Chapter 77

Chapter 77

The next morning, dark clouds hung low, and a thin layer of snow lay untouched on the roadside. Since the beginning of winter, every snowfall had been as fleeting as today’s, barely dusting the ground. Everyone rose without paying it much mind, and even Pei Ze, upon learning it had snowed, showed no particular interest.

It was just snow—nothing special, just another ordinary day.

Instead, he was far more curious about whether his efforts last night to "wish" his uncle over had worked. After breakfast, he kept craning his neck to look outside.

Since he often did this while waiting for Ming Tang, Mrs. Pei didn’t find it unusual. It wasn’t until she noticed his constant head-turning that she grew slightly puzzled.

Just as she was about to ask, a voice announced from outside. Pei Ze’s eyes lit up, and he slid off his stool in a flash, darting to the doorway.

The curtain lifted, and Ming Tang stepped in first, untying her cloak and handing it to a maid. The cloak was so large that she nearly tripped over Pei Ze, who was curled up in a tiny ball on the floor.

Seeing it was Ming Tang, Pei Ze heaved a long, dramatic sigh of disappointment, his little face the picture of dejection as he shot her a reproachful look.

Before he could speak, another figure entered. Pei Ze’s expression instantly brightened, and he called out brightly, "Uncle! Mother!"

Pei Ze was his usual self, but Pei Yue, recalling last night’s events, still felt a lingering resentment. He bent down, scooped Pei Ze up and tucked him under his arm, and carried him over to Mrs. Pei.

Though the position was uncomfortable, Pei Ze, thinking it was a game, showed no reluctance. Beaming from ear to ear, he proudly declared, "A Ze wished Uncle here!"

When Pei Yue set him down, Pei Ze clung to his side, unwilling to let go, hoping for another round.

His earnest gaze made it clear he genuinely wanted to play again. Pei Yue, confirming this, immediately refused. Ignoring Pei Ze’s pout, he turned to Mrs. Pei and suggested, "Once spring arrives, we should find a tutor to begin A Ze’s education."

Families like theirs didn’t need their children to endure the hardships of scholarly pursuits or sit for imperial exams. But history had shown how easily generations of accumulated wealth could be squandered by incompetent heirs. Starting Pei Ze’s education wasn’t about forcing him to study now—it was about giving him structure to rein in his wild tendencies.

Even if Pei Ze turned out to lack talent, a peaceful life as a well-behaved Peaceful Duke would be a fine outcome.

This was a serious matter. Mrs. Pei had already considered it, so she nodded in agreement. "That shouldn’t be difficult."

Unaware that his carefree preschool days were numbered, Pei Ze, realizing his uncle wouldn’t play with him, swiftly switched targets. He tugged at Ming Tang’s sleeve, begging to go outside.

The light snow had left a chill in the air, but it wasn’t biting. Ming Tang, also eager for a stroll, had him bundled in warm clothes before they headed to the rear garden with their entourage.

There, a few plum blossoms bloomed beautifully, their faint fragrance lingering in the air, refreshing the spirit.

Pei Ze perked up immediately. Once set down, he went romping about the garden in high spirits.

With Pei Yue’s arrival, the family gathered for a hot pot dinner in the main courtyard that evening.

Perhaps exhausted from the day’s play, Pei Ze began nodding off mid-meal. His head bobbed like a buoy, and his spoon slipped from his hand into the bowl with a clatter.

Strangely, he seemed unaware of his drowsiness. Startled by the noise, he shook his head awake and, without missing a beat, resumed eating, oblivious to the fact that he had become the center of attention.

Mrs. Pei, suppressing laughter, sighed. "How did he get so tired?" She waved for someone to take him to bed.

"Perhaps it’s the thick clothes, combined with playing in the garden earlier. The stuffy indoor warmth must have made him sleepy," Nanny Zhou explained as she lifted Pei Ze and curtsied.

Mrs. Pei nodded.

After dinner, Ming Tang and Pei Yue strolled side by side along the flagstone path. At a fork in the road, Ming Tang paused, cleared her throat, and said with feigned seriousness, "Would the heir care to bathe with me?"

Her expression suggested she was discussing something entirely proper.

Pei Yue hesitated, but before he could answer, Ming Tang took his hand, her fingers tracing his palm as her eyes sparkled with mischief. "Consider it... compensation for being left to your lonely bed these past days?"

She hadn’t missed the meaning behind his sudden visit on his day off, nor the look in his eyes when they parted last time.

Though unsure if her feelings matched his, she was willing to tentatively respond.

Pei Yue clasped her hand firmly, equally solemn. "Then I’ll gladly accept."

That night, both found their satisfaction. Under the warm water, Ming Tang’s fingers traced Pei Yue’s firm musculature, and in her drowsy satisfaction, she thought only one thing: *The ancients were right about hot springs polishing jade-like skin.*

The only flaw was the journey back. Snowflakes drifted down, rousing Ming Tang from the verge of sleep with their chill.

Being carried while half-asleep was one thing, but fully conscious? Ming Tang wasn’t quite that bold yet. She tapped his shoulder and slipped down, walking beside him instead.

As the winter fragrance drifted by, Pei Yue, now empty-handed, felt a twinge of regret—until their fingers intertwined.

Ming Tang tilted her head, watching the snow. She caught a flake in her palm, where it melted instantly into a glistening droplet. "Looks like we might get a heavy snowfall."

The month’s end brought no stars or moon, only the faint glow of lanterns casting their elongated shadows on the walls, sometimes merging together, soft and tender.

The path back was short, but neither hurried despite the snow. By the time they reached their quarters, their hair was dusted white.

The couple thought nothing of it, but the maids fluttered about, fetching ginger tea and sighing in relief once both had drunk it.

