Dusk had set in, and the last trace of twilight had vanished below the horizon, leaving only a faint orange ribbon like a faded silk sash spread across the edge of the sky.
In front of the Weiyuan Marquis's mansion, however, it was brightly lit.
Two rows of large red lanterns hung high, illuminating the area before the gate so clearly that even the stone lions' facial patterns were visible in detail.
The Old Madam had ordered those lanterns replaced—they were even larger than those used during festivals, their red silk embroidered with dark gold auspicious cloud patterns, swaying gently in the night breeze as if the mansion itself were smiling in welcome to its guests.
The main gate stood wide open.
This was the highest honor the Marquis's household could offer.
Ordinarily, even for distinguished guests, only the side gate would be opened or they would be led through the corridor. The vermillion main door would only be unsealed during festivals, ancestral rites, or when receiving imperial edicts or welcoming the emperor.
But today.
It stood open.
Because the person returning today was worthy of this door opening for him.
Inside the threshold, a dense crowd stood in darkness.
Every single person in the Weiyuan Marquis’s household, from masters to servants, gathered at the entrance without exception.
The Old Madam stood at the center, leaning on her rosewood cane, her back straight. Her usually stern eyes held an uncommon gentleness.
Pei Fucheng stood half a step behind her, the perpetually tight line of his lips curved upward just slightly. Madam Li, the Marquis’s wife, stood with her hands clasped in front of her, maintaining her dignified poise, but her gaze kept drifting toward the alleyway with visible eagerness.
Pei Fugui was beaming, his round face radiant with joy. Madam Zhou beside him still had reddened eyes, but her smile could not be suppressed. Zhou Youfu stroked his beard, looking toward the alley with pride and satisfaction. Zhou Dahe, his dark face wearing a grin, stood as straight as a spear.
Pei Ciling stood farther off, his expression calm. Beside him, Shen Ningyue kept her head down, her face unreadable.
Even Cheng Lu, who rarely left her courtyard, had come.
She stood at the back of the crowd.
Her figure had changed tremendously. The moon-white gown she wore was now filled with a graceful curvature—shapely and well-proportioned, refined and elegantly contoured. The young woman who, months ago, had been so thin and angular she could barely be distinguished from a man, was now practically unrecognizable.
Imperial Physician Hua's medicine had truly worked.
After drinking the herbal decoction for months, coupled with her mind gradually opening up and her daily life being carefully tended to, the feminine characteristics that had been suppressed in her for nineteen years began to unfurl like spring blossoms—sprouting, budding, blooming, and opening.
With careful grooming and adornment,
There was no trace left of the former Ninth Prince.
In the distance, the sound of hoofbeats could faintly be heard.
The sound was still far away, vague and indistinct, but everyone's ears perked up. All eyes turned as one toward the entrance of the alley.
The hoofbeats grew closer.
Finally, a white horse turned into the alley.
The rider wore a deep blue jinshi robe, with wide sleeves and a loose cut, a blue belt cinched at the waist. Upon his hat was still pinned that pink-white peony.
A red sash draped across his shoulder, tied at the waist, making him look spirited and festive.
But his jinshi robe was also scattered with petals—pink, white, and red. Some were caught in the folds of the fabric, others hung from the belt, and a few still clung to his shoulders.
Clearly, these were the results of the flower shower earlier that day.
Several small flower petals were still caught in his hair, and in the lantern light, they looked like stars scattered across his head.
As Pei Cijing rode up on horseback, he spotted from afar the brightly lit scene before the mansion, saw the wide-open vermillion gate, and the crowd of people standing darkly inside the threshold.
He paused, momentarily surprised.
This was far grander than he had imagined.
He had thought only his parents and wife would be waiting for him at the gate, and that perhaps his grandmother and elders might send someone with congratulations as a formality.
But what he saw now—the entire household had turned out in full force.
Even Cheng Lu, who usually lived in seclusion in the back courtyard, had come.
