Chapter 69: Farewell in the Suburbs
At the third quarter of the hour of Yin (3:45 AM), before dawn, the Duke of Zhenguo's mansion was already brightly lit.
The heavy gates of the mansion slowly opened, and the guards, clad in armor and armed with weapons, stood silently on both sides of the street in front of the gate, as silent as cast iron statues. The horses' hooves, wrapped in cotton cloth, pounded on the bluestone slabs with a dull thud, adding to the oppressive atmosphere.
Gu Yangui, clad in black iron armor with his helmet tucked under his arm, took one last look at the mansion behind him. The old matriarch, supported by Granny Fang, stood inside the ceremonial gate, tears streaming down her face, but she forced herself to remain silent, only waving her hand forcefully.
His gaze finally settled on Su Wanrou, who was holding Mingxuan.
Today, she was dressed in the formal attire of a Duchess, a scarlet silk skirt, looking extremely dignified, which made her little face appear even whiter and more youthful. Mingxuan was also wearing a brand-new royal blue brocade robe, held tightly in his mother's arms, his little hands wrapped around his mother's neck, his big eyes filled with innocent unease.
Gu Yangui walked up to them.
Su Wanrou handed Mingxuan over, trying her best to keep her voice steady: "Xuan'er, tell your father that you have a safe journey and will return in triumph soon."
Mingxuan seemed to feel the weight of parting as well. He pouted and said in a tearful voice, but with unusual clarity, "Father... fight the bad guys... come home soon. Xuan'er will miss Father."
Gu Yangui felt a pang of sadness. He reached out and took his son, hugging him tightly. The child's soft little body, carrying the scent of milk, was the deepest longing in his heart. He buried his face in the child's neck for a moment, and when he looked up again, his usual coldness had returned. He handed Mingxuan back to Su Wanrou, looking at her with a deep gaze.
"I'm leaving."
All the words in the world can be summed up in just these three words.
Su Wanrou held her son, gazing deeply into his eyes as if trying to etch his image into her soul. She nodded, her countless words of advice condensed into a single sentence: "Be careful in everything."
Gu Yangui said no more, turned around, and nimbly mounted his horse. His black cloak drew a sharp arc in the air. He took one last look at the slender yet upright figure in crimson robes standing before the gate, pulled on the reins, and said in a deep voice, "Let's go!"
The sound of horses' hooves, no longer suppressed, rose like thunder, shattering the silence of dawn. A black torrent surged toward the city gate.
Su Wanrou held Mingxuan in her arms and stood in front of the mansion gate until the procession disappeared at the end of the long street and could no longer be seen.
"Mother," Mingxuan asked softly, "when will Father return?"
Su Wanrou withdrew her gaze, gently patted her son's back, and looked at the first hint of dawn on the eastern horizon. She said softly, "When Xuan'er grows a little taller, Father will come back."
two
At Chenshi (7-9 AM), at the ten-mile-long pavilion on the outskirts of the capital.
The place was already packed with people. Besides the formal farewell procession arranged by the imperial court, there were mostly ordinary people and their families who had come spontaneously to bid farewell to their loved ones. The sounds of weeping, words of advice, and children's calls mingled together, and the air was filled with an overwhelming sense of sorrow at parting.
Under the escort of her personal guards, Su Wanrou's carriage from the Duke's mansion struggled to a stop on a slightly elevated earthen slope near the pavilion. This spot offered a better view and offered respite from the crowds.
She carried Mingxuan out of the car, followed by Yunbin and Yuebai, as well as several bodyguards. The old matriarch, being too old to bear such a scene, did not come.
In the distance, bugles sounded and banners fluttered as the main force of the northern expeditionary army assembled and made final preparations before their departure. The dark, silent army exuded a chilling aura, a stark contrast to the sorrow of the mourners seeing them off.
Su Wanrou strained her eyes to see the distance, searching for that familiar figure among the dense ranks of soldiers and flags. Finally, at the very front of the column, under the enormous banner embroidered with the ferocious character "Gu," she saw him.
He sat atop a tall, black warhorse, his armor gleaming coldly in the early summer sun. The distance was too great for her to see his face clearly, but she could feel his awe-inspiring, domineering presence. He was the soul of this iron lion, the guardian deity of the northern border of the Great Zhou Dynasty.
But in her eyes, he was first and foremost her husband who was about to embark on a long journey.
Mingxuan saw it too, and excitedly pointed with his little finger: "Mother! Father! It's Father!"
Just then, a deep and long bugle call sounded from within the army, signaling the start of the march.
With the commander's flag waved, the vanguard began to move slowly, like a black dragon crawling northward.
"Father! Father!" Mingxuan seemed to finally realize that he would not see his father for a long time after he left. He suddenly cried out loudly and struggled in Su Wanrou's arms to rush in that direction.
Su Wanrou hugged her son tightly, tears streaming down her face. She bit her lower lip hard, trying not to cry out, and just stared fixedly at the figure under the banner, growing ever more distant.
The surrounding cries grew louder, and many of the women who came to see him off collapsed to the ground, sobbing uncontrollably.
The army's march gradually quickened, and the commander's flag receded into the distance, eventually blurring into a black dot in the field of vision.
"Madam, the Duke... has already gone far away, shall we go back?" Yunbin, her eyes red-rimmed, stepped forward and gently advised. The wind on the slope was rather strong, making people's clothes flutter loudly.
