Returning to one's parents' home
...
The candlelight flickered gently in the Buddhist hall, and the old master's voice suddenly lowered: "I oppose this marriage not because the Duke of Wei's family is too prestigious."
His withered fingers traced the unicorn pattern on the wooden box. "But the political landscape is ever-changing, and even those who have served the emperor well... cannot escape the infighting."
"It was then that I realized that the Jiang family was able to protect themselves in the chaos because that kid was helping them from behind."
"And then..." she asked softly.
"It was the coldest time of the year, with heavy snow falling from the sky. He volunteered to come to Liangzhou to handle some affairs," the old man said, his gaze passing through the flickering candlelight, as if he had returned to that snowy night.
"He stormed into the Jiang residence, covered in snow and stained with blood." The old man's fingers unconsciously traced the wooden box. "Upon seeing me, he knelt on one knee and said—"
"Uncle Jiang, I don't ask you to agree immediately, I just ask for a chance."
Xu Qingyao held her breath, as if she could see her young father kneeling in the snow, his eyebrows and eyelashes frosted with snow.
"I told him to kneel in the ancestral hall," the old man said with a wry smile. "Who knew that the silly boy would actually kneel there all night, and by dawn he was almost frozen solid."
He suddenly took out a jade pendant with ice crack patterns from the bottom of the box. "Your mother couldn't bear to part with it, so she secretly gave him this warm jade."
The jade pendant shimmered with a warm luster under the candlelight. When Xu Qingyao took it, she touched the tiny engraving on the back—half of the character "heart".
The candlelight crackled and popped, leaving a flickering flame. Xu Qingyao gazed at the small portrait of her father next to her mother's portrait—a young general with resolute features, a half-jade pendant hanging from his sword at his waist, the very same one she wore close to her body now.
"So you agree?"
The old man did not answer immediately.
He rose and took three incense sticks from the altar, lighting them over the candle flame. "That day I asked him why he insisted on marrying a merchant's daughter." The rising smoke blurred the old man's expression. "He said..."
Suddenly, the loquat tree in the courtyard rustled, and a distant voice drifted through the air:
"She said she missed the snow in Liangzhou, and I wanted to bring some back for her."
*
Xu Qingyao returned to the room the old lady had arranged for her, and the shock in her heart lingered for a long time.
"system."
【I am here. 】
Where is the story at now?
[Searching... The female lead has been sent to Lanling Ward in the capital, where she has just made contact with the Second Prince, Chu Chengjing.]
Xu Qingyao nodded and poured herself a glass of water.
People can't stay idle; when they are idle, they tend to overthink.
Why do my maternal grandfather and father have different versions of the story?
And what did her maternal grandfather mean when he said that the Jiang family had wronged her father?
What did the Jiang family do? Or was it her mother...?
Something flashed through Xu Qingyao's mind.
Yes... it's true that my parents love each other.
But the vested interests involved are also real.
She couldn't help but recall her father's words: "Every meeting after that was full of coincidences... I always managed to bump into Wanxin unexpectedly..."
If a single encounter is a coincidence, then multiple encounters are definitely not accidental.
Xu Qingyao lay on the table, dipping her hand in the water from the cup and gesturing on the table.
But why did my mother do that...?
Night was falling.
*
The Zhenyuan Marquis's Residence.
Half a month ago, Xiao Zhouyan returned from the palace to express his gratitude. He had not yet changed out of his black court robes, and the jade belt with a qilin bestowed by the emperor at his waist gleamed coldly in the twilight.
As soon as he stepped into the study, he saw Wei Yi kneeling on one knee, his armor covered in wet mud.
“Master, I have failed in my duty.” Wei Yi’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “I lost track of Madam.”
The candlelight on the table flickered and burst. Xiao Zhouyan paused in his act of untying his jade belt, the gold thread carving deep marks on his palm.
Explain clearly.
"The person in the carriage is a double; the real one... I've already sent several teams to search for her."
Wei Yi explained his plans after he left.
Xiao Zhouyan's fingertips traced the folds in the northwest corner of the map, suddenly stopping at the location of Liangzhou—the tea stains resembled a woman's profile.
"No need to look anymore." He tore off the imperial jade belt with a qilin design and threw it to Wei Yi. "Have the Shadow Guards continue chasing south. You take a few men and take the Hexi Road."
Wei Yi, holding the jade belt, was stunned: "But Liangzhou is Miss Xu's maternal grandfather..."
“That’s exactly why.” He took out the imperial decree bestowing the marriage, “As the grandson-in-law of the Jiang family, I should also pay my respects to my maternal grandfather.”
"Once you find the lady, just follow her."
Xiao Zhouyan gave instructions.
"yes."
"The homecoming ceremony is in a couple of days, so go and prepare what you need to bring."
*
The day of returning to one's parents' home.
The vermilion gates of the Duke of Wei's mansion had just opened when, before Xiao Zhouyan could even hand over the box of century-old ginseng, a flash of silver light struck him directly—
"What does the Second Young Master mean by this?"
