The person sent to the capital to report the news hadn’t returned yet, but the mourning hall had already been set up.

Marquis Cui cried himself unconscious several times. Shaoshang had the attending physicians brew a bowl of powerful sedative soup and coaxed the dizzy and dazed Marquis Cui into drinking it, only saying it was a tonic to refresh and invigorate the mind, so he could gather the energy to handle Madam Huo’s funeral affairs.

After entrusting the deeply sleeping Marquis Cui to the servants’ care, Shaoshang went to the quiet mourning hall.

Ling Buyi had long since dismissed everyone, kneeling alone before the empty spirit altar, his back straight as a sword, his shoulders broad as mountain ridges. Shaoshang suddenly felt a stinging in her eyelashes—whether facing disaster or upheaval, whether sorrow or suffering, Ling Buyi was always as silent as the vast ocean, as eternally unchanging as towering崇mountain peaks, making those around him feel incomparably at ease.

But what he was truly thinking in his heart, probably no one knew.

Ling Buyi turned his head back, his face pale, lashes like long feathers, a strange emptiness and frailty in his eyes.

He smiled slightly, just as he had countless times before: “Shaoshang, have you come to console me? There’s no need. I understand everything. Birth, aging, illness, and death are always inevitable. In this life, humans live but one lifetime, grass and trees but one spring. There is no banquet in the world that doesn’t end. No matter how close, no matter how reluctant, there is always a time for parting.”

Shaoshang felt his words were somewhat strange and said: “Even though partings in life and death are inevitable, as long as there is concern in the heart, whether it’s the Yellow Springs or a thousand miles away, nothing changes fundamentally. Human hearts easily change, yet human hearts are also hard to change. As long as my heart refuses to change, no matter the vicissitudes of the seas becoming mulberry fields or the transformations of Cloud Dream, what can be done to me?!”

Ling Buyi seemed a bit dazed: “Is it truly like this?”

Shaoshang smiled: “Haven’t you heard of Jingwei filling the sea, the Foolish Old Man moving mountains? When you meet someone truly stubborn, even immortals coming won’t help!”

Ling Buyi looked at her for a while, then suddenly said: “Since this is so, why don’t we make a blood oath by biting our arms?”

What? Shaoshang stepped back two paces. What was he saying?

People of this era took oaths very seriously, and oath ceremonies often required seeing blood. For instance, not long ago when Old Uncle Wan swore to Madam Xiao to cultivate himself and nourish his character, he beheaded seven white-feathered roosters in one go. The courtyard in front of Jiuzhuitang was splattered everywhere with chicken blood, and Qing Cong led the servants in struggling for several days to remove the fishy smell.

However, animal blood wasn’t as noble as human blood, so heroes mostly bit their fingers to swear oaths—since fingers couldn’t escape misfortune, arms weren’t far behind either.

“That… what about beheading some chickens and ducks instead? No need to bite arms.” Shaoshang wasn’t afraid of swearing oaths, but she feared pain.

Ling Buyi ignored her protest, gently but stubbornly pulling her to kneel beside him, his tone firm: “Before Mother, you say it—that you will never change your heart toward me.”

Shaoshang leaned back warily: “Don’t take advantage of me. I can only say ‘If you don’t change your heart, I won’t change mine.'”

Ling Buyi laughed, and there was actually some bitterness in his smile. “Fine, just say it like that.”

His voice was as gentle as always. Unable to evade, Shaoshang could only respectfully swear before Huo Junhua’s spirit—”Spirit above, deities as witness, this humble woman Cheng Shaoshang hereby swears, if… if…” She glanced at Ling Buyi, “If he doesn’t change his heart toward me, I absolutely will not change my heart toward him either.”

Then, Ling Buyi lifted her sleeve and unceremoniously bit down on her pale, tender arm. Shaoshang shrank back in fear like encountering a dentist, constantly patting his back. Her initial few parts of wishful thinking and underestimation of the severity turned to furious anger when she saw the teeth marks with blood beads on herself. Then Shaoshang mustered all her nursing strength and bit two rows of bloodstained teeth marks onto Ling Buyi’s muscular, firm arm.

Ling Buyi seemed to feel no pain at all. Looking at the teeth marks, his gaze showed quite some dissatisfaction, as if Shaoshang had cut corners and hadn’t exerted enough force with her teeth. But heaven knew Shaoshang had used so much force that the jaw muscles on both sides ached.

