Hearing Old Master Chen mention Lady Cheng, Chen Dan-niang—who was sitting under the eaves outside watching the maids and servants try to fish camels—immediately turned around.
“Grandfather, Lady Cheng has been gone for almost a month now,” she replied, getting up and running inside.
Old Master Chen smiled at her, then pulled out a scroll of maps from a nearby bamboo-leg table.
It was a map copied from the imperial palace—not something every household could have. It was worth a fortune.
Chen Shao quickly stood up to help him unroll it, while Chen Dan-niang stood nearby, watching with curiosity.
Old Master Chen slowly let his gaze wander across the map.
“…Ten days ago, by the travel schedule, she should have reached…” he said while flipping through part of the scroll. At last, his hand paused on a spot, and his expression turned somewhat strange.
Seeing his father fall silent, Chen Shao also lowered his head to look—and his expression too became a little odd.
Taicang Road.
Taicang Road!
“Father, what are you thinking!” he immediately said, raising his voice slightly.
Old Master Chen smiled and withdrew his gaze from the map.
“I’m thinking exactly what you’re thinking,” he said with a grin.
Chen Shao, feeling lightly teased by his father, looked a little uncomfortable.
“I miss Lady Cheng.” Chen Dan-niang seized the chance to chime in, quickly speaking up with a childlike tone.
Old Master Chen burst out laughing.
Chen Shao got up to excuse himself, returned to the study, and picked up a scroll to read—but after a short while, he set it down again.
According to the detailed report brought back by Feng Lin, the passersby who stepped in to help numbered around twenty, coming from the direction of the capital, and they were escorting a lady…
A lady!
And two people were killed on the spot…
Could it really be that fool from Jiang–zhou again?
In the imperial palace, two eunuchs were also unrolling a map.
Duke Jin’an stepped closer to take a careful look, his hand pointing along the map.
“By foot travel estimates, she should have reached here today…” he said, smiling as he studied it intently.
Footsteps sounded from outside the door.
“Your Highness, slow down…” came an intentionally exaggerated voice from one of the eunuchs.
Duke Jin’an didn’t turn his head—until the young boy behind him came running over.
“What are you looking at?” the Second Prince asked, wrapping his arms around the duke’s.
Duke Jin’an swung his arm to pull him around to the front.
“A map,” he said.
“What’s a map?” the Second Prince asked, gazing at the large scroll painting. “Is it a painting?”
Its lines were all squiggly and dotted—not pretty at all.
“A map is… the world,” Duke Jin’an said with a smile, pointing as he explained. “Look, this here is the capital…”
The Second Prince leaned in closer, his face full of surprise.
“The capital?!” he exclaimed, his small chubby finger pointing at the same spot. “It’s not even as big as my finger!”
Duke Jin’an burst out laughing and gave him a light tap on the head.
“It’s a scaled-down version. Otherwise, how could such a vast world fit on one sheet of paper?” he said. “Once you’re older and your tutor starts teaching you the Fangyu Zhi and astronomy and geography, you’ll understand.”
The Second Prince gave an oh and then clung to Duke Jin’an, pestering him to explain what each place on the map was.
Duke Jin’an explained each one patiently. After a bit of playful chatter, he told the boy to go keep the Empress company.
“The Empress always asks me about my studies…” the Second Prince grumbled, reluctant to go, tugging at Duke Jin’an’s sleeve.
“That’s because the Empress cares about you,” Duke Jin’an said with a smile, crouching down to his level. “Though she didn’t give birth to you, she raised you. She’s close to you, so she scolds you more. When love is deep, expectations are high. You know, I’d give anything for someone to care about me like that…”
He paused mid-sentence and quickly changed the topic.
“…There are plenty of people who long for that kind of care and never get it.”
The Second Prince didn’t fully understand but nodded obediently with another soft oh.
“If you’re kind to others, they’ll feel it—you have to be kind from the heart,” said Duke Jin’an, patting his chest as he spoke.
“I know! I can feel that you’re kind to me from the heart!” the Second Prince replied happily.
Duke Jin’an laughed heartily and reached out to pinch his chubby cheeks.
“Then go on, hurry now,” he said.
After sending the Second Prince off, Duke Jin’an had the eunuchs put away the map and sat down at the writing desk.
