After the Mid-Autumn Festival, Zhu Qingyu picked a day when the clinic was closed, and went with Zhang Shen to the government office to formalize their divorce.
In theory, the divorce process was simple enough—submit the signed and sealed divorce agreement to the government office, where the registrar would verify the documents, stamp them with the official seal, and then update the household registration accordingly.
That was the theory. But when the registrar saw that the two people filing for divorce were both officials in formal robes—Lord Zhu in a third-rank crimson robe embroidered with peacocks, and Lord Zhang in a fifth-rank blue-green robe embroidered with silver pheasants—standing there before him, he trembled so much he couldn't even set brush to paper. He hurriedly summoned Lord Zhuang instead.
Lord Zhuang reviewed both documents but didn't try to persuade them much. He simply asked the two of them:
"Are you certain? You don't want to reconsider?"
Zhu Qingyu didn't answer first. She looked at Zhang Shen, waiting for him to respond first.
Zhang Shen stared at the divorce agreement in Lord Zhuang's hand, his heart clenching with pain again.
If he wanted to back out, this was his last chance.
He looked at Zhu Qingyu. She didn't rush him, waiting calmly for him to make his decision.
If he changed his mind now, Zhang Shen believed she wouldn't force him to go through with the divorce. She wouldn't even argue with him—she would simply leave quietly.
But this time, if she left, it would be forever.
If he backed out, clinging to this earthly marriage, he would lose her forever.
Only by letting go could he earn her sympathy.
Zhang Shen's heart ached, but a smile rose to his face as he replied:
"I'm certain."
Zhang Shen nodded, and only then did Zhu Qingyu say:
"I'm certain."
Lord Zhuang took the official seal and pressed it onto the divorce agreement, sighing:
"Matters of marriage cannot be forced. A clean parting, each going their separate ways, is not necessarily a bad thing. Now that you're divorced, Lord Zhu, where will your household registration go?"
Usually, after a divorce, the woman's registration would return to her natal family. But Zhu Qingyu's parents weren't here, and there was no such place for her to go, so she considered asking Lord Zhuang whether, as a government official, she could establish a separate household on her own.
Zhang Shen spoke up first:
"Qingyu, since we're still family, why not keep your registration with the Zhang household?"
Zhu Qingyu laughed:
"Keep it with the Zhang household? Then wouldn't you become my natal family?"
It was just a joke, but Zhang Shen looked utterly serious:
"Yes. From now on, you can call me cousin. I'll arrange your dowry—I said before that I should properly prepare one for you. Qingyu, since you've agreed we'll remain family, this is something you have to let me do."
Zhu Qingyu didn't care much about secular marriage, and where her registration landed was even less important to her. But she wasn't sure the law would allow it, so she looked at Lord Zhuang:
"Is this permitted?"
Lord Zhuang had served for many years as the Commissioner of the Office of Transmission, and the petitions that reached that office were drawn from the strangest and most extraordinary cases among the people. Having witnessed this scene of a husband transforming into a cousin, he remained utterly composed and replied:
"There is precedent for this. It's not out of the ordinary."
Since the government allowed it, and Zhang Shen insisted, and Zhu Qingyu herself truly did regard the Zhang family as kin, her registration remained where it was.
The divorce proceedings went without a hitch, so smoothly that Zhu Qingyu even had time to return to the Hui Medical Clinic to see patients.
Before she left, Zhang Shen called out to her:
"In the future, on your days off, will you come back and stay here?"
Since they'd agreed to be family, there would naturally be visits, so Zhu Qingyu agreed.
The day before her first day off after the divorce, Zhang Shen came to the clinic early in the morning to wait for her to return home. After Zhu Qingyu finished seeing her patients and came out, she climbed into the carriage and said to him:
"In the future, I'll come back on my own. You have your own duties—no need to come and pick me up."
Zhang Shen sat especially far from her this time—basically at one end of the carriage while she was at the other—and replied:
"I didn't come specially. I was seeing a foreign merchant to the ferry, and happened to pass by."
The ferry wasn't even in this direction. Though she knew he was lying, Zhu Qingyu didn't call him out on it.
Their relationship had changed, and both of them needed time to slowly adjust.
