Yin Furen felt that after her daughter-in-law left, her son seemed to have lost his senses.

Before every meal, he would sigh and say, “I wonder if Dong Jiejie has eaten yet.”

He could be talking enthusiastically with someone, only to suddenly zone out.

He often carried a hand-drawn map of the route from the capital to Zhuo County in his pocket. Every so often, he’d take it out, point at it, and mutter to himself, “She should be here by now, or maybe here? Perhaps here?”

Even the usually carefree Xuan Ji’er couldn’t help but whisper to Zhao Jiazhen, “Yimu, why does Xiao Jiu seem to have lovesickness?”

Zhao Jiazhen replied softly, “Don’t doubt your judgment so much. You can drop the words ‘seem to’.”

The pair of wai aunt and niece couldn’t stop giggling quietly.

Yin Furen, unable to bear her son’s lovelorn demeanor any longer, said to him, “It’s overcast today, and your Zufu seems to be feeling unwell. He didn’t even attend court. Go to his courtyard and see if there’s anything you can help with.”

“Oh.” Zhao Huanxi tucked the map back into his chest pocket and headed to Dunyi Hall. Just as he reached the hall’s entrance, he ran into Zhao Huanxu, who was walking out.

Zhao Huanxu’s expression wasn’t great, and he didn’t say a word to him.

Since Zhao Huanxu said nothing, Zhao Huanxi didn’t either. The two Tang cousins brushed past each other in silence.

Although Zhao Huanxu didn’t speak to Zhao Huanxi, when he saw him go inside, he didn’t leave immediately either.

Earlier, Zufu had declined to see him, citing ill health. Now, he wanted to see how long it would take for Zhao Huanxi to come out. If Zufu refused to meet him as well, he should be back out soon enough.

Zhao Huanxu waited by the roadside for a full quarter of an hour, but Zhao Huanxi still hadn’t come out. His expression darkened further, and he turned to head back to the Fifth Branch courtyard.

Wu Taitai had just returned from Lingde Hall, looking utterly exhausted, her back aching and lips pale. Seeing Zhao Huanxu’s angry face, she asked wearily, “What’s wrong with you now?”

Zhao Huanxu snapped, “Zufu won’t see me anymore. He only sees Zhao Huanxi! This is all Zumu’s fault!”

Wu Taitai hurriedly stepped forward to cover his mouth and whispered, “The whole courtyard is full of people, what nonsense are you spouting? What if you get labeled unfilial again?”

Zhao Huanxu flung his sleeve in frustration and returned to his room.

Inside, Jia Shi was sitting with Yu Jie’er, flipping through an illustrated book and learning about plants. Zhao Huanxu glanced at the patterns and characters in the book, and his gaze froze.

That so-called “Youlan Style” calligraphy invented by Zhao Huanxi, he recognized it all too well.

He strode over, snatched the book, and demanded of Jia Shi, “Where did this come from?”

Both Jia Shi and Yu Jie’er were startled by his sudden action.

Jia Shi replied, “I borrowed it from Heng Da Saozi of Third Branch. What’s gotten into you now?”

“This was drawn by Zhao Huanxi,” Zhao Huanxu said sharply.

“I know,” Jia Shi replied. “Heng Da Saozi told me. Huanxi Tang Di made this book for the children in the household to learn about plants, animals, and characters.”

“Don’t you know I’m at odds with him?” Zhao Huanxu shouted. “And you still borrowed a book he made for my daughter? What are you trying to do, humiliate me?”

As he yelled, he raised his hand, ready to tear the book apart.

Jia Shi, panicking, lunged forward and snatched the book away. She motioned for the maid to take the frightened and crying Yu Jie’er out of the room, then turned to Zhao Huanxu and shouted, “Are you insane? Is being at odds with your Tang Di something to be proud of? You’re saying it like it’s justified! Yes, this book was made by Tang Di, but it wasn’t made specifically for your daughter, it was made for all the children in the household. If you don’t want your daughter to read something made by someone else, then why don’t you draw something for her yourself? Huanxi Tang Di doesn’t even have children of his own, yet he still has the kindness to care for the children in the residence. And you, as her father, what have you done for your child? Let’s not even talk about talent or scholarship, just in terms of character, you’re nowhere near his level!”

Zhao Huanxu, veins bulging on his temple from rage, raised his hand and slapped Jia Shi across the face.

Jia Shi’s head tilted from the force of the blow. She raised a hand to cover her cheek, then slowly turned back, her red-rimmed eyes fixed coldly on the man who now looked somewhat guilty after hitting her.

“Marrying you,” she said icily, “is the thing I regret most in my entire life.”

With that, she stormed out of the room and loudly instructed the maids and servants to pack her and Yu Jie’er’s belongings. She was returning to her maiden family’s house, the Marquis of Wuding Residence.

Wu Taitai, hearing the commotion from her own room, hurried out to try and stop her. But Jia Shi’s resolve was firm, how could she be dissuaded? In no time, she had packed her things, taken Yu Jie’er and the servants, and left.