Pei Cijing did not dare to lag. He dismounted from his horse, tossed the reins to a waiting servant, and hurried toward the gate. His steps were measured, but steady. The petal-covered jinshi robe swayed lightly in the night breeze, as though he wore the very light of spring.
When he reached the Old Madam, he stood still for a moment, adjusted his cap and robes, then bent down in a deep bow.
"Grandmother, your grandson is late in coming, keeping you and everyone waiting."
His voice was not loud, but it reached each person clearly.
The Old Madam looked at him, at this young man bowing before her, at the colorful petals on his jinshi robe, at the pink-white peony pinned to his hat. The tenderness in her eyes seemed close to spilling over.
She reached out, took Pei Cijing by the arm, and helped him straighten up.
"Not late," she said. Her voice held a rare warmth, along with a hint of teasing. "Our Marquis's household now has a Tanhua scholar. This is a most joyous honor. If a Tanhua returns, we certainly cannot have no one waiting to receive him, can we?"
Pei Cijing heard his grandmother’s gentle teasing, his lips quirking slightly upward. But he did not respond, only standing respectfully with a fitting smile on his face.
A smile without speaking.
Was the best approach.
The Old Madam said nothing more. She held his arm, looking him over from head to toe.
As she did, her gaze paused slightly.
Her second grandson truly seemed different today. It was not a change in clothes or appearance, but an inner transformation in the aura that radiated from his very bones.
In the past, there had been a lazing about Pei Cijing.
Not a pretense—it was genuinely baked into his bones. He walked without urgency, spoke without haste, as if the sky could fall and he would yawn first before thinking of what to do.
The Old Madam used to watch him and feel a certain quiet helplessness.
This boy, so young, had learned nothing so well as to follow his father, Pei Fugui’s, style of living—mindful of ease and pleasure, carefree and idle.
But today,
Perhaps because he had achieved the Tanhua honor at such a young age, or perhaps the exhilaration of parading through the streets had not yet faded, that laziness had substantially dimmed.
In its place,
Was a youthful pride at having realized his ambitions.
Not a haughty or arrogant pride, but a kind of restrained, weighty confidence—like bamboo shoots that had been soaked in spring rain, bursting upward overnight.
Standing tall, branches unfurled.
The Old Madam looked at him, and her warmth rose like a spring stream, slowly flooding her heart. This child had finally found the right path.
Her gaze softened even further. She patted Pei Cijing’s arm and said gently, "Good. Good. It is good to be home."
Pei Fucheng stepped forward. He stood before Pei Cijing and examined him thoroughly—his gaze was intense, not like looking at a junior, but like inspecting soldiers on the training field.
Pei Cijing felt somewhat uncomfortable under his father's examination, but he remained standing straight, letting him look.
After a moment, Pei Fucheng spoke.
"You have done well this time."
His voice was not loud, and his tone was flat, as if remarking on something ordinary. But Pei Cijing could hear the genuine recognition within those few words.
Pei Fucheng paused, then continued, "But beware of arrogance and impatience. Do not let this success go to your head. Coming third in the palace examination is merely the starting point of an official career; the road ahead is long. In the imperial court there are many who hold higher rank and wield greater power than you. You are young and inexperienced, new to official life. Watch more, listen more, and speak less. Think three times before you act, and never let a momentary pride make you lose your composure."
His tone was severe, and his expression as rigid as ever.
This elder uncle was simply not born with the ability to speak gently. Clearly concerned, his words always carried a hint of admonition.
But Pei Cijing could hear the genuine care beneath those words.
Every single word the man spoke was for his own good—those reminders, those cautions, those seemingly harsh "do not let success go to your head" were unmistakably the earnest advice of an elder who had spent decades navigating both the court and the military, speaking to a younger man about to step into the same arena.
Because he cared, he said these things.
If he hadn't cared,
he could have just muttered a perfunctory "congratulations" and left it at that.
Pei Cijing clasped his hands in a formal bow: "Uncle's teachings, your nephew shall remember."
Pei Fucheng gazed at this nephew before him—handsome, clear-eyed, nearly as tall as himself. A flicker of emotion passed through his eyes, then he nodded, stepped back, and said nothing further.
