After the fireworks faded, the sound of firecrackers continued to go off sporadically in the distant streets, while the occasional bark of a dog drifted faintly through the night.

Xie Zheng curled one hand into a loose fist and lightly rapped his knuckles against the table where Fan Changyu lay sprawled. “Wake up.”

With the combined effects of drunkenness and sleepiness, Fan Changyu only gave a vague murmur in response. She shifted her head into a more comfortable position atop her arm and promptly sank back into a deeper sleep.

Seeing that there was no waking her, Xie Zheng hesitated for a moment before getting up and walking over. He helped her to her feet, intending to carry her back to her room.

The commotion did rouse Fan Changyu somewhat. She blinked her eyes open, her cheeks still flushed, and for a moment even Xie Zheng could not tell whether she was awake or merely drunk.

He held onto one of her arms to keep her from falling and asked, “Can you make it back to your room yourself?”

Fan Changyu tilted her head as she studied him. Her hair had become somewhat tousled from sleeping, making her look both dazed and docile. Her eyes were unfocused, as though she had yet to recognize who the person in front of her was.

Xie Zheng was taken aback at first, but quickly looked away, frowning, “You don’t even know how much you can hold, yet you still dare drink like that.”

He took hold of one of her hands, intending to pull her halfway upright, only to hear her mumbling something indistinctly.

Xie Zheng could not make it out, so he leaned closer, angling his ear toward her, “What?”

Fan Changyu was barely conscious. Her head bobbed sleepily, and just as Xie Zheng leaned in to hear what she was saying, her head happened to droop once more.

Her lips brushed lightly against his cheek.

Her head then sank neatly into the crook of his neck, and her already hazy, drowsy eyes closed again, utterly unaware of what she had just done.

Xie Zheng, however, froze completely.

For a moment, it was as though time itself had stopped. The sound of the wind, the falling snow, even the crackle of the bonfire—all fell silent.

The top of her tousled head rested against the side of his neck. Her breathing was long and shallow, and from the looks of it, she was fast asleep.

Xie Zheng remained motionless for quite some time, until a small, timid voice came from beside them, “Ah Jie?”

Xie Zheng turned his head and saw that Changning seemed to have just woken up. She still had her red envelope clutched in one hand while rubbing her bleary eyes with the other, looking at him and Fan Changyu in confusion.

He raised a slender finger to his lips and made a “shh” gesture. Stray strands of hair fell over his forehead, and his eyes looked dark and tranquil in the lamplight. “Your Ah Jie is asleep. Don’t wake her.”

Changning obediently nodded.

Xie Zheng pointed toward the oil lamp beside them, “Can you carry the oil lamp?”

Little Changning nodded even more vigorously.

Holding the oil lamp in both hands, she walked ahead. Xie Zheng slipped one arm beneath Fan Changyu’s armpits and the other beneath her knees, lifting her horizontally into his arms and following steadily behind Changning.

Fan Changyu had carried him back from the wilderness twice before, but this was the first time he had ever carried her.

She was even slighter than he had imagined.

Yes. In the span of just two short months, she had endured the deaths of both her parents, been abandoned by her childhood sweetheart, and had her eldest uncle try to seize her family’s property. And more recently, these two assassination attempts alone would have been enough to leave an ordinary person trembling with fear for the rest of their life.

Yet on the surface, she acted as though nothing had happened. Every day, she still went out early and returned late, working to support her family. At the dinner table, she never seemed too distressed to eat, and whenever she played with her little sister, she would still laugh and fool around with the child.

Xie Zheng had always thought she was simply big-hearted, but in this moment, a different thought suddenly occurred to him.

Perhaps… she wasn’t big-hearted at all.

Perhaps she simply knew that she couldn’t remain sad and miserable forever. So she worked hard to earn money, made sure to eat properly every day and sleep well at night. She didn’t dare let herself fall ill, nor did she dare allow herself to completely lose heart.

Because her little sister had no one else to rely on but her. She couldn’t afford to fall.

The walk from the main room to the north room was not long, yet as Xie Zheng moved through the alternating darkness and lamplight, all sorts of complicated emotions welled up inside him.

When they reached the north room, Changning was too short to place the oil lamp on the table, so she set it down on a round stool for the time being.

Xie Zheng laid the sleeping Fan Changyu on the bed. Changning immediately came toddling over, wrapped both arms around the shoes on her sister’s feet, and tugged backward with all her might, trying to help her sister take them off.

The little girl put all her strength into it, but still couldn’t quite figure out how. Xie Zheng said, “I’ll do it.”

He helped remove both shoes. He was about to simply pull the quilt over Fan Changyu when Changning said, “Ah Jie’s padded jacket is still on.”

Xie Zheng’s fingers paused.

He coaxed the child, “Your Ah Jie is asleep. Taking off her jacket might wake her. Let her sleep like this.”

Changning let the matter drop.

As he pulled the quilt over Fan Changyu, the little girl kicked off her own shoes and climbed onto the bed as well. Like a little grown-up, she helped tuck the edge of the quilt around her sister.

