She turned and walked towards the small kitchen, her pomegranate skirt sweeping the remaining snow on the steps. Suddenly, the night wind blew the bronze bells from the eaves, their ding-dong mingling with a barely audible sigh: "This time, it's my turn to guard the mansion."
…
The candlesticks cast flickering shadows across the study. Jiang Yihuan's knuckles turned white as he gripped the celadon teacup. The bronze Taotie statue on the Treasure Pavilion reflected his stiff profile, its cloud-and-thunder patterns a perfect reflection of his turbulent emotions.
"Father..." His Adam's apple rolled, and the tea in the cup rippled. "My son has been hearing some strange noises these days..."
Jiang Dinglian's hand, which was wiping the black iron sword, suddenly stopped. The cold light of the sword's tip passed over the corners of his son's tightly pursed lips. "Like, 'bad dad', 'spendthrift', or something like that?"
"Clang!" The teacup overturned onto the lotus-covered tablecloth, the green tea spilling over the pages of Wujing Zongyao. Jiang Yihan stared at the dragon-patterned jade pendant around his father's waist—a birthday gift from Jiang Songyi last year on her coming-of-age day. It now swayed gently with its owner's movements.
"You...you also..." His voice was dry as if he had swallowed gravel, "Then mother and the others..."
"Last month, your grandmother's Buddhist beads broke seven times." Jiang Dinglian sheathed his sword, the tortoise shell pattern embroidered in gold thread polished to a shine. "Your aunt gets a headache whenever she hears the word 'stars' now."
Suddenly, a night owl cried outside the window, startling the iron railings in the corridor. Jiang Yihuan looked at the broken pottery figurine on the antique display shelf—he had accidentally broken it on Jiang Songyi's birthday last year. Now, with the cracks patched with gold lacquer, it looked even more magnificent in the candlelight than when it was intact.
"So the county lady..." His fingertips unconsciously stroked the faded peace knot on the sword tassel, which Jiang Songyi had made when she was fourteen. "Did she really hire someone to kill Yue Qingyang?"
Jiang Dinglian suddenly slammed the black iron sword on the table, and the scabbard caused cinnabar to splash all over the inkstone: "The rat poison in the imperial prison was planted by Dongling spies, what does it have to do with your sister?" The splashed cinnabar looked like blood spots on the wall of the imperial prison.
The sound of the night watch pierced through the sound of raindrops hitting banana leaves, and Jiang Yihuan thought of the new jade bracelet on Jiang Yuyao's wrist. That jade, so full of water, was not something that should be given to a concubine.
"Yihuan." Jiang Dinglian suddenly drew his sword, the cold light reflecting the dark tide in his son's eyes. "As a general, the most important thing is to avoid being blinded by the light."
When thunder roared on a rainy night, Jiang Songyi was painting her eyebrows in the mirror. Her black ink shone like peacock feathers in the candlelight. Her hair was tied into a man's bun, and the oriental pearl adorned the end of her headband was a gift from the Crown Prince the previous year.
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