After three months apart, when Xiao Zheng saw Xiao Huan again, she couldn't help but pause in surprise. The person before her seemed entirely changed—gone was the youthful immaturity she remembered. Instead, his brow and the corners of his eyes bore traces of hardship, his gaze sharp and cold as an unsheathed blade, his entire demeanor radiating a chilling intensity.
Only when his eyes landed on Xiao Zheng did the corners of his lips twitch into a stiff smile.
Recalling their last unpleasant parting, Li Tie watched Xiao Huan warily, as if fearing he might pose a threat to Xiao Zheng.
"You may leave us," Xiao Huan said, glancing at Li Tie and waving him off.
Li Tie couldn’t shake the feeling that Young Master Xiao Huan had become somewhat unhinged. Given the Xiao family’s influence and the general’s leniency toward him, Li Tie hesitated before finally voicing his concern.
"General, we’ll be right outside the door. If you need anything, just call for us."
With that, he cast one last deep look at Xiao Huan before leading the others out.
Xiao Huan lifted his gaze.
"I apologize for missing your coming-of-age ceremony."
Xiao Zheng poured him a cup of tea, sliding it gently across the table before lifting her eyes to gaze calmly into the distance.
"It’s nothing. Don’t trouble yourself over it. I wasn’t expecting you today, so this is all I have to offer—just some plain tea. Funny, you never liked tea as a child, always preferring that red bean soup from the shop near West Street. Pity the owner closed up and fled to the countryside during the war. Has the shop reopened since?"
Xiao Huan’s fingers twitched at the mention of the past, the heat from the teacup startling him back to the present. He shook his head.
"No. I heard the owner ran into Tatars while hiding in the countryside. The shop’s still there, but it’s not the same—new owner, new goods, all mountain produce. No more red bean soup."
Xiao Zheng sighed softly.
"What a shame."
As Xiao Huan studied the woman before him—her armor lending her an air of authority—his heart felt torn between two voices.
One, urgent and certain: "Just ask her outright! You grew up together, as close as siblings. How could she deceive you?"
The other, cold and resolute: "Hearsay means nothing! You need proof! Do you want revenge or not? Don’t alert her! If she suspects anything, all your efforts will be wasted!"
Crack.
The cup in Xiao Huan’s hand shattered, shards scattering as tea dripped from his fingers onto the floor.
"Are you all right? How could you be so careless?" Xiao Zheng hurried over, her voice laced with worry. "Did you cut yourself?"
Xiao Huan glanced down at his palm, where blood was slowly welling up. He barely seemed to feel the pain, only frowning slightly before replying flatly, "It’s nothing. Just a scratch."
"You’re bleeding. Hold still."
Xiao Zheng swiftly pulled a plain handkerchief from her sleeve, pressing it firmly against the wound. The edges of the cloth had yellowed with age, but in the lower right corner, a tiny bow and arrow had been embroidered with delicate thread, lending it an air of rustic elegance.
Xiao Huan’s gaze dropped to the familiar embroidery, his heart skipping a beat.
Unaware of his reaction, Xiao Zheng continued tending to him before striding to a corner of the room and returning with a well-polished but clearly aged medicine box.
She deftly opened it, retrieving a small packet of hemostatic powder and sprinkling it carefully over the wound. Just as she reached for a bandage, Xiao Huan stopped her.
Forcing a careless smile, he waved her off.
"It’s just a small cut. No need to fuss. I’ll hold it tight, and it’ll stop on its own."
Taking the handkerchief from her, he pressed it back onto the wound, applying pressure as if to steady the turmoil inside him.
Xiao Zheng hesitated, then nodded. "The cut isn’t large, but it’s deep. Make sure to change the dressing later."
Xiao Huan’s voice was hoarse as he replied, "I will. Sorry about the handkerchief. The blood might not wash out."
A flicker of sorrow passed through Xiao Zheng’s eyes before she sighed. "It’s fine. I’ll keep it regardless. Aunt Lan embroidered several for me back then, but after all these years, this is the only one left. Don’t you dare throw it away."
Xiao Huan nodded, then suddenly remarked, as if struck by a thought,
"By the way, guess who I ran into in Shuozhou."
Without waiting for her response, he continued,
"It was Old Zhang, one of Grandfather’s old grooms. I don’t know what horrors he endured—his left leg was broken, and his mind seemed gone. He didn’t recognize anyone, just kept crying and repeating the word ‘reinforcements’ whenever Grandfather was mentioned. Nothing else made sense. When I found him, he was like a wild man, gnawing on grass. I couldn’t leave him there, so I brought him back to the capital. At the very least, he deserves a chance to live."
Xiao Zheng’s eyes widened in shock before her expression darkened with anger.
"How could this happen? Those damned Tatars! The battle was so chaotic back then, we lost track of him. I never imagined he’d survived. You did the right thing bringing him here. As one of Grandfather’s men, he deserves our care. It’s the least we can do to honor Grandfather’s memory."
Before they could speak further, hurried footsteps echoed outside, followed by a servant’s crisp announcement:
"General, Miss Lin is at the gate requesting an audience."
At once, Xiao Huan stood, straightening his robes as he clasped his hands in farewell.
"Since Ruyi’s come looking for me, it must be urgent. I’ll take my leave now. I’ll return the handkerchief once it’s cleaned."
Xiao Zheng didn’t press him to stay. A faint smile touched her lips as she nodded.
"Very well. We’ll talk again soon."
She personally escorted him to the gate, where Lin Ruyi stood waiting. The moment Lin Ruyi spotted Xiao Zheng, her expression turned hostile, but when her eyes landed on Xiao Huan’s injured hand, her face paled. She stepped protectively in front of him.
"Your hand—what happened? Did she hurt you?"
Xiao Huan quickly patted her shoulder with his uninjured hand, his voice low and placating.
"Don’t jump to conclusions. It was an accident. Nothing to do with anyone else."
With an apologetic nod to Xiao Zheng, he led Lin Ruyi away.
As their figures disappeared, Zhang Hu emerged from seemingly nowhere.
"Did he come to confront you again? Two months in Shuozhou—wonder what treasures the old emperor gave him this time."
Xiao Zheng shook her head, chuckling softly.
"He’s improved. This time, he tried a subtler approach."
Evidence, after all, was nothing more than witnesses and objects. What else could there be?