After Zhu Qingyu and Zhang Shen divorced, the one who reacted most strongly was Zhang Ruohua.
When they got home, Zhang Shen corrected her address:
"From now on, you can't call her sister-in-law. You should call her cousin."
Zhang Ruohua puffed up with anger, shot Zhang Shen a glare, and stormed off—she didn't even come out to eat dinner.
Zhang Shen had arranged a courtyard in the inner residence for Zhu Qingyu. Seeing how strongly Zhang Ruohua reacted, Zhu Qingyu discussed it with Zhang Shen:
"Maybe I should just go back to the clinic, to avoid making Ruohua unhappy."
Zhang Shen shook his head, refusing to let her leave. He replied:
"If you leave, she'll be even more unhappy."
No one knew his sister better than he did. That evening, after Zhu Qingyu had washed up and was about to get into bed, Zhang Ruohua came running in, hovering by the door, looking at her with pleading eyes.
Zhu Qingyu beckoned to her:
"Third Sister, want to come sleep with me?"
Zhang Ruohua dashed over, burrowed under the covers, and took over half the bed, staying silent.
Zhu Qingyu blew out the lamp and got into bed as well. Zhang Ruohua immediately pressed close, resting her head against Zhu Qingyu's arm, still not speaking.
After Mid-Autumn, the autumn rains were endless, and with each evening breeze, the days grew colder.
Worried that Zhang Ruohua hadn't covered herself properly, Zhu Qingyu felt around in the dark and tucked the blanket around her.
Zhang Ruohua, wrapped in the blanket, finally spoke in a muffled voice thick with tears:
"Sister-in-law, is it because Second Brother was bad to you that you don't want us anymore?"
Zhu Qingyu touched her face—the emotional girl was indeed in tears.
Groping for a handkerchief and wiping Zhang Ruohua's tears, Zhu Qingyu answered:
"No, Ruohua. It has nothing to do with your second brother. It's my problem—I changed. If you feel bad about this, I can come less in the future, or not at all. Would that make you feel better?"
Zhang Ruohua hugged her arm and burst into loud sobs:
"No! Sister-in-law, if you don't want us anymore, I'll be so sad. But if you don't come to see me, I'll be even sadder. Wuwuwuwu, sister-in-law, I'm so sad."
The girl's emotions ran hot. She clung to Zhu Qingyu and cried for half the night, bursting into tears whenever she remembered, as if she could weep until the end of time.
But time is a strange and wonderful thing. By the time Zhu Qingyu went back on her fourth day off, Zhang Ruohua seemed to have adjusted. Not only had she changed her address to "cousin," but she even chatted cheerfully during dinner:
"Cousin, the next time you come back, it'll be Start of Winter. Miss Zhuang has invited me to go admire the autumn leaves at the Red Thread Temple—let's go together!"
Start of Winter would soon roll around again. It had been almost five years since Zhu Qingyu had transmigrated into this world.
The person who had made a promise of reunion at spring's parting remained utterly silent come winter.
Perhaps he had hit difficulties and couldn't come after all.
It was what she'd expected.
Since arriving in Jiangning, her days had been filled to the brim with work at the Hui Medical Clinic, leaving her almost no leisure. Suddenly, Zhu Qingyu felt a touch of weariness, and wanted a moment to be alone in stillness. So she answered:
"No. I have something to do on Start of Winter."
The day before Start of Winter, Zhu Qingyu lay in bed, unable to fall asleep no matter what. Even after the third watch passed, sleep wouldn't come, so she got up and went to the front examination room to organize recent case records and continue writing her Treatise on All Diseases.
In the dead of night, a knock came at the door of the Hui Medical Hall.
Hearing the sound of Uncle Qi, who lived in the room facing the street, opening the main gate, Zhu Qingyu felt her heart pound for no apparent reason. She jumped to her feet and rushed to the doorway.
Outside the door, snow had begun to fall from the sky, seemingly out of nowhere.
In the darkness, Gu Zhao stood holding a lantern, wrapped in a black cloak, his hair cropped short. When he saw Zhu Qingyu, he smiled.
“Benefactress,” he said, “this humble monk has traveled from the capital. Might I come in and trouble you for a cup of tea?”