Xie Zheng waited until the child had lain down too before placing the oil lamp on the wooden table beside the bed. He turned back and glanced toward the bed curtains. In the dim yellow lamplight, Fan Changyu’s face still carried a faint flush from the alcohol, her sleeping expression peaceful and docile.

He suddenly remembered the night he had taught her the Great Yin Code. She had fallen asleep while reciting the statutes, slumped over the writing desk, and in her dreams, she had choked out a single cry of “Mom”.

That same unfamiliar, strange feeling rose in his heart once more.

“Jiefu?”

Seeing that he had been staring this way, Changning blinked up at him and called out to him.

Xie Zheng came back to himself. “Don’t tell your sister what happened in the other room just now.”

Little Changning looked utterly puzzled, “What happened?”

Xie Zheng fell silent for a moment. Thinking that she had only just woken up and perhaps hadn’t seen anything, he said, “Nothing.”

Just as he was about to snuff out the oil lamp, the child asked, “Jiefu, aren’t you going to use a lamp to go back to your room?”

“No.”

The words had barely left his mouth when the oil lamp went out, plunging the room into darkness.

Xie Zheng left the room at an unhurried pace, disappearing into the darkness. As he stepped outside, he reached back and pulled the door shut behind him.

Before returning to his own room, he also took the Gyrfalcon from the chicken coop beside the fire pit. Once inside, he lit the oil lamp, ground some ink, and finished the letter he had left incomplete during the day. Only then did he slip it into a bamboo tube and fasten it to the Gyrfalcon’s leg.

The injuries to the Gyrfalcon’s wings and feet had nearly healed. Since it hadn’t been flying these past few days, and had been given a large bowl of fresh minced meat or offal every day, the entire bird had filled out noticeably.

When Xie Zheng raised his arm and let the gyrfalcon hop onto it, he felt the weight on his forearm and his brows drew together almost imperceptibly. “After you deliver the letter, fly around outside until dark before coming back.”

The Gyrfalcon’s beady eyes instinctively glanced toward the large bowl of minced meat in the main room. Sensing the sudden chill in the man’s presence behind it, it hurriedly flapped its wings and flew into the deep night.

Even after the Gyrfalcon had disappeared into the distance, Xie Zheng did not return to his room. Instead, he stood beneath the eaves with his hands behind his back, watching for a long while as heavy snow fell thickly and softly, like willow catkins drifting from the sky.

When he had Zhao Xun purchase the grain, he had already anticipated that the authorities would eventually take notice.

When Zhao Xun had come to see him a few days ago, Xie Zheng had already instructed him to first send the grain to a location of his choosing. The letter the gyrfalcon had just carried was to have his long-term subordinate transport the grain from there.

The Wei family had devised an excellent scheme: eliminate him without spending a single soldier, then take over his hundred thousand troops in Huizhou. But he was still alive, and if so, the good days for that father and son were over.

Several months ago, rumors had suddenly begun circulating about the Battle of Jinzhou sixteen years ago. Xie Zheng had originally been unwilling to believe them. But when his dear uncle learned that he was secretly investigating the Battle of Jinzhou, he had immediately set a trap for him on the battlefield with the intention of taking his life.

There was no clearer confirmation of that rumor.

Before reclaiming control of the Huizhou troops, he would first have to make use of the Wei family’s own hands to pull out the hidden nails they had planted beside him.

暗钉 (àn dīng) — Literally a “hidden nail”, metaphorically someone secretly planted in another person's circle—essentially a covert agent or spy.

Thinking of how he had spent sixteen years treating his enemy as his father, the corner of Xie Zheng’s lips lifted in undisguised mockery.

If that woman had not chosen to follow his father in death when she learned of his death, would he have been spared from being raised by Wei Yan? Would he have been spared sixteen years of calling his enemy his father?

He closed his eyes heavily. The lantern beneath the eaves cast the shadow of his high, straight nose across his face.

For some reason, his thoughts returned once more to the two sisters of the Fan family.

For one fleeting moment, Xie Zheng actually felt a little envious of that child.

When disaster had befallen him in his childhood, he had been around her age. But when the great edifice of the Xie family collapsed, there had been no one left behind him to shelter him from wind and rain.

How fortunate that child was. She had lost her parents, yet she still had an elder sister who could hold up a whole sky for her…

When Xie Zheng opened his eyes again, all the emotions in their depths had already settled into silence.

He turned and went back to his room. He removed his outer robe and had only just lain down when he sensed something amiss beneath his pillow.

He sat up and lifted the pillow. When he saw the red envelope tucked underneath, a clear flicker of astonishment crossed his handsome face.

New Year’s money.

The words for “year” and “evil” are homophones, and folk tradition holds that giving New Year’s money can ward off evil spirits and protect the recipient’s safety.

Had that woman put this here for him?

Xie Zheng opened the red envelope. Inside were several small silver ingots.

Each one weighed less than a liang, yet holding them in his hand now, they somehow felt unexpectedly heavy.

Xie Zheng could no longer remember how long it had been since he last received New Year’s money. After his parents died, the only time he had ever received it was from his maternal grandmother, while she was still alive.