The next day after returning home, A’zhu rebandaged the bite wound on Shaoshang’s arm while shaking her head. However, she quite rarely didn’t tell Madam Xiao about this matter. “Having just lost his mother, and with a father like Marquis Ling, Lord Ling is also pitiable.”

Shaoshang covered her still-aching upper arm and heavily exhaled a breath full of resentment—Nonsense! If it weren’t because Ling Buyi had just lost his mother, how would she have tolerated him so!

Huo Junhua’s funeral ceremony was very grand. The Emperor arranged to bury her practically according to the standards for his own sisters. Ling Buyi naturally observed the rites of a filial son. Rather awkward were Cui You and Ling Yi. One was the former husband, one was the current husband who never got to take office—how should their positions be arranged in the funeral ceremony? It must be said the officials of the Court of State Ceremonial were quite imaginative. They had Cui You take the position of Huo Junhua’s natal family elder brother, while having Ling Yi reside among the guest seats.

Actually, in Shaoshang’s view, former spouses who had fallen to this state were hardly different from enemies. Why did Marquis Ling still need to attend the funeral ceremony? The Emperor didn’t favor him anyway.

However, Shaoshang clearly underestimated Marquis Ling’s resistance to setbacks. On the day of the funeral procession, not only did he come, he also brought Ling Buyi’s stepbrother, and even Princess Yuchang accompanied them as the Ling family’s future daughter-in-law. Ling Yi originally wanted to stand beside Ling Buyi, but was pushed aside by General Wu’s arm, unable to tolerate it any longer.

Shaoshang sneered continuously in her heart. The obstructive former wife had died, the powerful eldest son could return home, plus the second son who had just been granted an official rank and the Princess daughter-in-law—what a flourishing and thriving Ling clan with branches and leaves!

In the end, Ling Yi still left hurriedly, because Marquis Cui cried recklessly from beginning to end, tears flowing in confusion, almost unable to even stand, still needing Ling Buyi’s support to board the carriage. Under everyone’s rather meaningful gazes, Ling Yi finally couldn’t maintain his cultured and refined mask and found an excuse to move to the back of the crowd.

Before leaving, Ling Yi came to bid farewell to Shaoshang. The Princess Yuchang beside him, however, said in a delicate voice: “What a pity. Originally in a few days it would be Lord Marquis’s fiftieth birthday. The family had already prepared to hold a banquet, but now…”

The future Prince Consort Ling, holding two and a half gold bricks, immediately bowed and said gently: “Thank you for the Princess’s concern for my father. Father has labored hard half his life and never truly enjoyed blessings. The family originally wanted to use this birthday banquet to make father happy, but unfortunately… However, having the Princess’s care, the entire Ling household is deeply grateful.”

Princess Yuchang looked at the young husband’s handsome face and said coquettishly: “What are you saying? Won’t I be part of the Ling family in the future? Why be so formal?”

Shaoshang coldly watched these two perform like actors, but pretended surprise on her face: “Oh my, I had no idea at all. I deserve to be punished. Fifty years is a great birthday—Lord Marquis should properly celebrate, but…”

Ling Yi repeatedly waved his hands, his face full of humility: “The deceased comes first. Zicheng’s mother just passed away. The family is in mourning—how could I have the nerve to hold a grand banquet?” After speaking, he left with his second son and Princess Yuchang.

Shaoshang watched from behind, another wave of cold laughter in her heart. Mourning? Give me a break!

With Huo Junhua dead, Ling Buyi should observe three years of mourning. The Emperor naturally couldn’t postpone the wedding three years as well, so he announced to those around that the original wedding date would not change—his adopted son would marry while in heavy mourning. The Empress said to Shaoshang with some regret: “This way, your wedding ceremony cannot be grandly arranged.”

Shaoshang pointed at the brocades and gold and jade filling half the side hall and smiled: “How else does Your Majesty want to arrange it? You’ve added so much to my dowry that our home can’t even display it all.”

At this time, only ten days remained until the wedding. The Empress reluctantly sent Shaoshang back to the Cheng residence along with the additional dowry, and also ordered Ling Buyi to follow propriety and not secretly run over to see her. Ling Buyi held the girl’s hand, looking at her again and again, finding it extremely difficult to part.

The Empress couldn’t help laughing: “Don’t be so pathetic. In the future you’ll have a lifetime to look at her… His Majesty is looking for you. Cen Anzhi has been waiting outside for ages, yet you’re still dawdling. You’re about to enter mourning—you need to properly organize the matters at hand before handing them over. Alright, quickly let go of her hand. Shaoshang should leave now!”

