Yan Zhao gritted his teeth, lifting his chin defiantly. "Yes! If I make a single sound, I won’t bear the Yan name anymore!"
Chu Ruoyan covered her face, despairing over the way the Yan brothers interacted.
Yan Zheng nodded slowly. "Good. Wen Jing went to set off fireworks. Go bring him back."
Chu Ruoyan froze, about to praise Yan Zheng for finally going easy on his brother—until she noticed the sudden change in the two men’s expressions. Yan Zhao’s face turned ashen, his eyes wide with disbelief. "Y-you actually let him set off fireworks?!!"
Madam Li shuddered. "Oh no, oh no! I wondered why Wen Jing asked for the storeroom key earlier. This… this is bad!"
Chu Ruoyan was baffled when—BANG!—a deafening explosion erupted from outside.
It was followed by a furious roar that pierced the night: "Which bastard blew up my latrine?! Get out here!!!"
Chu Ruoyan: "…"
She turned slowly to Madam Li, who nodded in despair.
Then she looked at Yan Zhao. The man who had been brimming with confidence moments ago now hung his head like a defeated rooster. "Can I… pick a different punishment…?"
Yan Zheng cut him off. "A man keeps his word."
Yan Zhao closed his eyes, pulled out a mask, and put it on. "Second sister-in-law, if I don’t return by tomorrow, remember—"
Madam Li finished smoothly, "To fish you out from the authorities. I know."
The group then moved to the inner courtyard, where a charcoal fire was already burning. Meng Yang and Shadow were roasting sweet potatoes—though Shadow’s skills left much to be desired. The half-dozen potatoes skewered on his sword were all charred black.
"Go on, get out of here! Stick to your embroidery and stop wasting my food!"
Meng Yang shooed him away. Shadow, incensed, swept his sword through the air, sending a cloud of ash flying straight into Meng Yang’s face. The usually pale man was instantly covered in soot.
"HAHAHAHA!"
Steward Fang, who had been distributing New Year’s bonuses to the servants, and the servants themselves burst into laughter. Even Chu Ruoyan and Madam Li couldn’t hold back their giggles.
Spotting them, Steward Fang hurriedly bowed. "Chief Minister, Madam, Second Madam!"
The servants, who had been laughing heartily moments ago, fell silent, casting wary glances at Yan Zheng.
Chu Ruoyan frowned slightly. Then Yan Zheng waved dismissively. "Carry on. I’ll retire for the night."
The moment he left, the tension melted away, and laughter filled the air again.
Madam Li reassured her, "Third sister-in-law, don’t take it to heart. Third Brother has always preferred solitude. He rarely participates in such gatherings."
Chu Ruoyan murmured an acknowledgment but soon excused herself to follow him inside.
Hearing her enter, Yan Zheng turned, surprised. "Why not stay longer?"
Instead of answering, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his waist from behind. "Why won’t you stay with me longer?"
Yan Zheng chuckled. "They’re more at ease when I’m not there."
"So you’ve spent every New Year’s Eve alone like this?"
"Not entirely alone. In the past, he would…" At the mention of his elder brother, a shadow of pain flickered across Yan Zheng’s face.
It was a wound he had been avoiding these past few days—yet how could he escape it? The Yan Mansion was filled with memories of them.
The training grounds, their weapons, the pine tree they used to climb together by the gate…
Like a blunt knife slowly carving into flesh, the pain crept in. He clenched his fists, struggling to keep his emotions in check.
Then, a soft hand slipped into his.
"Come with me!"
She led him out of the mansion, refusing a carriage and taking the reins herself.
Under the cover of night, they left the capital. The city guards, recognizing the Chief Minister’s token, let them pass without question.
Their destination: Huguo Temple in the outskirts.
The cold moonlight bathed the hillside cemetery in an eerie glow. Yan Zheng’s voice was hoarse as he stared at the rows of fresh graves. "Why bring me here?"
