When the sky was fully bright, the hazy morning mist turned into a steady drizzle, and the streets of the capital were much emptier than usual.
Fan Jianglin, cloaked in a raincoat and wearing a bamboo hat, walked briskly. Suddenly, a commotion arose on the street as a convoy of carriages and horses rushed forward, surrounded by a noisy entourage. Caught off guard, Fan Jianglin quickly stepped aside to make way. Even so, as the horses galloped past, water splashed up from their hooves, staining the hem of his robe.
Fan Jianglin steadied his hat and looked up. Someone on horseback noticed and glanced back.
Their eyes met, and Fan Jianglin’s expression shifted slightly.
The horses sped past without stopping.
“Who are they? Why does it look like they’re taking their whole family along in such heavy rain?”
“It seems to be Master Gao. The Gao family is leaving the capital. A group of them already departed a few days ago.”
“So they’re really leaving this time?”
“No doubt about it! Chancellor Chen himself is keeping an eye on them, almost sending officers to escort them out.”
Passersby on the roadside pointed and murmured among themselves.
Fan Jianglin looked up at the departing carriages and horses. He noticed one of them seemed to glance back in his direction, so he lowered his gaze, pulled down his hat, and continued walking.
“Was that Fan Jianglin, the one who presented the Divine Arm Bow?” asked the Young Master Gao, turning to the person beside him as he withdrew his gaze.
The attendant looked back and nodded.
“That’s him,” he confirmed.
“Is that fellow still at the Imperial Armory?” Young Master Gao frowned. “Why hasn’t he been expelled? Such a crucial place – we can’t let him ruin things.”
“Don’t worry,” the attendant replied. “All along, he’s only been making weapons at the Arsenal. He has no involvement in other matters. Master has kept him under control. Once the military craftsmen have fully mastered his skills, we can dismiss him. The man really has no real capability of his own – all he knows are the techniques taught to him by that Lady Cheng.”
Young Master Gao nodded and asked no further. As they reached the city gate ahead, he urged his horse forward. A temporary pavilion had already been set up outside the gate, where quite a few people had gathered to see them off.
Young Master Gao dismounted and helped Gao Lingjun step down from a carriage behind them.
The crowd immediately closed in, cupping their hands in salute and offering their farewells.
“You are too kind, everyone. Today is merely to see off my wife and son – I truly do not deserve such a gesture,” Gao Lingjun replied with a smile, returning the courtesy.
His words left the crowd momentarily puzzled.
He isn’t leaving?
Nevertheless, everyone present reacted swiftly and began to speak accordingly.
“It’s a rainy day to be traveling – it needn’t be so urgent.”
“Yes, indeed.”
Gao Lingjun stroked his beard and laughed heartily.
“In all, I’ve been away from home for over twenty years now,” he said. “If one doesn’t speak of returning, it’s fine, but once the thought arises, it’s impossible to suppress that longing to go back. If it weren’t for my mother’s health, which still requires a few more days of recovery, I’d have left along with them right away.”
While they continued this light-hearted exchange, Young Master Gao was growing impatient nearby.
“Father, since it’s raining, let’s bid farewell here,” he urged, glancing up at the sky. “It looks like the rain may grow heavier.”
Gao Lingjun smiled and nodded in agreement.
“Travel safely,” he said.
Young Master Gao nodded in acknowledgment, mounted his horse, and prepared to depart.
“Indeed, be careful on your journey,” someone interjected, a thought suddenly occurring to him. “Oh, and it might be best not to pass through Qingyuan. I hear there’s been quite a lot of trouble recently with bandits and mounted robbers in that area.”
“Bandits and mounted robbers causing such disturbance?” Young Master Gao frowned. “Are the officials just sitting idly by?”
The farewell party couldn’t help but offer awkward, dry chuckles.
“Forget it, I’m not an official anymore. No need to trouble myself with such matters,” Young Master Gao then said with a slight hum, once again cupping his hands toward his father.
“Everyone means well,” Gao Lingjun remarked. “When traveling far, it’s best to be cautious.”
The crowd hastily nodded in agreement.
“Yes, yes, caution and prudence – safety comes first,” they echoed.
Young Master Gao raised his hand in a farewell gesture to all, then swung himself back onto his horse.
The convoy rode off under everyone’s watchful eyes, the rain now falling even heavier. Gao Lingjun bid the others farewell and stepped into his carriage.
“…But are the bandits really that severe?”
“…That’s what I’ve heard.”
“Is the world descending into chaos?”
“Shh! Don’t talk nonsense! Speaking of chaos at other times is one thing, but now? Who exactly are you implying with that comment?”
