“Dote on you for the last time?” Yin Furen slowly walked up to him, clutching her chest as tears streamed down her face. She bent slightly and said, “It is precisely because I care for you that I cannot let you go. Your Wu Shu trained in martial arts since childhood, had exceptional talent, and was personally guided by your Zufu. Even so, he fell on the battlefield, defeated by that Gudesiqin. And you? How long have you been practicing martial arts? You’re going to the battlefield alone. Can you not imagine what fate awaits you?”

Zhao Huanxi’s eyes shimmered with tears as he earnestly replied, “I understand. If I go, I may die there. But if I don’t, I will live a life worse than death.”

Yin Furen, overwhelmed with pain, pointed at him and said, “No matter how you phrase it, you’re just trying to ensure your Zufu passes without regret, even if it means leaving me alone, with no one to depend on, and unable to have a peaceful end!”

Zhao Huanxi shook his head anxiously in denial.

In utter despair, Yin Furen dropped to her knees with a thud, facing him. Meeting Zhao Huanxi’s shocked gaze, she pleaded, “Mom has loved and cared for you all these years. Can you dote on Mom in return just this once? Just this one time.

“Mom married your father at seventeen, and by the following year, he had brought Du Yiniang into the house. Given my temperament, I would have severed all ties with him back then. But your Wai Zumu got wind of it and wrote to me, saying that if I couldn’t bear to part with your eldest sister and didn’t want a divorce, I must bear a son to secure my future.

“I admit your Zufu played a role in your birth. Without his pressure, using Du Yiniang and her child as leverage against your father, I would never have had Jiashan, Jiazhen, Jiaxian, or you. But I, your mother, had to endure years of disgust, pretending harmony with him for over a decade. I only gave birth to you when I was thirty. Have I not suffered more than anyone else for your sake?”

Zhao Huanxi’s tears fell like rain, and he was left speechless.

“Ever since you were born, for over ten years, I have neither fought nor contested. Even when others bullied us to our doorstep, I never thought of taking revenge or striking back. My only wish has been for you to grow up healthy and well. All my tolerance and forbearance, I treated it as accumulating virtue for your lifetime of safety and well-being. But now, you tell me you want to go to war? You’re destroying all the painstaking care I’ve given for decades, and worse, you’re taking away my will and hope to keep living.”

Yin Furen reached out her trembling hands, gripping his thin shoulders. She continued, “Even if you can’t think of me, think of Nian’an. You two have been married for just a year, and she’s only nineteen. She hasn’t even borne a child yet. If you go to war and don’t return, she’ll have to spend her whole life as a widow, clinging to your memorial tablet, with no support and no hope. Can you bear that?”

Zhao Huanxi left Yin Furen’s room, his eyes swollen and his spirit shattered, retreating to the Zhilan Garden alone.

Yin Furen, calming herself for a moment, washed her face and called for Qianhe. “Where is San Nainai now?” she asked.

Qianhe said, “She had just been seen with San Guniang going to San Guniang’s room together.”

“Go call her here, have her come alone,” Yin Furen instructed.

“Yes.” Qianhe glanced at her mistress’s reddened eyes and responded softly before leaving.

Before long, Xu Nian’an arrived.

Yin Furen dismissed the servants and ordered the door to be closed.

“Did you know about Huanxi volunteering for battle?”

Standing in the hall, Xu Nian’an faced Yin Furen’s stern expression and nodded slowly. “I knew.”

Yin Furen grabbed the teacup from the table and smashed it at Xu Nian’an’s feet, her voice sharp and accusing: “I asked you to help me persuade him not to do anything reckless, and what did you do? You used my trust in you to hide this from me and allowed him to bring about such a disaster! He is your husband, and yet you’re so eager to send him to the battlefield to die? What exactly are you after?”

“Because I don’t want him to end up like my father, exhausted in body and mind, dying young and filled with regret,” Xu Nian’an said calmly.

Yin Furen froze, her brows furrowing. “What do you mean by that?”

“Since I was young, I rarely saw my father smile. He could be gentle and loving, but he would never smile. He always left the house silently, returned silently, read books silently… For a long time, I thought he was simply a serious, unsmiling person by nature. It wasn’t until after he passed away that I found a locked box beneath the couch in his study. Inside were various books on construction and architecture, along with numerous manuscripts. I had never seen him handle anything like that and wasn’t sure if they were his. So, I asked the old servant who had served him. The servant told me that those were indeed Father’s belongings. When he was young, Father had a deep passion for civil engineering and architecture. He would often lose himself in drawing blueprints, forgetting to eat or sleep. He was once full of ambition, boldly declaring that he would become the greatest craftsman in the world. But my Zumu disagreed.”

The room was silent, the air heavy. Xu Nian’an’s voice was ethereal, as if it came from the depths of memory, echoing faintly.

“Zumu was domineering, and Father was not the rebellious sort. With the weight of filial piety pressing on him, he was constrained at every turn, unable to break free. In the end, he had no choice but to abandon his aspirations and follow Zumu’s orders to take the imperial examination. He passed, but from that moment on, the light in his eyes was gone. He remained melancholy and despondent, passing away from illness at thirty-five, having spent his brief, arranged life by Zumu.”

Yin Furen almost immediately retorted, “How can these two situations be compared? Your father gave up his heart’s true calling, but Huanxi going to war is something he’s being forced into! If not for his Zufu falling ill, he wouldn’t be going to the battlefield.”