Anxious and flustered, Wu Taitai hurried to admonish Zhao Huanxu, but he was already overwhelmed with frustration and at a loss for what to do.

As the mother and son reflected on their current predicament, they both felt like caged beasts, trapped and helpless. In the end, neither could find anything to say, and silence fell between them.

At Dunyi Hall, in Guogong Yé’s bedchamber, Zhao Huanxi was helping him apply a pungent tiger bone ointment.

After decades of military campaigns, Guogong Yé bore countless scars of varying sizes across his body. He remarked that the smaller scars remained dormant even in rainy weather like this, but the larger, deeper ones would itch and ache unbearably. In his youth, he could endure it, but as the years passed, his tolerance waned.

Silently, Zhao Huanxi massaged the ointment into those shocking scars that still seemed fresh despite the years. He thought to himself, if it were him, with so many injuries, he doubt he would have survived.

“Zufu, how did you get this scar?” he asked, unable to suppress his curiosity as he reached the prominent and perilous scar on Guogong Yé’s chest. He wanted to know who could have inflicted such a grievous wound on his grandfather.

Without needing to lower his head, Guogong Yé knew exactly which scar his grandson was referring to. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he stared calmly at the window, though beneath his composed gaze was a faint hint of longing and sorrow.

“Gudesiqin, the sixth son of the previous generation’s Tiele King, the fiercest warrior of the Tiele tribe. This scar was left by him in our final battle with the Tiele tribe eleven years ago. Your Wu Shufu also died at his hands.”

Zhao Huanxi fell silent for a moment, then said, “He injured you like this, but in the end, it was still our dynasty that won. He must have not had an easy time against you either.”

Guogong Yé shook his head and sighed, saying, “In that battle, I only wounded his left leg. If it weren’t for his impulsive youth and arrogance at the time, the outcome would have been unpredictable. After his father’s death, the Tiele tribe fractured. Now, he’s managed to reunite it all, and Liaodong may not remain peaceful for long.”

The conversation was too heavy, so much so that Zhao Huanxi couldn’t help but feel the weight of his own immaturity and helplessness.

He fell silent.

Guogong Yé snapped out of his reverie and turned to look at him, asking, “Are you still afraid of thunder now?”

Zhao Huanxi paused for a moment, then lowered his head and nodded faintly.

Guogong Yé said, “Try to overcome it. A man of stature shouldn’t have such an obvious weakness.”

“Yes,” Zhao Huanxi replied softly, silently closing the lid of the tiger bone ointment container.

The next day, it rained.

The Emperor came down from court and, braving the rain, arrived at the residence of the now Imperial Concubine Li, Liu Fuyi, in the Chonghua Palace.

嫔(pín) - a title in the Imperial Harem, higher than a Meiren (美人) and lower than a Consort (妃/Fei). These women are also given a ‘name’ along with their rank. 丽 (Lì) which means beautiful, elegance and magnificent, is the ‘name’ bestowed to Liu Fuyi, just like Consort Zhen.

Inside the hall, the scent of incense filled the air. Liu Fuyi, as usual, lounged on the imperial concubine couch, petting a cat with one hand while supporting her forehead with the other. She lazily watched the palace maids play Jianzi nearby.

毽子 (Jianzi) - a kind of shuttlecock used to play games in which it is kept in the air without using the hands, primarily by kicking

As soon as the Emperor arrived, the maids withdrew.

Liu Fuyi didn’t bother to greet the Emperor. She merely gave him a lazy glance and said, “The hem of the dragon robe is wet, don’t sit over here.”

The Emperor, helpless, called for a maid to bring in his usual clothes stored there. After changing, he walked in front of Liu Fuyi and spun around, saying, “Can sit down now?”

Liu Fuyi gave a brief “En” in response. The Emperor then walked over and sat on the imperial concubine couch, asking her, “Are you from Hangzhou, and does your family own a pastry shop called Qiyu Zhai?”

Liu Fuyi’s hand, which was petting the cat, paused. She lifted her charming eyes to look at him and asked, “Why is Your Majesty suddenly interested in my background?”

The Emperor didn’t answer and continued, “Is your father named Shi Yujiang, and your stepmother Dou Dongxiang?”

“Has something happened to them?” Liu Fuyi asked again.

“A memorial came from Hangzhou Prefecture,” the Emperor said with a frown. “It states that your father wrote a seditious poem. Now, the entire family has been imprisoned and is awaiting transfer to the capital.”

Liu Fuyi’s eyes widened slightly. Then, all of a sudden, she began laughing. Her laughter was so enchanting and uninhibited that she rocked back and forth, completely at ease.

The Emperor had never seen her laugh like this before. Stunned, he stared at her and asked, “Pinfei, do you realize how serious this matter is? How can you still laugh?”