Gao Lingjun lowered the carriage curtain, shutting out the hushed whispers outside. A faint smile played on his lips.
“Let’s return,” he said.
…
“Gao Lingjun hasn’t left?” Chen Shao inquired.
“That’s correct. All his belongings have been moved, and his family members have set off on their journey. However, he himself has not left yet. It’s unclear what his plans are. He claims his mother still requires medical treatment and will need some time before he can depart,” the aide reported.
Chen Shao let out a cold laugh.
“What plans could he have? He’s likely still waiting and watching. I knew he wouldn’t give up and leave so easily,” he remarked.
“What should we do then? Who knows when his mother will recover,” the aide frowned. “Using the excuse of filial piety for his mother makes it difficult to force him out.”
“No matter. At the very least, he absolutely will not be able to re-enter the court. Once he’s made the gesture of leaving, it won’t be as easy for him to operate as before,” Chen Shao said, then sneered again. “Using his mother’s health as a curse day in and day out – he’s not afraid of facing retribution.”
He stopped speaking, and the room fell quiet. Outside, the sound of pouring rain grew even more distinct.
“The rain is getting heavier.”
Old Master Zhang stood under the eaves and spoke.
“Each autumn rain brings a deeper chill.”
“Old Master, please put on something warmer,” a maid behind him said, draping a cloak over his shoulders.
Old Master Zhang smiled and nodded.
The maid also looked out at the falling rain.
“I wonder if Miss has managed to avoid the rain,” she murmured, her voice already choked with emotion.
Old Master Zhang let out a soft chuckle.
“You’re worrying over nothing,” he said.
The maid felt a pang of frustration.
“Old Master!” she stamped her foot lightly. “Miss left in such haste that we couldn’t even see her off. Who knows if we’ll ever see her again…”
She covered her face and began to cry.
This time, Old Master Zhang didn’t make any teasing or sarcastic remarks as he usually would. After a few sobs, the maid couldn’t help but lower her sleeve and look at him.
Old Master Zhang watched the heavy rain in the courtyard, his expression as somber and heavy as the darkening sky.
The maid’s heart sank with a sudden thud, and unease spread instantly from deep within her.
…
On the official road, a convoy trudged wearily through the rain. Even with raincoats and bamboo hats, everyone’s clothes were already soaked through.
The ceremonial banners, plaques, and flags had long been put away, leaving the procession looking rather disheveled.
“This won’t do. The rain is only getting heavier – it looks like it won’t stop before dark,” Ban Qin said anxiously, lifting the carriage curtain. “Then we won’t make it to the next post station.”
Su Xin also leaned out to look.
“We might as well have rested at the last place,” she remarked. “But we insisted on pushing to the next one, and now we’re stuck – neither village nor inn in sight.”
As she spoke, she paused briefly and looked up at the sky.
Dark clouds loomed, and rain fell in steady sheets.
“Wait, that doesn’t seem right,” she couldn’t help saying, turning to Ban Qin. “Wouldn’t Madam have known it would rain?”
Ban Qin also froze.
Apart from Heaven itself, perhaps no one knew more clearly whether it would rain than their lady.
But this time, how could she…
The sound of rain striking the carriage roof grew dense and continuous, like strings of beads.
Cheng Jiao-niang watched as the book was taken from her hand, a flicker of resignation seeming to pass over her face.
“It’s too dark to see now. Don’t read anymore,” Duke Jin’an said. “Always reading – how dull.”
Cheng Jiao-niang looked at him.
“Play chess?” she asked.
Duke Jin’an quickly shook his head.
“It’s lonely at the top. It’s no fun if you always win,” he said with a laugh.
“Then what would you like to do?” Cheng Jiao-niang asked.
“Let’s talk,” Duke Jin’an said, moving closer to sit beside her. “This journey is going to take a long time.”
“Talk?” Cheng Jiao-niang repeated, then smiled slightly. “I’m truly not skilled at that.”
Duke Jin’an laughed and poked her shoulder.
“Not skilled?” he said with a grin. “Who left the Emperor speechless? Who drove Feng Lin out of the capital?”
Cheng Jiao-niang tilted slightly from his playful shove.
“It was because of themselves,” she said earnestly.
“The way you say things like that is the most amusing,” Duke Jin’an laughed, pulling her closer. “How could anyone who sees you like this think you’re stern or intimidating? Yet they call you some kind of yaksha or vajra.”
Cheng Jiao-niang let him hold her.
“Did you send the fireworks I asked you to deliver to the palace?” she asked.
