Chapter 112

Chapter 112

The morning light grew brighter, illuminating a young couple whose profound affection was evident to all. They embraced and kissed, the woman almost lifted off her feet by her husband, her toes barely touching the ground, her entire being clinging to him—a vivid embodiment of inseparable intimacy.

Under the eaves, Mrs. Pei, stepping out at the sound of their movements, witnessed the scene. She shook her head with a soft chuckle, then glanced down at A Ze, whose eyes were wide with astonishment, and gently covered them with her hand.

Many unseen matters had been settled, and now, in this tranquil moment, Ming Tang was almost lost in its embrace. But a sudden thought flashed through her mind: how many people were watching them, including A Ze? Her cheeks burned, and she immediately pulled away. "A Ze is watching."

A Ze, though his eyes were covered, found his hearing sharpened. Hearing his name, he immediately chimed in, "A Ze didn’t see you kissing! Don’t you dare accuse me!"

Laughter rippled through the courtyard. Pei Yue stepped forward, scooped A Ze into his arms, and tossed him high into the air, his voice soaring. "A reward for A Ze not peeking."

A Ze, still enamored with this game, pestered Pei Yue until he was thoroughly satisfied. Only then did he take the hands of both elders, leading them to Mrs. Pei for breakfast.

After the harrowing night, the kitchen served a rather simple breakfast. This wasn't due to a lack of effort, but because the firewood stored in the villa had been almost entirely consumed the previous night. For breakfast, they had to choose dishes that could be prepared quickly; things like congee or slow-simmered soups were out of the question.

Fortunately, the simplicity of the meal was not criticized by the masters. Once everyone had confirmed each other's safety, Mrs. Pei and Ming Tang were in a better frame of mind to handle the aftermath. In essence, everyone received a red envelope as thanks for not fleeing during the chaos of the previous night, but instead standing firmly with the Pei family despite the uncertain circumstances. Those who had been honorably wounded naturally received an additional share.

Having survived the ordeal and now receiving rewards, the villa was soon filled with a joyful atmosphere.

Only Ming Tang seemed slightly troubled. "That courtyard where people died—it’s really not suitable to live in anymore. Thankfully, there are other rooms, but I truly loved that bed canopy. Now I’ll have to store it away or burn it."

She had specifically chosen the canopy for its elegant, ethereal colors that complemented the autumn scenery. Now, half of it was stained with blood, rendering it utterly unusable.

It was only then that Pei Yue remembered he hadn't yet asked Ming Tang about her feelings the previous night. Although he had heard the account, hearing it from the person involved was always different.

Ming Tang could hardly recall her feelings at the time. When Pei Yue asked, she paused her inventory, frowned in thought for a moment, and then said, "At that moment, I truly had no other thoughts. I only thought that if they didn't die, then I would have to. Comparatively, their death was much more acceptable to me."

Because the bodies had been removed, Ming Tang didn't fully grasp the reality of having killed someone. She only remembered shooting several people in the dark room with her crossbow, and her aim had been quite good.

Pei Yue’s slightly furrowed brow relaxed, and he shook his head with a soft sigh before pulling Ming Tang into another tight embrace, murmuring, "We truly are a match made in heaven. No one else would be like you."

Ming Tang laughed. "And no one else would teach me to use a crossbow." The soreness in her arms was a small price for the ability to protect herself—a trade she’d never found more worthwhile.

After a busy day, Ming Tang settled into her new quarters that night, thinking they could finally enjoy the imperial hunting lodge for a couple of days. But then came the emperor’s imperial decree: they were to return to the capital the next day.

Seeing Ming Tang’s disappointment, Pei Yue acted swiftly, taking the family out for a day of hunting. They returned at dusk with a dozen or so game animals in tow.

Having been at the center of the storm the night before, the family now relaxed, knowing more than others about what had transpired. Those who had glimpsed the flames or heard the clashing weapons near the Pei villa the previous night were both shocked and itching for answers—how could this family, after such an ordeal, go out for leisure as if nothing had happened? Truly, like family, like minds.