Liu Fuyi barely managed to stop laughing and said, “Your Majesty, my father’s surname is Shi, while I take my mother’s surname, Liu. He was merely a live-in son-in-law. After my mother passed away, he should have upheld her legacy, properly cared for me, and waited until I grew up to pass the family estate to me. But instead, he turned around and started a new family with someone else. How is that any different from a widow remarrying? Would a widow who squandered her late husband’s estate to marry someone else still count as part of her former husband’s family? He wrote a seditious poem, and his whole family faces punishment. What does that have to do with me?”

The Emperor thought about it and realized her reasoning was sound.

He sighed in relief, then smiled at her and said, “I had thought your surname Liu was something you made up. Since that’s not the case, there’s nothing to worry about.”

“Nothing to worry about?” Liu Fuyi suddenly sat upright, grabbed his beard, and said with a playful but domineering tone, “Who says there’s nothing to worry about?”

“Ah, no, no, no! Pinfei, stop pulling! If you keep this up, and it goes bald, how undignified would that be ah?” The Emperor reached out to protect the sparse beard on his chin.

“I’ve only been in the Palace for a short time, and now my father suddenly writes a seditious poem? What a coincidence. Those people should be dealt with however they deserve, but it’s obvious this is aimed at me. You need to send someone to investigate and find out what’s really going on! If it is not thoroughly investigated…” Liu Fuyi tightened her grip, leaving her meaning unmistakable.

“Investigate, investigate! Zhen will definitely send someone to look into it. Just let go, my little ancestor!” the Emperor pleaded for mercy.

小祖宗 (xiǎo zǔzōng): Literally "little ancestor." A term of endearment often used for a spoiled child or a beloved person who is being difficult or demanding. By calling her this, the Emperor is signaling that he is "subservient" to her whims despite his higher rank.

Liu Fuyi let out a cold snort, released her grip, and found a single black beard hair pinched between her fingers. With a look of disdain, she flicked it away.

The Emperor touched his increasingly sparse beard and sighed heavily in resignation.

✦

This summer was unlike last year. Last year had few rainy days and many sunny ones, but this summer seemed to be the opposite. The rain started on the third day after Xu Nian’an left, continuing sporadically and showing no signs of stopping, even as Canglan Academy reopened for the semester.

The fine drizzle tapped against the eaves, while thunder rumbled in the clouds. Zhao Huanxi sat in the classroom, his body stiff, his face pale, and a faint sheen of sweat on his forehead.

He had done his best to suppress his fear of such weather, but it felt as though an invisible hand was gripping his heart, refusing to let go. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t stay indifferent or unaffected.

“…Zhao Huanxi.”

The teacher was calling his name.

Zhao Huanxi snapped back to reality, realizing that both the teacher and his classmates were staring at him.

“Are you feeling unwell? Why is your face so pale?” the teacher asked with concern.

“I’m… I’m fine,” Zhao Huanxi replied, feeling as though even his cheeks had gone stiff, making it hard to speak.

“If you’re truly unwell, you may return to your dormitory to rest,” the teacher suggested.

“I’m fine, thanking Xiansheng for the concern,” Zhao Huanxi replied quickly, though he doubted he could walk back to his dormitory alone. In fact, he didn’t think he could bring himself to step out of the classroom right now.

Wiping the cold sweat from his forehead with his sleeve, he reached for his chest, where a hard, round object lay hidden-the small handheld mirror Dong Jiejie had given him.

He thought of Dong Jiejie and how, around this time last year, she would always hold his head and cover his ears with her hands.

Her embrace was so soft and warm, it always managed to calm his nerves and ease his fear.

Thinking back to how he had reacted to thunderstorm days last year and comparing it to now, Zhao Huanxi felt that he had improved significantly. Perhaps this weakness was something he could truly overcome.

In the Jing Guogong Residence’s Jiaxiang House, Yin Furen listened to the thunder outside and watched the continuous curtain of water falling from the eaves, her mind also restless and uneasy.

水帘 (shuǐlián): Literally "water curtain". This is a poetic way to describe heavy rain falling off the tiled roofs of traditional Chinese buildings, creating a solid sheet of water.

She still didn’t know how Huanxi was doing at the Canglan Academy. With Xu Moxiu not around, and Lu Feng not in the same dormitory as him, would anyone be looking after him?

Since accepting Nian’an’s suggestion last year, she had sent people with portraits of Zhisi to search for children with a similar age and appearance. She had thought the results would come quickly, but unexpectedly, finding a child resembling Zhisi amidst the vast sea of people was proving much more difficult than anticipated. The three children she had found so far didn’t resemble him much, and she wondered when, or even if, they would find one that fully met the criteria.

Before they found him, how would Huanxi endure the thunderstorm weather every summer?

“Taitai, San Nainai has sent a letter.” Qianhe came in from outside, holding a letter.

Yin Furen took the letter, opened it, and saw that it was a safety letter from Xu Nian’an, saying that everything was going smoothly on her journey. She had already booked a passenger ship from Zhuo County to the capital and expected to arrive in eight days.

Yin Furen felt a bit better. As long as everything was going well, that was all that mattered. During this time when her daughter-in-law was away, she had truly felt somewhat unaccustomed.