Shaoshang sat in the sedan chair personally bestowed by the Empress and looked back toward Changqiu Palace’s high palace steps. The Empress stood in the middle with a smile, waving to her from afar. Ling Buyi was blocked to the side by two young eunuchs and could only gaze longingly at the gradually departing procession. The golden-red sunset stretched his shadow long, the extending direction pointing toward the departing back of his beloved girl.

When about to exit the Upper West Gate, Shaoshang saw from afar the Second Princess and Third Princess, along with the Third Prince in riding attire who seemed about to leave the palace. The three full siblings appeared to be arguing.

“…Even for such a small matter you’re dragging your feet. If not for second brother-in-law catching a slight cold and being unable to go out, we wouldn’t be looking for you!” The Third Princess stamped her foot in anger.

The Third Prince rarely raised his voice: “I already said, the Crown Prince asked me to handle something. These next few days I have to make a trip to Red Willow Camp to interrogate some people. It’s urgent—I’m going back to my residence right now to pack. Where do I have the time to accompany you to pay respects at the shrine!”

The Second Princess advised her younger sister: “Alright, don’t make things difficult for the third brother. He’s always straightforward. Seems he truly has urgent business. The two of us going ourselves is the same.”

The Third Prince hastily cupped his fists and turned to leave. The Third Princess was still indignant, muttering dissatisfaction. The Second Princess couldn’t even persuade her to stop. When Shaoshang approached, she still heard the Third Princess complaining: “…Third brother has been this unreasonably cold toward relatives since childhood! Even if he has urgent matters, what harm would it do to speak two kind words to us! Hmph hmph, if I’d known, that year when he had a high fever from a cold, I should have added two more handfuls of coptis root to his medicine!”

Shaoshang descended from the sedan chair and smiled while bowing to the two princesses. When rising, she received the Second Princess’s look telling her to change the subject, so she joked: “Oh, so the Third Prince also had a high fever from a cold? In all my time at the palace, I’ve always heard people say the Third Prince has been healthy since childhood, never getting minor illnesses and never having major ones.”

The Third Princess, who had been properly disciplined by the Emperor and Consort Yue, clearly had a much better temper and had not made things difficult for Shaoshang since. She only rolled her eyes dramatically: “The third brother isn’t an immortal. How could he not get sick? Minor illnesses he still has, but as for major illnesses… hey, Second Sister, wasn’t it just that one time?”

The Second Princess thought for a moment and laughed: “You really got it right—seems it was just that once.”

The Third Princess snorted coldly: “Served him right! In the cold of early spring, we were still bundled up by the brazier indoors, but he ran out crazily. Half his clothes got soaked by snow—served him right to get a high fever!”

Shaoshang’s heart stirred. She tentatively asked: “May I ask Your Highnesses, what year was this?”

The Third Princess said impatiently: “Why are you asking so many questions… Probably eleven, no, twelve years ago.”

The Second Princess shook her head: “Not right, it was thirteen years ago. That year the warfare slightly ceased. Father wanted to perform grand sacrificial rites for our early-deceased grandparents. Right after the Lantern Festival, he took us to Dongbai Imperial Mausoleum. That’s where third brother fell ill.”

Shaoshang had a vague notion in her heart, but like a shadow in thick fog, she could see it but couldn’t grasp it.

The Second Princess said curiously: “Why are you asking about this?”

Shaoshang laughed dryly: “I was just asking casually.”

Returning to the Cheng residence, she saw Madam Xiao had already reorganized the mansion completely, with everything inside and out prepared for the upcoming wedding ceremony.

Thinking of his daughter’s imminent marriage, Old Man Cheng was quite melancholic, sighing deeply as if being chased for debts. Madam Xiao was rarely amiable, not forcing Shaoshang to read and write, not criticizing Shaoshang for sleeping in or spacing out, going along with whatever she wanted.

Several times Shaoshang felt she seemed to want to tell her some principles of being a wife, but unfortunately the atmosphere was never quite right. Often Madam Xiao would sit in Shaoshang’s room for a long while, mother and daughter facing each other speechless, then it would be time for meals.

In the end, Madam Xiao seemed to think it through and said to Shaoshang: “Forget it. Before I married, your maternal grandmother did nag at me for half a day, but I still made things chaotic as chickens and dogs flying. Zicheng is someone with good judgment. You don’t need to fear this and fear that. Some things you figure out yourself are better than others telling you. Besides, I’m not exactly an exemplary daughter-in-law myself.”

Shaoshang thought this made great sense.