But the Pei family wasn’t one to indulge curiosity. Otherwise, many would have come knocking for details.

The emperor, however, seemed determined not to leave room for speculation. Even before returning to the capital, imperial decrees were issued one after another: first, the Prince of Jin was placed under house arrest; then, the Prince of Chu was demoted to a secondary prince and stripped of his duties in the Ministry of Revenue. These decrees left many reeling, scrambling to align themselves with the rising stars—the Prince of Yan and the Prince of Ping.

But the Prince of Yan rarely received visitors, and the Prince of Ping, though accepting gifts, refused audiences. Before the procession even reached the capital, the Prince of Ping’s carriage was nearly overflowing with presents, forcing him to consider borrowing another cart.

As they neared the capital, another imperial decree cut short the Prince of Ping’s gift-receiving spree: the emperor conferred the title of Little Princess upon the Prince of Yan’s youngest daughter.

Since the Little Princess was still in the palace with the empress, her father accepted the decree on her behalf. When he emerged holding the imperial edict, many mistook it for a decree naming the crown prince. It was as if they were only now noticing the Prince of Yan’s imposing presence—so awe-inspiring it seemed to radiate imperial majesty. Whispers began about how to forge connections with him.

It was then that some realized: the Duke of Dingguo’s household had once again beaten them to it. Watching the two children of similar age bid each other farewell, the older one soon joining the Princess Consort of Yan’s carriage, many regretted not bringing their own grandchildren along.

At least that would’ve been an excuse.

Those in the procession lamented their missed chances to get closer to the Prince of Yan before returning to the capital, unaware that those already in the capital were desperate for news. What had happened at the autumn hunt to turn the world upside down in just one trip outside the city?

The factions of the Princes of Jin and Chu were crestfallen, their deeper affiliates trembling in fear. The Wu family, who had one foot in the Prince of Chu’s camp, received the news with mixed reactions. While General Wu’s thoughts were unclear, Mrs. Wu and her eldest daughter were overjoyed.

Previously, they’d held back because of the Prince of Chu’s inexplicable favor toward Chen Wenyao. But now that the Prince of Chu was demoted, what did they have to fear? Mrs. Wu immediately sent people to the Chen residence to reclaim their people and belongings, making no effort to shield Chen Wenyao from gossip.

This news delighted the common folk of the capital far more than speculation about the emperor’s heir. Within two days of the Wu family retrieving their dowry, rumors spread like wildfire: how Chen Wenyao had been duped by a courtesan into raising a bastard child as his own, how he’d driven away two wives, and so on.

The gossip often ended with knowing chuckles and feigned pity: "What can you do? An impotent man needs someone to care for him in old age. Pity those noble-born ladies tricked into marriage."

The rumors reached even Mrs. Chen, who seldom left home. She refused to believe them—until she found herself gripping the chin of the child in the nursemaid’s arms, scrutinizing his face so hard her fingers left deep, finger-shaped bruises.

How the Chen family fell in the span of a single night, how Chen Wenyao was consumed by remorse—Ming Tang neither knew nor cared. The past was like dust, long scattered from her mind.

Her only concern now was deciding what to bring to Shaanxi province. Opening the storeroom to pack had revealed a trove of belongings: trinkets, jewelry, assorted gems, and curiosities she’d collected on whims. The sheer volume was an overwhelming assortment.

She often paused to admire items, torn between what to take. While Mrs. Pei had finalized her list, Ming Tang had barely started.

Taking everything was impractical, but she might not return for years—what if she needed something later?

After days of watching Ming Tang agonize, Pei Yue finally coaxed out the reason and nearly laughed in exasperated amusement. Tossing aside the item in her hands, he swept her up bridal-style. "If we’re missing anything, we’ll buy it there. All this fuss over nothing—you haven’t given me your full attention these past few days." So much wasted time.