Next came the congratulations and praise from family and relatives.
Pei Fugui hurried over, his round face flushed with excitement, his eyes narrowed into slits from smiling so hard. He gave his son a firm pat on the shoulder, his voice brimming with unstoppable pride: "Good lad! A tanhua! Far better than your old man could ever be!"
Pei Cijing staggered sideways from the blow, wincing as he said, "Father, please be gentle. Your son still needs these shoulders."
Pei Fugui burst out laughing, gave him another pat, then stepped aside.
Madam Zhou pushed her way forward, grabbing her son's hands and examining him from head to toe. Her eyes reddened again. She opened her mouth, wanting to say something, but found a thousand words stuck in her throat. In the end, all she managed was: "It's good you're back. It's good you're back."
Pei Cijing's heart softened at the sight of his mother like this. He held her hands and said with a smile, "Mother, your son has brought you honor, hasn't he?"
Madam Zhou nodded forcefully, but couldn't hold back her tears any longer. They spilled down freely. She quickly covered her mouth with a handkerchief, turned around, and her shoulders trembled slightly.
Zhou Youfu and Zhou Dahe also came forward. The old man stroked his beard, grinning so widely his mouth wouldn't close, saying "good" three times in a row. Zhou Dahe's dark face was full of smiles as he firmly grasped his nephew's arm—his grip even stronger than Pei Fugui's, making Pei Cijing's mouth twitch in pain.
Then came the maids, page boys, matrons, and servants of the household, approaching one after another to offer congratulations.
"Congratulations to Second Young Master on becoming a tanhua!"
"Second Young Master has truly brought glory to the Marquis's manor!"
"The tanhua! The tanhua!"
Pei Cijing acknowledged each one with a smile on his face, repeating, "The same joy to you all."
Truth be told, he was already tired. During the day, he had paraded through the streets, surrounded by onlookers the entire way while flower petals and pouches were thrown at him. Now back home, he still had to receive congratulations from so many people. He felt the muscles in his face might have frozen from smiling.
But he knew all this came from their goodwill, and he couldn't afford to lightly disregard it.
Just as he was thinking,
a figure stepped before him.
Pei Cijing paused momentarily.
It was Madam Li, the matriarch of the marquis's household. Today she wore a deep purple overskirt, adorned with pearls and jade, displaying no lack of dignity. Yet standing before Pei Cijing, her face carried a trace of awkwardness, as if she wanted to say something but didn't know how. Her expression was quite strained.
Pei Cijing observed her like this, his heart subtly stirred, but his face revealed nothing. He simply stood respectfully, waiting for her to speak.
Madam Li hesitated before finally breaking the silence: "Cijing, your aunt here has long seen that you were clever since you were a child. Now that you've ranked as a tanhua, it is truly well-deserved."
Her words came out rather dry, as if improvised on the spot or borrowed from someone else. Even Madam Li herself felt awkward. She pursed her lips, her gaze darting away.
Pei Cijing listened.
He found himself somewhere between amused and exasperated.
His aunt's words now were quite contrary to what she had said before.
He remembered when Madam Li used to bring him up, the word she used was not "clever" but "lazy," "unambitious," and "a chip off the old block of his father."
Back then, the look in her eyes when she saw him had carried a hint of contempt, a touch of disdain—as if he were the most worthless member of the marquis's manor.
But now—
in an instant—
he had become "clever since he was a child."
Her ability to change her face was faster than flipping through a book.
Then again, one doesn't hit a smiling face. Since she had come to offer congratulations on her own initiative, it wouldn't be right to embarrass her. Besides, seeing Madam Li lower her pride like this, he could roughly guess the reason.
It was most likely for the next generation.
Although nothing was certain yet, one must always plan ahead. If the next generation had a talent for literature and wanted to pursue the imperial examination path, hiring outside tutors cost money and involved inconvenient obligations.
Nothing compared to having his tanhua uncle personally guide them.
It saved money, preserved family bonds, and sounded impressive—“My son's education was personally taught by the Brother Tanhua.”