The moment the sword wind swept away the copper bell on the eaves, Xiao Zhouyan suddenly changed his block into a guide, and the brocade box containing the century-old ginseng spun half a circle in his palm, actually deflecting Xu Xiuran's sword momentum by three points.
"General Xiao is in quite a mood today," Xu Xiuran sneered, his knuckles cracking as he clenched his fists. "I just entrusted my sister to you two days ago, and you lost her that very day. What do you mean by that?"
"This was my mistake. If you feel bad about it, Second Brother, it's good to let him vent his anger," Xiao Zhouyan said calmly.
"Vent your anger?" Xu Xiuran sneered. "You said it yourself—"
The moment the sword's edge pierced the air, Xiao Zhouxing flicked his wrist, and the edge of the brocade box precisely blocked the sword, sending sparks flying with a "clang".
"Second Brother's move is even more powerful than it was three years ago." He spun around, the brocade box gliding past the sword blade, guiding Xu Xiuran's sword strike towards the old plum tree stump beside the stone steps. The withered plum tree snapped in response, revealing newly sprouted buds inside.
Xu Xiuran flicked his sword tip, sending half a plum branch flying straight at Xiao Zhouxing's face: "Enough nonsense! If something really happened to her that day..."
Xiao Zhouxing turned his head to avoid it, and the plum branch brushed past his ear and embedded itself in the vermilion pillar.
He suddenly tossed the brocade box into the air and met Xu Xiuran's sword hilt with both hands: "So I have come today to apologize—" The wind from his palms made the sword tassel dance wildly, "Second brother, you may stab me right through the shoulder."
Xu Xiuran sneered and changed his move. His sword suddenly curved into a strange arc, bypassing the palm strike like a venomous snake and heading straight for the throat.
Xiao Zhouxing didn't dodge but instead advanced, flicking his fingertip seven inches from the blade—
"bite!"
Before the echo of the sword's cry had faded, a soft cough suddenly came from the gate of the mansion.
"Xiuran, is this your way of treating guests?"
Xu Zhiyuan stood before the steps in an indigo brocade robe, gently waving a folding fan in his hand, the gold thread wrapped around the fan ribs shimmering in the sunlight.
The steward following behind him carried a mahogany tray, with teacups on it remaining perfectly still, indicating that he had been standing outside the door for quite some time.
Xu Xiuran paused in his sword strike: "Big brother..."
Xu Zhiyuan closed his folding fan and bowed to Xiao Zhouyan in apology: "General, please forgive me, Xiu Ran was impetuous."
He then made a "please" gesture, saying, "Today is the homecoming banquet, and my father is already waiting for me in the main hall."
Inside the main hall, Duke Xu Lian of Wei sat upright, with a family letter whose sealing wax had been removed on his desk.
Seeing everyone enter, he raised his hand and pushed the letter toward Xiao Zhouyan: "My daughter is willful, and sent someone to deliver this letter yesterday morning."
The letter was unfolded, and the handwriting on it was slender, strong, and clear, obviously written by someone Qingyao had asked to write it.
"At the knees of my father:"
Her daughter was assassinated on her wedding night, though she survived unharmed. Yet, whenever she closes her eyes, she still sees a cold blade cutting through the wind. How could Qingyao not know that her father had planned for her all his life? But confining her to her chambers was not her wish. Life is short; one should live it to the fullest, whether it be riding through the rivers and lakes or amidst the clash of swords, it is always better than living in constant fear.
General Xiao was unjustly implicated in Qingyao's elopement; I earnestly hope that Father will not hold a grudge against him.
A few days ago, my eldest brother returned from visiting relatives in Liangzhou. Qingyao suddenly realized that she had never met her maternal grandfather in her life. The loquats are ripe now, and she has heard that the loquats from Liangzhou are much sweeter than those from the capital. Her heart is filled with longing for them. If she could taste even one, her life would not have been in vain.
Unfilial daughter Qingyao
Please take good care of yourself.
Xu Lian tapped the table lightly with his fingertips, and the letter from home trembled slightly with his movement: "General Xiao, I am truly ashamed that I have failed to raise my daughter properly."
He raised his hand to signal the maid to bring fresh tea, and the celadon teacup made a crisp sound as it tapped on the table.
"You flatter me, Your Excellency." Xiao Zhouyan took the teacup, his fingertips tracing the crackled ice along the rim. "It's just..."
Xiao Zhouyan's gaze fell on the ink stain that had spread across the letter, and he suddenly asked softly, "Is Qingyao... always like this?"
Xu Lian paused for a moment, then smiled wryly: "Yes, I've been like this since I was little." He pointed to the loquat tree outside the hall, "When I was five, I broke my arm while picking fruit for my sick wet nurse, but I didn't cry once."
Xu Xiuran stood with her sword in her arms, a slight smile playing on her lips: "When I was ten, I disguised myself as a boy and infiltrated the army camp, saying I wanted to share my father's burdens. When I was caught and brought back, I was still clutching a handful of sand, saying I wanted to learn how to deploy troops."
A knowing glint flashed in Xiao Zhouyan's eyes.
The person he had been searching for was her from beginning to end.