Duke Jin’an rested his head on her shoulder and nodded.
“I sent them. I hope they can convey a small token of goodwill for Liu Ge’er on his wedding day,” he said.
Right up until he left the capital, he still hadn’t been able to see the Crown Prince. He hadn’t even been allowed past the palace gates.
The Li family had sent some fireworks, intended to be set off at their farewell, but they were stopped by Master Gu and other aides.
Leaving the capital was hardly a glorious occasion. Now that the Empress Dowager had finally agreed to let them depart, setting off fireworks risked provoking someone and causing trouble that might prevent them from leaving.
Cheng Jiao-niang had suggested giving them to the palace instead – to be set off in the evening as a celebration during the Crown Prince’s wedding. Duke Jin’an picked out a few, though sending them directly to the Crown Prince was impossible, so he had someone deliver them to the Empress instead.
“I wonder if they’ll be better than the ones on our wedding day,” he said with a laugh.
Cheng Jiao-niang fell silent.
The topic had turned somewhat somber. The Crown Prince’s wedding also meant Chen Dan-niang’s wedding. Duke Jin’an quickly rallied his spirits.
“Cheng Fang, I wonder what the residence in Songping is like,” he said, changing the subject, then shook his head. “It surely won’t be good. We’ll have to rebuild it once we’re there. What style do you prefer? Why not sketch it out on the road?”
Cheng Jiao-niang smiled faintly.
“No need,” she said.
Duke Jin’an reached out and took her hand, gently kneading her fingertips one by one.
“Then I’ll draw it. I’ve been thinking for a long time about how to arrange my own home,” he said.
Cheng Jiao-niang’s hands were slender, her nails neatly trimmed, unpainted and clean. As he massaged them, they gleamed with a shifting, soft radiance in the dim light of the carriage.
Duke Jin’an grew somewhat distracted.
“…It’s different there from the capital, and different from Jiang-zhou too. We’re sure to feel out of place at first,” he said.
“In time, we’ll grow accustomed to it,” Cheng Jiao-niang replied.
“Then have you grown accustomed to me?” Duke Jin’an murmured, his voice low and his lips nearly brushing her ear as he leaned closer.
His hand gradually tightened, no longer just kneading her fingertips but enveloping her whole hand.
Cheng Jiao-niang turned her head slightly, moving her ear away from his mouth.
“It’s raining. The carriage might not be able to keep moving without pause,” she said.
Duke Jin’an was taken aback for a moment, then burst into laughter. Looking into her bright eyes and crimson lips as she turned toward him, he wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her close against him.
“Why not? If I tell it to move, it moves,” he muttered, lowering his head to kiss her.
Bang, bang, bang! The carriage was knocked on sharply.
Duke Jin’an sprang up abruptly, bumping his head against the carriage roof with a solid thump.
Outside, Eunuch Jing was startled.
“Your Highness?” he asked urgently.
“What is it?” came the irritable voice from inside.
“It’s almost dark. We won’t make it to the next post station ahead. The imperial guards have just scouted and found a dilapidated temple nearby. Let’s rest there for the night and continue the journey tomorrow,” Eunuch Jing quickly explained, raising his voice.
The carriage door swung open.
“How far is it? Where exactly? Who went to check?” Duke Jin’an asked with a frown.
Eunuch Jing nodded. Though he thought Duke Jin’an’s expression looked somewhat odd, he replied first.
“Not far at all – about a mile. Don’t worry, Your Highness. Our people have already inspected it,” he said quietly.
Duke Jin’an nodded.
“Good,” he said.
The news that there was a place to stop ahead quickly spread, and the convoy picked up speed. The sounds of commotion and rain filtered into the carriage.
Inside, the atmosphere had grown somewhat stiff.
“There’s a place to rest up ahead,” Duke Jin’an said, a little awkwardly. “Traveling on the road is like this – you settle wherever you can.”
Cheng Jiao-niang smiled.
“Indeed,” she said.
It certainly was. She wasn’t unfamiliar with life on the road – they had first met in the wilderness, after all.
Duke Jin’an’s ears reddened slightly again.
“…Now I see why you brought so many supplies,” he remarked. “It turns out everything can be put to use.”
“That’s right,” Cheng Jiao-niang said once more.
No sooner had she spoken than a sudden surge of noise erupted outside, and the carriage jolted violently.
“What happened?” Duke Jin’an frowned, pulling open the carriage door to ask.
As soon as he leaned out, someone abruptly blocked the way, pushing him back inside.
“Your Highness, it’s bad – there’s an ambush ahead.”