Su Wanrou seemed not to hear, stubbornly gazing northwards at the army gradually disappearing on the horizon. Mingxuan's cries in her arms gradually subsided into soft sobs as he buried his face in the crook of her neck.
It is unknown how much time passed, until the last trace of the banner disappeared at the horizon, until the noisy crowd of people seeing them off gradually dispersed, leaving only the empty ten-mile-long pavilion and the mess on the ground.
The world seemed to fall silent all at once, with only the mournful sound of the wind remaining.
Su Wanrou finally slowly withdrew her gaze, raised her hand, and gently wiped away the tears on her face with her fingertips. She looked down at her son in her arms, who was crying himself to sleep and was somewhat drowsy, and gently patted his back.
“Xuan’er, don’t be afraid,” her voice was still slightly choked, but unusually firm. “Father has gone to protect our country. Let’s go home and wait for him to come back.”
She held her son, turned, and walked toward the carriage. Her steps were no longer unsteady, and her back was straight.
That scarlet imperial robe stood out like a stubbornly burning flame on the barren earthen slope.
The carriage slowly started moving, leaving this sorrowful place of farewell and heading towards the deep mansion where she would have to support it alone from then on.
The car curtains were drawn, shutting out the outside world. Su Wanrou carefully placed the sleeping Mingxuan on the cushioned seat and covered him with a small blanket. She sat quietly, watching the fields outside the window rushing past, already beginning to turn green.
The sorrow of parting surged into my heart once more, even more intensely than before. From this day forward, separated by mountains and rivers, we may never meet again. All my worries and longings will have to be buried deep within my heart.
She took something out of her sleeve and clutched it tightly in her palm. It was something she had found on her pillow after he left last night—a smooth, warm-to-the-touch white jade safety buckle, strung with a simple black silk thread.
Without a single word, it speaks volumes.
She carefully put the safety buckle around her neck and tucked it close to her body. The jade pendant, still warm from his body, rested against her heart, as if he were silently by her side.
The carriage bumped and jolted as it entered the imposing city gates of the capital. The city's hustle and bustle rushed in, as if from another world.
Su Wanrou took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and when she opened them again, only calmness and determination remained in her eyes.
A thousand-mile journey must eventually come to an end. But for her, the battlefield has only just begun.
three
It was already afternoon when they returned to the Duke of Zhenguo's mansion.
The guards at the gates remained as strict as ever, but the atmosphere inside was noticeably different. A sense of emptiness, as if the mansion had lost its anchor, permeated the air. The servants moved with even greater caution, their footsteps becoming much softer, as if afraid of disturbing something.
Su Wanrou first escorted the sleeping Mingxuan back to his small courtyard, carefully instructing the wet nurse and maid to take good care of him, before returning to Guiren Residence.
As soon as she entered the room, the exhaustion from holding on for a whole day and night instantly overwhelmed her. She waved away Yunbin and Yuebai, who wanted to serve her, and walked alone to the window of the inner room.
Outside the window, the courtyard was deserted. The mansion, which had felt crowded and noisy yesterday, now seemed so empty. The rosewood armchair he often sat in was empty, and the She inkstone he usually used sat quietly in a corner of the desk. Even the air seemed to retain his cool and refreshing scent.
Things have changed, but people are no longer the same.
These four words have never been so clear and cruel as they are now.
Tears streamed down her face again, silently and uncontrollably. She allowed herself this moment of vulnerability, just this moment.
After a long while, she raised her hand and forcefully wiped away her tears. Now is not the time to be sad.
She walked to her dressing table and looked at her reflection in the mirror—her eyes red and swollen, her face pale. She took a deep breath, opened her vanity case, took out some face powder, and carefully concealed the traces of her tears. Then, she lightly applied a layer of rouge to make her complexion look less unpleasant. Next, she meticulously removed the elaborate headdress from her hair, replacing it with a simple jade hairpin. She also changed out of her heavy official robes and into a more elegant apricot-colored casual dress.
The woman in the mirror, though still looking tired and with a hint of lingering sorrow in her eyes, had straightened her back and regained her composure, even exuding a calmer strength than before.
She was no longer the pampered wife who needed to be protected under his wings, but the mistress of the Duke of Zhenguo's mansion, the wife to whom Gu Yangui entrusted his life, fortune, and young child.
"Cloud-like hair, moon-white hair," she called out.
Two maids immediately responded and entered.
"Go and invite Steward Gu Zhong over." Su Wanrou's voice was calm and even. "Also, notify all stewards to assemble in the flower hall at 3:45 PM. I have something to tell you."
"Yes, Madam!" Seeing that Madam had cheered up so quickly, Yunbin and Yuebai felt reassured and hurriedly accepted the order and left.
Su Wanrou walked to the desk, spread out the paper, and ground the ink to moisten the brush. She needed to sort out her thoughts: how to better manage the household after he left, how to deal with potential troubles, and how... to wait for him to return.
The pen tip touched the paper with a soft rustling sound. The sunlight outside the window gradually slanted westward, casting a long, lonely, yet powerful shadow on her.
The tears shed at their farewell in the suburbs had dried. From now on, she would walk the road ahead alone, resolutely. For him, for Mingxuan, and for their shared home.
Until the day we met again.
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