*
The snow that year I was sixteen was so cold it could kill you.
Xiao Zhouyan lay prone on the horse's back, blood gushing from the arrow wound in his left shoulder, soaking through his black armor. The northwest wind was like a knife, making it impossible to open one's eyes.
He recalled the words the Emperor had said to him on the shoulder when he left the capital: "The sons of the Xiao family should build a Great Wall with their blood and flesh."
ridiculous.
He can't even get out of this Gobi Desert.
In his hazy state, he heard a strange bell sound.
The tinkling sound didn't resemble camel bells, but rather... the anklets of courtesans on pleasure boats in Jiangnan?
"Holy crap! A living ancient general!"
A figure rushed against the wind and snow, revealing a porcelain-white face beneath a fluffy white hat.
The most striking thing was the dark osmanthus flower on the inside of her right wrist, which appeared and disappeared in the snow light as she pulled the reins.
Xiao Zhouyan tried to draw his sword, but she slapped his wound: "Don't move! If you bleed any more, you'll be going to see the King of Hell!"
Just as the pain made my vision go black, something cold suddenly touched my lips.
The sweet liquid poured into his mouth, carrying a fruity and spicy flavor he had never tasted before, burning his throat.
"A bottle of '82 Margaux mixed with Red Bull, you're getting a good deal." The girl shook the glass bottle in her hand, its surface reflecting a rainbow of colors in the moonlight. "This is the last bottle I brought here..."
Xiao Zhouyan coughed violently from the strange liquid, but the burning sensation in his throat miraculously suppressed the excruciating pain from his wound.
In his blurred vision, the dark osmanthus flower on the girl's wrist seemed to come alive, swaying gently in the wind and snow.
"Don't spit it out! This is good stuff!" The girl pinched his nose in a panic, then poured another mouthful into his mouth with her other hand. "It's expensive!"
The seven-colored glass bottle shimmered with an eerie halo under the moonlight, and Xiao Zhouyan vaguely saw strange characters engraved on the bottle—neither Chinese characters nor any Western Region script he had ever seen.
Even more remarkably, the bottle remained ice-cold even in the dead of winter, and the liquid inside did not freeze at all.
"You..." he began with difficulty, only to find his voice terribly hoarse.
"Shh... If you want to live..." the girl said mysteriously, "you have to listen to me."
She found a cave somewhere, dragged him inside, and took a strange bundle made of animal hide from her waist.
In Xiao Zhouyan's hazy vision, he saw her pull out a pair of silver scissors that gleamed with a cold light, and with a "snip," she cut open his blood-stained battle robe.
"Don't be afraid. I've seen much more serious injuries than this when I'm helping cattle and sheep give birth on the grasslands."
As the girl spoke, she took out a leather pouch from her bundle, from which poured out a brown powder that smelled of pine.
She skillfully sprinkled the powder on the wound, and Xiao Zhouyan immediately felt a cool sensation that overcame the burning pain.
“This is my specially made wound medicine,” she said proudly, shaking the leather bag. “It contains snow lotus and musk, and can even save a mare in a difficult labor.”
Xiao Zhouyan wanted to ask her why she carried these things with her, but she suddenly grabbed his wrist: "Don't move!"
She took out a silver needle, its end threaded with a nearly transparent thread, and skillfully moved it through his wound. The needlework was strange, unlike any Central Plains medical technique; it looked more like… sewing up animal hide?
"Don't worry, I'm an expert at stitching up lambs' wounds." She said, tying a neat knot and biting off the thread with her teeth. "I guarantee it will be neater than the stitches done by the imperial physicians in the Imperial Hospital."
Outside the cave, the wind and snow howled. The girl took out a small copper pot from her bundle and poured out some amber liquid to apply around the wound.
Xiao Zhouyan recognized it as mare's milk wine, a common beverage among grassland tribes, but she had added some strange spices, making it smell exceptionally invigorating.
“This is my secret recipe,” she winked, “it’s priceless.”
In his dazed state, Xiao Zhouyan felt her icy fingers brush against his burning forehead.
In his hazy state, he felt someone gently pat his face: "Hey! Don't sleep! Talk to me!"
He barely opened his eyes and saw the girl stuffing a strange object into his mouth. The sweet and bitter taste melted on his tongue, which surprisingly invigorated him.
"Chocolate, the last of the stock." The girl sighed. "You're so beautiful, it's such a shame you died."
Xiao Zhouyan wanted to laugh, but the movement aggravated his wound, causing him to gasp in pain. The girl immediately poured another mouthful of that strange wine into his mouth: "Drink some, it'll stop the pain."
As the wine went down his throat, he suddenly noticed the shadow cast by her eyelashes in the firelight—the curve was strangely familiar, as if he had seen it somewhere before. A blurry shadow flashed through his memory, but he could never quite grasp it.
“You…” he began with difficulty, “which tribe are you from…”
The girl paused for a moment, then suddenly laughed: "A tribe?" She shook her wrist, and the dark osmanthus blossoms seemed to come alive in the firelight. "Just think of me as... a fairy from the moon palace."
"A fairy from the moon palace?"
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