“Your Highness, it’s time for your medicine,” a eunuch said, holding out a bowl of herbal decoction.
“Already?” Duke Jin’an asked.
“Yes, it’s already late autumn,” the eunuch replied.
Duke Jin’an pressed a hand to his chest and nodded.
“Time really flies. If no one said anything, I would’ve forgotten. It’s starting to hurt a little again,” he said as he took the bowl and downed the medicine in one gulp.
“How many more years will I have to keep taking this stuff?”
The eunuch sat nearby, counting on his fingers.
“It’s already been five years. Just three more to go,” he said.
Duke Jin’an gave a faint smile.
“Five years already,” he murmured, a bit surprised. He stroked his chin with a touch of nostalgia, as if recalling those past days—
Though those days were far from pleasant.
“Time really flies,” he said, lowering his head. “Everything will pass.”
“Yes, Your Highness. All suffering will pass,” the eunuch said through clenched teeth.
Duke Jin’an gave a quiet “Mm” in response and said no more. He unfolded a piece of paper—it was a half-written letter.
The eunuch bowed, rose, and slowly backed out of the hall. Before leaving, he looked back at the young duke sitting upright within the room.
Five years…
He still remembered clearly how that child, returning from the Gao family banquet, had collapsed onto him, vomiting as if on the brink of death…
If Doctor Li hadn’t intervened, he might have long since turned to bones.
Even though he’d been saved, the residual poison couldn’t be fully purged. Every year at the turn from autumn to winter, he still had to take medicine.
And from that moment on, the boy had finally understood—some things weren’t just scare tactics from eunuchs and maids.
Death was real.
In this palace, he wasn’t just a lucky charm adored by the consorts.
He was also a thorn in some people’s eyes.
“…And often, those who see us as a thorn in their side, who hate us—more often than not, they were once the ones who liked us…”
Duke Jin’an paused his writing, thought for a moment, then continued his brushwork.
“…So everything will pass. The suffering will, and so will the joy. Perhaps this is what they call the impermanence of the world…”
Then one day, would this very moment also pass?
Duke Jin’an once again stopped writing.
The longing, the joy of this moment… that seemingly familiar yet distant friend…
He unconsciously tightened his grip on the brush.
Just like everyone else around him—like his father, his mother, his siblings, His Majesty, the consorts, the princes…
He reached out, crumpled the paper in his palm, and threw it aside.
But he still couldn’t calm the unease in his heart.
So he got up, picked it back up, glanced around, opened the lid of the incense burner, and tossed the paper in.
Smoke quickly began to rise.
Duke Jin’an coughed twice, put the lid back on, and watched the thick smoke disperse. Only then did he finally feel a bit of relief.
But when he turned back to look at the desk, he frowned again.
“Still haven’t written the letter…” he muttered to himself, walking back over.
“Didn’t even say goodbye when they left. If I don’t at least write a letter, it really wouldn’t be something a friend would do…”
As autumn deepened and the morning dew grew heavier, the concubines in the inner palace found fewer places to visit. At the suggestion of the Noble Consort, and with the Empress Dowager’s approval, a new open pavilion had been built. From it, one could gaze upon a maple forest just outside the palace walls—ablaze in red, breathtakingly beautiful. It had quickly become the favorite spot of the court ladies and consorts in recent days.
When the Noble Consort arrived, the Empress Dowager was chatting and laughing with the concubines. The First Prince was also present, having just composed a poem and now basking in their praise.
“Why don’t I see the Second Prince?” the Noble Consort asked with a smile, gesturing for the concubines to skip the formalities as she sat just below the Empress Dowager.
“Such fine weather—he should be out enjoying it.”
“Probably busy with his studies again,” one of the concubines said with a chuckle.
“The Empress is just too strict. The Second Prince is still so young,” the Noble Consort said with a shake of her head.
The Empress Dowager smiled.
“No, just now I sent someone to call him. They said he’s with the Emperor.” she said.
With the Emperor?
For others, that might have been no big deal, but the Noble Consort’s smile faltered slightly. After a moment of thought, she stood up.
“I’ll go fetch him,” she said, looking at the concubines with a smile. “And I’ll invite His Majesty as well.”
Her words delighted the concubines, who eagerly urged the Noble Consort to hurry.