Wei Yan had been cold-blooded and stern his entire life. Let alone his Wai nephew—even his own biological son had never received a trace of tenderness from him, so naturally he would never have someone prepare red envelopes for them during the New Year.

Xie Zheng lay on his back, one hand tucked beneath his head. With the other, he held a small silver ingot up before his eyes, quietly examining it in the candlelight. A hint of some other emotion had appeared in his handsome features.

Her parents had died too. From then on, no one would give her New Year’s money anymore either, right?

·•—–٠✤٠—–•·

The next morning, when Fan Changyu woke, her head felt somewhat heavy and swollen.

Because she had drunk too much the night before, she had slept in rather late, and Changning was already nowhere to be seen.

She slowly crawled out of bed and found that her clothes were still properly fastened. She tried hard to recall what had happened the night before, but no matter how much she racked her brain, everything after she got drunk was a complete blank.

Still, if she had managed to make it back to her room, then either she had walked back herself or Yan Zheng had helped her.

Just thinking about the latter made Fan Changyu’s face burn with embarrassment.

This was truly humiliating. She had actually gotten drunk on clear rice wine. If word got out, wouldn’t everyone laugh at her?

She pressed a hand to her faintly aching temple. After getting up and hastily washing up, she heard Changning crying from the main room.

Fan Changyu went out and asked, “What happened?”

Changning was crouched beside the chicken coop, crying so hard her nose was running. “Sunsun is gone…”

Fan Changyu looked at the completely empty chicken coop and was stunned for a moment as well, “Maybe the coop door wasn’t shut properly last night. The gyrfalcon’s wing has healed, so it probably flew away.”

Changning only cried harder.

Helpless, Fan Changyu had no choice but to trot out the same explanation about how the Gyrfalcon had to go back and find its father and mother, and only then did Changning slowly stop crying.

Xie Zheng had probably heard the crying from inside his room as well. When he came out and saw Changning still standing guard beside the chicken coop with tears streaming down her face, he said, “It’ll fly back again.”

Changning looked up at him with tear-filled eyes. “Really?”

Fan Changyu assumed he was merely trying to comfort a child. Afraid that Changning would be even more upset if she later discovered that he had lied to her, Fan Changyu forgot all about the embarrassment of possibly having made a fool of herself while drunk the night before and shot Xie Zheng a warning look.

At first, Xie Zheng did not understand the look she gave him. It was only after Fan Changyu had coaxed Changning away that she said to him, “You don’t have to lie to her like that. Changning might just be feeling lonely. Once spring comes, I’m planning to raise a brood of chicks. Once she has some new playmates, she’ll forget all about that gyrfalcon.”

Xie Zheng said, “I wasn’t comforting her.”

This time, it was Fan Changyu’s turn to stare at him in bewilderment.

For now, he still couldn’t reveal that he had sent the Gyrfalcon to deliver a letter. Xie Zheng lied without so much as a flicker of embarrassment. “Once a bird of prey has been fully trained, it’s supposed to be released again. If it can find its way back, that’s when you know it has been completely tamed.”

Fan Changyu immediately realized that this was still an unknown.

She gave Xie Zheng several suspicious looks. “You’re really that certain it’ll fly back?”

Xie Zheng nodded calmly, utterly unruffled.

Fan Changyu was still somewhat doubtful, but she knew nothing about training birds of prey, so she said nothing more.

Quite a bit of the cured meat she had smoked some time ago was still hanging above the fire pit. Most of it had been set aside for sale, with only a small portion kept for the family to eat.

Back when her parents were still alive, every year on this day, her father would carry a piece of meat over to visit the Fan family’s elders. Now that her parents were gone, Fan Changyu wasn’t particularly close to the old couple, but they were still her elders, so she had to make the proper gesture.

After breakfast, she planned to carry a piece of cured meat over to the old couple and come straight back. She entrusted Xie Zheng with keeping an eye on Changning, then took the meat and left the house.

Fan Da had only died recently, so the New Year at the Fan family’s old home was a rather bleak affair.

When Fan Changyu arrived, only the elderly Fan couple were at home. Liu Shi had taken her son and daughter back to her maiden family to celebrate the New Year.

Perhaps losing both their sons within the span of a single year had dealt too great a blow to the old couple. Old Madam Fan was bedridden, while Old Master Fan’s hair, which had already been graying, had turned almost completely white. Even his New Year’s clothes were dirty and rumpled.

Whether he simply no longer had the heart to tidy himself up, or whether life had become difficult now that his daughter-in-law was running the household, it was hard to say.

When he saw Fan Changyu, he invited her inside to sit by the fire and warm herself.

But Fan Changyu only wanted to hand over the meat and leave. She said, “Ningniang is waiting for me at home, so I won’t stay long.”

Old Master Fan looked at the cured meat she had brought. Perhaps it reminded him of how his younger son used to bring over a piece of meat every New Year. His eyes reddened as he said, “Come inside and sit for a while. There are some things about your father from back then that I think I ought to tell you.”

Fan Changyu froze at those words. What was there about her father’s past that she didn’t know?

After seeing Old Master Fan stumble into the house once he had finished speaking, Fan Changyu hesitated for a moment before following him inside.