As they tidied up, Hong Ying wondered why the usually composed young mistress and heir had suddenly acted so childishly. Wen He, however, smiled knowingly, smoothing things over. "The snow makes the path slippery—it’s natural to walk slowly. Thankfully, the young mistress and heir are healthy and unlikely to catch cold."

Though with snow this heavy, it’d be wise to prepare thicker clothes for tomorrow.

The next morning, the courtyard was blanketed in thick snow—a crystalline wonderland. Ming Tang woke to snow-light filtering through the paper windows, a cold glow, the chill seeping in before she even rose.

By the time she stepped outside, only the cleared paths broke the pristine white expanse, revealing the original color of the road beneath.

In the main courtyard, Pei Ze—who’d previously scoffed at snowfall—had completely changed his tune. When Ming Tang arrived, he was pressed against the window, utterly absorbed in watching something outside through the frosted window paper, unaware of her presence.

Curious, Ming Tang quietly joined him. After a moment, she spotted a small black shape moving slowly across the white landscape.

Closer inspection revealed it was the kitten—now a well-traveled cat—that Pei Ze had insisted on bringing.

Originally glossy jet-black with white paws, the kitten had been pampered in Cheng Yi Hall and Jing Hua Hall, its fur now sleek. As it trotted through the snow, its white paws sank in, making it resemble a drifting cloud—living up to its name, *Black Snow Treader*.

After leaving a trail of tiny paw prints shaped like plum blossoms, the kitten finally had enough of the cold. It nudged aside the door curtain, shaking off a snowfall's worth of flakes, and daintily hopped onto the couch, rubbing against Pei Ze’s leg.

Pei Ze sat back, petting the kitten while gazing imploringly at Mrs. Pei.

Mrs. Pei, who’d initially refused, couldn’t withstand his puppy-dog eyes—especially when he mimicked the kitten, nuzzling her. Her resolve melted, and she set a firm limit: "Only for the time it takes to drink a cup of tea, alright?"

Pei Ze, thrilled at the permission, agreed instantly. "Okay~"

Mrs. Pei nodded, and the maids bundled him in a thick cloak, hat, and gloves before carrying him outside.

The snow was soft, and Pei Ze, bundled like a dumpling, wobbled unsteadily at first. He froze mid-step, legs splayed, until he regained balance, then cautiously brought his other foot forward.

Watching him revert to toddler-like steps, even Mrs. Pei—who’d been discussing household matters—couldn’t resist stepping out to observe.

Pei Ze, however, had a mission. Once steady, he followed the kitten’s paw prints, squatting to confirm they matched before nodding in satisfaction.

Then, rising, he carefully placed his own footprints beside them. Turning back, he admired the two trails of footprints—one large, one small—before tugging Ming Tang’s sleeve. "Look, Mother!"

Ming Tang was genuinely surprised. Against all odds, Pei Ze’s footprints *were* perfectly aligned with the kitten’s.

Glancing at his rotund, bundled form, she couldn’t quite believe he’d managed such perfectly measured steps.

However, this was actually a good thing. When she had previously played with Pei Ze, who was still learning to talk, with basic reading materials like the *Three Character Classic* and *Thousand Character Classic*, she had noticed his impressive memory. Now, it seemed he had great balance too.

With talent in both areas, whoever ended up teaching Pei Ze would have an easy time.

As she watched Pei Ze, her thoughts unexpectedly drifted to Pei Yue. When he was young, had he also walked step by step in the snow, wobbling but staying steady, just like Pei Ze?

Pei Ze soon noticed Ming Tang’s distraction and tugged at her skirt, displeased. "Mama, you’re not watching!"

Ming Tang snapped back to reality and offered a sincere apology. To make amends, she suggested, "How about I build a snowman with you?"

Pei Ze had never seen a snowman before. He nodded eagerly as Ming Tang, along with a few maids, began rolling a large snowball, then started on another.

Just as he was engrossed in watching, Nanny Zhou bowed apologetically and stepped forward, picking him up. "Young Master, your time’s up. You must return indoors now."

Pei Ze pouted and turned to look at his grandmother. Mrs. Pei, who had set the time limit, gave him a firm, no-nonsense look. Seeing this, he then turned to Ming Tang, who, as a neutral party, watched with barely hidden amusement.

He didn’t know the word "schadenfreude," but Pei Ze instinctively grasped its essence.

In any case, one glance confirmed that his aunt wouldn’t speak up for him either. Defeated, Pei Ze held out his arms and let Nanny Zhou carry him back inside.

But children, it seemed, had their own clever ways.

Once indoors, Pei Ze immediately had someone bring a small stool to be placed behind the threshold. Sitting on it, he lifted a corner of the door curtain and peered outside through the gap.

When he caught Ming Tang’s eye, he flashed her a big, cheeky grin.

Ming Tang, who had been rolling snowballs with Wen He and the others and reminiscing about her childhood, suddenly felt an inexplicable urge to stop.

Pausing, she watched as Wen He placed the smaller snowball atop the larger one. Ming Tang removed her gloves, blew on her hands, and rubbed them together.

"Cold hands?" Pei Yue’s voice suddenly sounded.

Then, her hands were enveloped in his, his wide sleeves draping over their joined hands, shielding them from the chill.

Ming Tang turned to look at him. Today, Pei Yue was unusually dressed in loose robes with wide sleeves, his hair not entirely tied up. Compared to his usual fitted attire, he looked less crisp and put-together—no longer showcasing his lithe figure—but instead exuded the carefree elegance of a nobleman, carrying an air of effortless charm.

Pei Yue had something to discuss with Mrs. Pei, so he naturally led Ming Tang in her direction.

Ming Tang followed half a step behind, matching his pace, her thoughts a tangled mess. In summary, they could be condensed into one question:

Since when did Pei Yue dress this well?