Madam Li's changed attitude might have been driven by such considerations.
But Pei Cijing didn't mind this.
First, the children were innocent. If any of them truly had literary talent, he would be glad to offer some guidance—it would be a good deed. Second, compared to the previous coldness and quiet rivalry, having the entire marquis's manor live in harmony was, in any case, a good thing.
Peace in the family brings prosperity.
He smiled, raised his hands in a bow, and said sincerely, "Thank you for your kind praise, Aunt. Your nephew is just lucky; I don't deserve such compliments."
Seeing his affable attitude with no hint of putting on airs, Madam Li sighed internally with relief. Her smile grew more natural. She said a few more auspicious words and then stepped aside.
The last to come forward were Pei Ciling and Shen Ningyue.
Pei Ciling wore a navy blue robe today, his expression calm. He stood before Pei Cijing and met his gaze for a moment.
The brothers' eyes crossed in the air—no sparks, no undercurrents, just a peaceful, frank exchange.
Pei Ciling clasped his hands: "Second Brother, congratulations."
Four words, simple and plain, without any unnecessary embellishment.
Pei Cijing returned the gesture: "Thank you, Elder Brother."
Also four words, equally simple.
The two smiled at each other. There was no great warmth in their smiles, but neither was there the hidden distance that had once existed between them. It was like two rivers that had once crossed and then diverged, finally finding their respective courses again.
Shen Ningyue stood beside Pei Ciling, her eyes slightly lowered. She stepped forward, made a formal bow, and said, "Congratulations to Second Young Master on becoming a tanhua."
Her voice was soft, her tone carrying no discernible emotion—neither cold nor warm, as if going through the motions, saying what needed to be said and bowing as etiquette required.
Pei Cijing gave a slight nod. “Thank you.”
His tone was equally calm, showing neither deliberate distance nor excess warmth, as if he were dealing with an ordinary relative—all the proper courtesies observed, and nothing more.
Shen Ningyue straightened up.
Her gaze lingered on Pei Cijing’s face for a moment.
The man before her wore a deep blue jin-shi robe, with a peony pinned to his hat, exuding the youthful confidence of one who had achieved success early in life. This face bore some resemblance to the one she remembered, yet there was a difference.
What remained the same were the eyes and brows.
They were still as she recalled—bright, languid, carrying a hint of careless indifference, as if nothing truly mattered to him.
What had changed was the aura.
In her memory, Pei Cijing had been nothing but useless, a piece of mud that couldn’t be propped up against a wall. Day after day, he wallowed in idleness and confusion. In her past life, she had never seen such spirit on his face.
But in this life, he had earned the title of tanhua, entered officialdom, and now stood here, radiating a presence far more dazzling than in any previous incarnation.
Shen Ningyue withdrew her gaze.
She lowered her eyes.
Pushing those surging thoughts back into the depths of her heart.
She no longer wanted to make comparisons. She no longer had the strength to scheme or calculate. She turned around, preparing to retreat back to Pei Ciling’s side.
But just as she turned—
A sudden churning sensation rose from her stomach, without warning, catching her off guard.
It came fiercely and swiftly, as if something were twisting inside her, sending bile shooting up into her throat. Instinctively, she covered her mouth, bent over, and let out a stifled retch.
“Ugh—!!!”
The sound was not loud, but it fell clearly into the ears of everyone present.
They were all stunned.
Pei Cijing was taken aback as well. Although the matter of the bride swap had made their relations somewhat delicate, so much time had passed—surely there was no need to retch on such a joyous occasion?
He looked at Shen Ningyue, bent over and heaving, at the hand covering her mouth, at her slightly pale face. He suddenly realized he had been mistaken.
Shen Ningyue was probably not expressing any objection.
Rather, there was another reason.
He turned to Pei Ciling and, cupping his hands in a respectful salute, said, “Big Brother, congratulations—it seems our marquis estate may be blessed with a double joy today.”
A double joy.
These four words fell into the courtyard like a stone dropped into a deep pool, stirring up ripples layer after layer...