Sinking into the soft bedding, Ming Tang watched Pei Yue shrug off his outer robe and suddenly burst into laughter, unable to stop until he closed the distance between them, her giggles melting into other sounds.

The next day, without Ming Tang’s meddling, packing progressed swiftly. Wen He directed the process with the efficiency of a seasoned steward.

Watching Wen He take charge, Zhe Liu felt both proud and wistful. "Are you sure you don’t want me to come?" Though she’d gradually shifted from Ming Tang’s personal attendant to managing her shops, they’d still been in the same city, able to meet anytime. After hearing about the events at Phoenix Ridge, Zhe Liu deeply regretted not going. Useless or not, at least she’d have been there.

Now, they’d be separated by an unimaginable distance, making visits nearly impossible.

"Listen, if you come with me, who will manage my businesses? I’ll be too far away to manage them—you’ll have to safeguard my assets. If things ever go south with my husband, I’ll need you as my fallback." Though reluctant, Ming Tang knew Zhe Liu’s talents were better utilized in the capital. Seeing her develop into a shrewd businesswoman, Ming Tang couldn’t ask her to return to being a mere maid.

Hearing this, Zhe Liu stopped protesting and listened as Ming Tang detailed the shops’ affairs. Finally, Ming Tang added, "If you hit a snag, go to my father and mother. Sometimes, you need to wave their authority when necessary."

Zhe Liu nodded firmly, recalling their last visit to the Ming household. Ming Tang, tears in her eyes, had pulled her forward and told her mother, "She’s reliable and will handle my affairs in the capital. If she comes to you, it’s serious—don’t turn her away just because you’re upset I’ve left."

Now, Zhe Liu’s eyes welled up as she nodded. "Don’t worry, miss. If I’m ever unsure, I’ll go straight to your parents."

Pei Yue had always held the rank of Commander-in-Chief, but his grand return to the capital and his inclusion in the imperial hunt had led many to assume he’d stay, likely reassigned to the Imperial Guards.

Thus, the Pei family bid lengthy farewells to friends and relatives before setting off. Only when their procession stretched longer than a casual outing did onlookers realize: was Pei Yue leaving the capital again?

As rumors spread and those eager to connect with Pei Yue rushed to the city gates, the procession moved steadily onward.

Goodbyes had been said countless times. Some of A Ze’s classmates’ families, learning the Peis would take them along and help them settle, immediately agreed and joined the caravan. Only Mu Qing, whose sister was on the verge of becoming the crown prince's consort and thus couldn’t leave the capital, was on the verge of tears. He perked up only after A Ze and his friends promised to write regularly.

With preparations complete, the procession moved without pause. Only when they were far from the capital did Ming Tang lift the carriage curtain for one last look.

Mrs. Pei also gazed back, her feelings complex. "I once thought I’d live out my days in the capital."

"Never imagined you’d get a change of scenery and mood?" Ming Tang quipped.

Mrs. Pei smiled. "No, I never thought I’d follow Yue to his post." It spoke to the emperor and the Prince of Yan’s magnanimity—a more suspicious ruler would never let a frontier garrison commander take his whole family.

Outside, A Ze, riding together with Pei Yue, poked his head through the window. "I see you this time!" Unlike before, when he couldn’t even reach the window.

Pei Yue, deadpan, covered A Ze’s face with his hand and leaned in to show off his own handsome visage, as if to say, *I’m the better view.*

A Ze, robbed of his sight, squirmed until subdued. Their laughter drew his pony, which trotted over, curious.

The sudden appearance of the pony startled Pei Yue, who then ruffled A Ze’s hair and burst into hearty laughter. A Ze joined in, especially at the pony’s bewildered expression.

Inside the carriage, Mrs. Pei and Ming Tang watched them, smiles of their own blooming.

The laughter was so loud it seemed to reach the heavens. High above, a flock of geese flew in a V formation, their wings brushing wisps of clouds as they left the cooling north behind—along with the triumphs and tragedies unfolding below.

Winging their way toward the distant, warm south, and toward futures unknown, they flew on.