Madam Xiao and Madam Qing Cong busied themselves preparing Shaoshang’s wedding ceremony and dowry. The daily trivialities of the Cheng residence continued to be managed by Cheng Yang as usual.

Seeing Shaoshang idle and bored, Cheng Yang would sometimes invite her to review accounts and handle matters together—with Shaoshang present, when reviewing account books she didn’t even need counting rods. Her cousin could sweep her eyes over the numbers once and directly calculate the answer mentally for her.

This day she led Shaoshang to inspect the household’s vacant rooms. Seeing her cousin looking east and west, touching everything meticulously, she said: “No one lives here anyway, and guests at the wedding ceremony won’t rush to the back courtyard. Why are you working so hard? Second Uncle finally returned—you father and daughter should spend more time together. After you marry out, you may not even be able to speak properly with Uncle.”

Cheng Yang smiled: “Father isn’t like First Uncle—whether scolding or praising, he can talk for ages. The day Father returned home, we father and daughter finished talking. After that we could only sit and stare at each other… Sigh, better forget it.”

She had the servants carefully check the walls and roof for water leaks or dampness. “After your wedding ceremony is finished, next will be eldest cousin and Sister Nue’s wedding, plus second cousin’s adoption ceremony—at that time we’ll surely need to invite a few clan elders from the village, right? Won’t these empty rooms be useful then? Rather than having First Aunt busy to distraction later, better I organize things now…”

Watching Cheng Yang busy with dust in her hair, Shaoshang said quietly: “Fortunately the family has you—Mother has a great helper.”

Cheng Yang turned and smiled: “First Aunt is very capable. It’s just that several matters are crowded together at this time. Otherwise she and Aunt Qing could handle things with room to spare. It’s not really my business.”

Shaoshang sighed. Alright, Madam Xiao hadn’t loved the wrong person.

The two sisters led the servants to an especially exquisite pavilion. Inside were placed all kinds of musical instruments—zithers, panpipes, ocarinas, mouth organs, drums, long flutes, short flutes, twenty-five-string zithers, fifty-string zithers… even a row of relatively small bronze bell chimes.

Shaoshang said admiringly: “This was originally Grandfather’s room, wasn’t it?”

Cheng Yang: “Exactly. Before Grandfather passed away, he loved staying here… but Grandmother didn’t like this place.”

—Nonsense! With her husband immersed in music all day refusing to pay attention to her, it would be strange if Mother Cheng liked this place!

“What’s this? A waist drum?” Shaoshang pointed to a pitch-black round small drum in the corner with wide straps hanging down on both sides.

Cheng Yang looked and said hesitantly: “…Mm, it should be a war drum. The first time First Aunt brought me here she mentioned it—used to regulate soldiers during military campaigns, can even be beaten while riding on horseback.”

Shaoshang walked over and struck the war drum with her palm. The drum body emitted a deep, far-reaching sound that faintly shook one’s heart.

That night, Shaoshang woke up covered in sweat. She looked at her trembling fingers. To the side, the bright red wedding dress with golden embroidered patterns on the clothes rack pressed down on her until she couldn’t breathe—the top-grade magnificent garment that twelve of the best palace embroiderers had spent a full month creating made her unspeakably frightened.

After sitting dazed for a long while, she put on outer clothes and got up, carefully avoiding the sleeping Lian Fang and walked alone to the courtyard.

The night was deep as an abyss, the night cool as water. She walked aimlessly in a circle and unconsciously returned to the pavilion she’d visited during the day, approaching Duke Cheng’s music room.

She held that war drum and sat facing the window and moon.

At the first palm strike, in the distance ten thousand horses galloped, hooves flying, earth shaking and mountains trembling. At the second palm strike, snow-bright swords and blades revealed their edges, warriors fighting with blood and flesh flying, the clash of metal suffocating. At the third palm strike, hawks soared in the high firmament, the clear sky washed clean without a trace of haze. At the fourth palm strike…

Shaoshang covered her aching, trembling palm over her eyes, tears silently sliding down her face.

She finally knew why she always felt inexplicable worry, always inexplicably assumed a defensive posture. Actually, the matter had been laid before her all along. She could sense the unease but couldn’t put it into words.

Life was like grains of sand prostrate on the seashore. Wave after wave beat down—whether gentle foam or overwhelming tsunami, besides stiffening one’s neck to endure, there seemed no other method.

Shaoshang lowered her tear-soaked hand and straightened her back—she couldn’t just sit and cry. She had never been someone who sat waiting for death since childhood. She still had many things to do.