Chu Ruoyan didn’t answer. Instead, she guided him to Yan Xun’s tombstone.
"I’ve been your wife for so long, yet you’ve never introduced me to your brother and sister-in-law."
Something in her words struck a chord. The man suddenly dropped to his knees, pressing his forehead against the cold stone.
—Tomb of Yan Xun. Erected by his younger brother, Yan Zheng.
Chu Ruoyan studied the inscription. Among all the tombstones, only this one bore characters carved with deliberate precision—still stained with traces of dark red.
Yan Zheng’s blood.
From when he had painstakingly engraved each stroke, his hands bleeding.
"Elder Brother, Sister-in-Law, your younger sister-in-law, Chu Ruoyan, is honored to be Third Brother’s wife. From this day forward, we share joy and sorrow as one. May you rest in peace, knowing he is well."
She knelt and kowtowed three times.
Yan Zheng’s voice was rough. "A-Yan, come closer. Let them see you clearly."
She shuffled forward on her knees. Suddenly, his hand clamped around her wrist, his grip almost painful.
"I have become the sword you gifted me, now sheathed. Henceforth, we face storms together. Rest easy. When the day comes that I recover your remains, you and Sister-in-Law shall lie side by side."
With that, he drew his sword and plunged it into the earth before the tombstone.
A breeze seemed to stir, circling him thrice before drifting away.
The weight Yan Zheng had carried for days lifted at last. He leaned back against the tombstone, pulling Chu Ruoyan down beside him.
She gasped softly but didn’t resist.
"Don’t worry. Yan Xun never cared for rules. Even in death, he’d still think the heavens bowed to him."
This was the first time he had spoken of the past without restraint.
Chu Ruoyan relaxed slightly. "What was Elder Brother Yan like?"
"A… scoundrel." Yan Zheng’s lips curled, though his voice was thick. "A self-righteous scoundrel who loved playing the hero. He thought everyone should live under his protection forever. We fought over it constantly."
"You fought?"
"All men fight. I always won—but I knew he let me." Yan Zheng paused. "Yet for all his arrogance, the day he met Sister-in-Law, he was so nervous he could barely speak. I mocked him for having no spine. He said, ‘Only spineless men get wives.’"
Chu Ruoyan laughed. "So your shamelessness is all thanks to Elder Brother Yan?"
"He corrupted me. But it’s thanks to that corruption I have you." Yan Zheng turned to her, his gaze tender.
Flustered, she changed the subject. "What about Wen Jing? What’s the story with the fireworks?"
Yan Zheng smirked. "Also Yan Xun’s doing. Climbing trees for bird eggs, diving for shrimp—there was nothing he couldn’t do. Wen Jing just… improved on it. Three years ago, he blew up the hair and eyebrows of Second and Third Uncle’s sons for insulting me. The year after, he tossed firecrackers into Left Assistant Minister’s bath, sending him and his secret mistress running out naked. The commotion lasted all night. So last year, we banned him from fireworks."
Chu Ruoyan burst out laughing. "I never would’ve guessed Wen Jing was such a troublemaker."
"After Yan Xun died, he grew up overnight. Stopped causing trouble… until you came along and brought back some of his childishness." Yan Zheng leaned closer, his eyes locked onto hers. "A-Yan, thank you."
In the depths of his dark gaze, she saw only her reflection.
Her heart skipped two beats—until a mocking voice cut through the moment.
"New Year’s Eve grave visits, lovers’ whispers… The Chief Minister and County Princess Changle certainly know how to set the mood. But tell me, do you still remember me?"
The two turned around and saw Song Jia standing not far away, flanked by a group of men clad in black.
Chu Ruoyan steadied herself with Yan Zheng's support as she rose to her feet, her expression one of surprise. "Don’t any of you celebrate the New Year?"
Song Jia stiffened for a moment before bowing slightly. "I’ve been ordered to escort the County Princess Changle with us. Would you prefer to come willingly, or shall we... persuade you?"