“Zufu hasn’t woken yet. If Huanxi truly didn’t want to go, who could force him? Father gave up his personal aspirations. If he could’ve let go of it, no external force would’ve affected him. Yet, even so, he spent his whole life unable to reconcile with himself. But Sanlang is different. He is confronting the weight of duty to his family and country. He wants to go. If you forbid him, he won’t be able to let it go. When Cheng Guogong and others use this against him, he’ll face internal and external strife, and it’ll haunt him for the rest of his life. Mom, I can’t bear to let Sanlang go either, but Sanlang is first and foremost his own person, and only after that is he your son or my husband. He wants to be someone who dares to take responsibility and stand tall in the world. I have no right to oppose him.” As she spoke, Xu Nian’an couldn’t stop her tears from falling.

“Then have you never considered that by not opposing him, by letting him go, he might die? He might never come back. He’s only seventeen! I raised him with the utmost care, afraid he’d melt if held too gently or shatter if held too tightly. He’s never even seen a chicken slaughtered, how can he possibly be suited for the battlefield?” Yin Furen clutched her chest, tears streaming down her face as her voice broke with emotion.

“Mom, when you married Gongdiē, you must have known that if you didn’t divorce him, the future would be fraught with hardship. Why, then, did you choose not to divorce him?” Xu Nian’an looked at Yin Furen, her eyes brimming with tears.

Yin Furen’s breath hitched.

Why hadn’t she divorced him? Naturally, it was because she couldn’t bear to leave her eldest daughter, Jiayi. If she had divorced, Jiayi, still just a young girl, would have been left without the care of a legitimate Zumu, forced to fend for herself under Zhao Mingkun and his new wife. Who knew what kind of torment she would have endured?

Gains always come with losses. She protected Jiayi from birth until marriage, but the price was a life even more desolate than that of a widow. All of this, she had foreseen back then, yet she still chose not to divorce.

“Mom, Sanlang is your son, and in some ways, he takes after you. Think back to how you felt when you decided not to divorce Gongdiē, and you will understand how he feels now. This time, the Emperor has conferred upon him the title of General Yunhui. It’s merely an honorary position without real power, he won’t need to lead troops into battle. I believe General Li, who is stationed in Liaodong, will also understand the Emperor’s intent. Sanlang’s mission is to serve as a banner for the Zhao Family, he only needs to stand tall as that symbol. General Li would never send him to confront Gudesiqin on the battlefield. Sanlang might endure some hardship, but he will… he will definitely come back alive.” Xu Nian’an wiped her tears with a handkerchief, her voice firm with conviction.

Yin Furen felt her mind was a tangled mess, and her body weary. Supporting her forehead with one hand, she said, “You may go.”

Xu Nian’an bowed to her respectfully, then turned and slowly walked out.

Zhao Huanxi did not go to Jiaxiang House for dinner, instead, he had dinner in the guest courtyard with Yin Luochen and Fu Yunjin, returning to Shenhui Courtyard quite late.

Xu Nian’an had already gone to bed. Zhao Huanxi tiptoed into the bedroom, sat quietly on the edge of the bed, and watched her for a moment before heading out to the study.

“San Yé, shall the ink be prepared?” Tonight, it was Mingli on night duty. Seeing Zhao Huanxi heading to the study alone in the dark, she softly asked.

“No need. You may rest,” Zhao Huanxi replied.

When he reached the study, he lit the candles himself, ground the ink, and spread out a sheet of blank paper. Yet, before he could write, his vision blurred.

He held back for a moment but eventually couldn’t contain himself. Leaning over the desk, he wept quietly for a long while. Finally, he straightened up, wiped away his tears with his sleeve, dipped his brush in ink, and wrote the words “Letter of Separation”.

As the final stroke fell, tears streamed down once more, wetting the paper. He had no choice but to start over.

For a letter of merely two hundred words, he wrote and paused, revising repeatedly. It took him nearly half an hour to finish.

Once the ink dried completely, he carefully folded the letter, placed it into an envelope, and hid it inside a book on the shelf. Afterward, he made his way to Jiaxiang House.

As expected, Yin Furen had not yet gone to rest.

“Coming here so late, have you finally made up your mind?” In the side chamber of Jiaxiang House’s main hall, Yin Furen sat on a luohan couch, her expression weary as she looked at her son.

Zhao Huanxi knelt before her and said, “Mom, I am determined to go to Liaodong. I have come tonight to give you an answer to the question you asked me during the day. If I return alive, there will naturally be nothing more to say. But if I do not, you will receive a title of honor, just as Zumu did after Wu Shu died in battle.

“This afternoon, I spoke with Luochen Biao Ge. He said he plans to stay in the capital and will take care of you on my behalf. By then, with the title of honor to secure livelihood, Luochen Biao Ge looking after you, and my four elder sisters fulfilling my filial duties, even without a son, your later years will not be difficult.”

Yin Furen looked at him, tears streaming like rain.

Zhao Huanxi, feeling deeply pained himself, let his tears fall as he said, “And then there’s Nian’an. Mom, if I don’t make it back, let her go. You were right, she’s still so young. It would be too cruel for her to live as a widow for the rest of her life.

“I’ve already written the letter of separation. If that day truly comes, someone will come to take her away. I once promised to grow old with her, and if I can’t return, that would make me a liar.

“Mom, when you send her away, remember to give her a shop or two and a house where she can settle down and make a living. Think of it as repaying a debt on my behalf.”

Yin Furen raised her hand and struck him, crying and rasping through her sobs, “Saying such things, are you trying to take my life? How could I have given birth to such a heartless child?”

Zhao Huanxi leaned against her knees, accepting her blows and scolding without resistance, only sobbing as he said, “Mom, I’m sorry. If I can return this time, I will devote the rest of my life to honoring you. If not, then in the next life, I will be the parent, and Mom the child, so it will be your turn to collect the debt from me.”

讨债 (tǎozhài): To collect a debt. In Chinese culture, a difficult or "expensive" child is often jokingly or tragically referred to as a "debt-collector creditor" (zhàizhǔ) from a past life, whom the parents must now "repay" through the labor of raising them.