Her heart immediately settled. Dabbing at the corner of her eye, she said, “What could possibly have happened with the Hua family in a state like this? I simply wished to sincerely observe mourning for your grandmother. You saw yourself how good she was to me. Surely you don’t think that’s wrong of me?”

It was a perfectly reasonable explanation. Yet Song Chenghao couldn’t shake the feeling that it couldn’t be so simple. He studied his mother with a suspicious look for a moment, then decided that perhaps it really was just that — knowing his mother’s temperament, if the Hua family had truly been making things difficult for her on purpose, she would have turned the place upside down long ago.

Seeing her son had been appeased, Hua Jing asked after matters at home. “Why didn’t your father come? And your younger brother and sister?”

“I haven’t seen Father these past two days. Grandmother said he went back to the ancestral house. Younger brother and sister are being kept at home — Grandmother said it was too bitterly cold to go out.”

Although Hua Jing had no particular wish to see her children suffer in the cold either, hearing those words come from that old woman made them grate on her no matter how she heard them. She was just about to say a few things to her eldest son when he spoke first. “It’s cold out here. I’ll head back first. Mother, carry on with the mourning. I’ll be here the day of the burial.”

“…” Hua Jing stared in disbelief as her eldest son pulled his cloak around himself and climbed into the carriage. Not a single word asking whether she was cold. Not one expression of concern. And not even a thought of staying to keep her company. He was a young man in his prime speaking of the cold — had he ever once considered that his mother was already approaching forty?

Hua Jing shuddered. She wrapped her arms around herself, feeling chilled to the bone — inside and out.

She looked up at the Hua family’s gate, and in a moment of daze seemed to see her younger self stepping out from those same doors, three younger brothers trailing behind her, calling her “Elder Sister” one after another.

Yet how had things come to be like this?

Xu Ying had been standing just behind the awning and had listened to every word that passed between mother and son, not missing a single character. He repeated it all in full without leaving out a word.

Hua Zhi listened, then went to burn a few extra sheets of paper for her grandmother. Grandmother, watch and see. No one commits wrongs without paying a price. Don’t waste your sympathy on her.