She glanced at the Empress Dowager, who smiled and waved her off.
Only then did the Noble Consort bow and take her leave.
“Your Highness is in the Funing Palace,” the eunuch said as he led the way.
The Noble Consort walked along the path, and the eunuch standing outside Funing Palace hurried forward to greet her.
“Your Highness, please wait a moment. I’ll go inform him,” the eunuch said.
The Noble Consort nodded and watched the eunuch enter. The door was left open, and she could hear voices from inside.
“…Did you just help the Empress take her medicine before coming here?”
“…Yes. Father, I’m telling you, don’t tell anyone else. The Empress doesn’t like taking medicine—it’s bitter, and if she’s not watched, she won’t take it properly.”
Laughter came from inside the hall, full of joy.
The Noble Consort’s mouth twitched slightly. That little chubby boy sure knew how to talk—he knew the Emperor loved when his children showed filial care…
“…Father, Father, I know this is your world…”
“…Oh? Do you really know what the world is?”
“…Of course I do. I also know how to look at Father’s world… Father, look, here is the capital, this way is Mount Tai… and here is the Yellow River…”
Laughter from the Emperor echoed through the hall.
“Good, good. You truly are clever. Come, since you like it, Father will hold you and show you this world…”
Hearing these words, the Noble Consort’s heart skipped a beat. She couldn’t help but step forward and lean in to look inside.
In the great hall, a pale, slender figure held up a child, standing before a magnificent embroidered map of the world hanging on the wall. Father and son smiled brightly as they pointed together at the rivers and mountains.
The Noble Consort’s hand clutched the embroidered gauze scarf draped before her.
“Your Majesty, the Noble Consort is outside.”
“Come in.”
The Noble Consort straightened her posture, her face bright with a radiant smile, and stepped into the hall.
The scent of autumn gradually faded. Looking out across the fields, the once golden carpet had been rolled away, revealing yellow-black earth where farmers busily sowed their winter crops.
“Miss, do you still remember this place?” Ban Qin asked excitedly, lowering her gaze from the road to look at the faintly visible city gate ahead.
Since they had passed Taicang, the road they were traveling had merged with the one they took when returning home from Bing-zhou.
“Of course I remember,” Cheng Jiao-niang said.
After all, they had passed through here on the way to the capital.
“No, I mean when we were together…” Ban Qin said, pointing to herself.
Cheng Jiao-niang smiled.
“My memory only got better after you left,” she said.
So of course, she didn’t remember.
Ban Qin chuckled.
“This is Tongjiang County,” she said.
“Young Master Han,” Cheng Jiao-niang replied.
Ban Qin smiled and nodded as the carriage entered the city gate. Steward Cao had already sent people ahead to choose a suitable inn and drove the carriage straight there.
They got out in front of the inn, while the horses and carriages were taken by the attendants to the backyard for rest.
When Cheng Jiao-niang stepped down wearing her veil, there was no movement from Wang Shi’qi-lang’s carriage nearby. The old servant stood awkwardly in front of the carriage.
“Young Master, please come down quickly…” he whispered.
“I’m not coming down. I’m not staying. I want to keep going…” came Wang Shi’qi-lang’s muffled voice from inside.
“Young Master, if you keep going, you’ll have to sleep out in the wild. Aren’t you afraid of wolves?” the old servant said softly.
“No. People are much scarier than wolves,” Wang Shi’qi-lang immediately replied.
That phrase sounded familiar…
Wasn’t that exactly what the lady had said before?
The old servant was both amused and helpless, turning his head to see that Cheng Jiao-niang and the others had already gone inside. The Zhou family’s attendants were also hurrying the carriage toward the backyard, leaving only their two carriages and a few riders at the gate. The shop assistants standing nearby to greet guests looked a bit puzzled.
“Hey, are you all together?” they asked.
“Yes, yes,” the old servant hurriedly replied, glancing at the carriage curtain.
“Young Master, if you don’t come down soon, Lady Cheng might get angry and come call you herself…”
Before he finished speaking, the carriage curtain was pulled aside.
The assistants couldn’t see clearly who got out, only sensing a gust of wind as someone rushed past them. They vaguely heard choking sobs.
“…I can’t live like this anymore…”
