YCY - 2

Chapter 2: Rain Beats the Windows, Dampening Silk

“General has returned to the estate! General has returned!” Just as I was worrying about how to explain my earlier blunder, a middle-aged servant dressed in fine livery bowed deeply and stood ten meters away from the pavilion. “The general requests that Madam bring the young miss and young master to Fusu Hall.”

“Mm, understood.” Mother nodded slightly, and I obediently slid off her lap. Nong Mo stepped forward to adjust Mother’s attire. I gripped her slender fingers tightly with my chubby little hands, and we set off from the pavilion at a leisurely pace, heading east.

This home of my rebirth exuded an ancient simplicity. The long corridors were dark brown, winding and serene. Most of the trees planted within the estate stayed green year-round, their dense canopy stretching endlessly toward the horizon. Along the fan-shaped windows of the walkways peeked clusters of delicate roses—not as opulent as peonies, not as flamboyant as monthly roses, but perfectly balanced, neither too bold nor too plain, like carefully blended rouge. They reminded me so much of my mother in this life.

Lost in thought, we arrived at Fusu Hall before I realized it. The courtyard was solemn, its decor restrained, the woodwork painted in muted tones. This was Father’s study—the most confidential place in the Han household.

“Except for Huamei and Nong Mo, everyone else may leave,” Mother said softly. The servants bowed low and retreated.

Once the crowd dispersed, Mother took my hand along with Brother’s, and we slowly approached the building. Before entering, she exchanged a glance with Huamei and Nong Mo, who silently nodded and stationed themselves by the door.

“Jin Se, you’re here.” A tall, ruggedly handsome man gazed at us with deep affection—this was my father in this life, General Han Baiqing of Youguo. Father and Mother shared a profound bond. According to Nong Mo, they had fallen in love at first sight during the Qianqiao Festival. Despite opposition from King You, Father, holding a high position, married Mother—a merchant’s daughter—and made her his wife. For fifteen years, their love remained steadfast; Father never took another concubine. Their story had become a legendary romance in Youguo, adding a softer charm to Father’s reputation as the greatest warrior among the six kingdoms.

“Baiqing, what is it?” Mother furrowed her delicate brows slightly, releasing my hand and stepping forward.

“Xiao’er, Qingqing, come over here,” Father beckoned us with a hint of worry on his face. What was going on? I tilted my head and walked over, only to be scooped up into his arms.

Resting against Father’s broad shoulders, I blinked in confusion. He strode to the desk and pointed at a rolled-up parchment map. “Qingqing, this is the map of the six kingdoms.” A map? This was my first glimpse of the continent in five years. “Do you know the names of the six kingdoms?” Father asked kindly, looking at me earnestly.

“Qing, You, Yong, Jing, Liang, Yi.” I recited back, meeting his gaze steadily.

“Mm, your mother has taught you well.” Father smiled warmly, glancing tenderly at Mother. They began exchanging loving looks again, and I rolled my eyes toward Brother, who wore an equally exasperated expression. Enough already—it’s nauseating!

I squirmed in Father’s arms, successfully drawing his attention back. “Our kingdom, Youguo, lies at the southernmost tip.” He pointed to a boot-shaped country at the bottom of the map. “As you can see, Youguo has three neighboring countries. One is Jingguo, located at the center of the five kingdoms.” His slender finger tapped the smallest circle in the middle of the map. “To the west is Yongguo, and to the east is Qingguo.” Beyond these four, two other great nations occupied the northernmost region: Liangguo, northwest of Yongguo and north of Jingguo, and Yiguo, which bordered Qingguo and Jingguo in the south.

I quietly memorized the layout of the map and looked up at Father quizzically. Why was he teaching me geography today? “Qingqing, I will soon have to leave home and head to the border.” At these words, both Mother and Brother were visibly shocked.

“Father, are we going to war?” Brother stepped forward, his eyes locked onto Father’s.

Mother frowned lightly, her face clouded with concern. “Is it another conflict with Qingguo?” When I was three, Father had gone to battle once before. That time, he was gone for half a year. During those six months, Mother worried endlessly, alarmed by every whisper of trouble outside. That war ended with Youguo’s decisive victory: Qingguo ceded territory, paid reparations, and sent a hostage prince. After the Qing-You War, Father’s fame spread across all six kingdoms, solidifying Youguo’s dominance in the south.

“This time, it’s against Yongguo.” Father sat me down on the desk and pointed to the intersection of Yong, Jing, and You. “Yong’s king is dissatisfied with the tribute Jing provides, so he has launched an attack on Jing. Meanwhile, Empress Dowager Qian of Jing has sent envoys to our kingdom requesting assistance. Despite our objections, His Majesty has ordered our family’s army to aid Jing in fighting Yong.”

“And… how long will this campaign last?” Mother stared intently at Father, her voice heavy with worry. “Do we stand a chance of victory?”

“I don’t know.” Father sighed deeply. “All the information we’ve received comes through Jing’s envoy; we haven’t obtained detailed military reports ourselves.”

“Father, please allow me to accompany you.” Brother suddenly knelt, his gaze resolute. “I’m fourteen now. I’ve trained in martial arts and studied military strategy for ten years. I’m ready to fight alongside you and share your burden.”

“Xiao’er! Don’t be reckless!” Mother rushed forward, trying to pull him up.

“Jin Se.” Father raised a hand to stop her, then bent down to look seriously at Brother. “Battles on the front lines aren’t as simple as what you read in books. Enemies won’t hold back like your training instructors do. Do you understand?”

“I understand, and I still wish to go.” Brother nodded firmly, bowing his head.

“Very well. This time, Xiao’er shall join me in battle.” Father patted Brother’s shoulder approvingly, pride evident in his eyes.

“Baiqing!” Mother gasped, her eyes brimming with reluctance.

“Jin Se, as men of the Han family, serving our nation is our duty.” Father’s tone turned stern, his gaze burning into Mother’s. “By the time I was fourteen, my blade had tasted blood, and I’d fought on the battlefield more than ten times. Xiao’er is no longer the fledgling under your wing—he’s an eagle ready to face the storms.” With that, he lowered his gaze to me, regret flickering in his eyes. “But Qingqing, I won’t be able to celebrate your birthday with you this year.” He picked up a red silk bundle from the desk and placed it in my palm. “This is a gift I prepared for you. I’ll have to give it to you early.”

Carefully unwrapping the silk, I found a smooth, creamy white jade pendant shaped like a dragon’s eye. Carved into its surface was a mandala flower, its petals layered intricately, exuding an enchanting allure. “This jade came from beyond the seas. The flower etched on it is said to be a divine bloom from the heavens. White signifies happiness. I hope Qingqing’s life will always be blessed.” Saying this, he hung the pendant around my neck, adjusting the red cord meticulously.

Father… this is the legendary flower of the afterlife. In my past life, after death, I wandered by the River Styx in the underworld, where fiery red Manjushaka flowers bloomed along the path of reincarnation. Vivid as blood, radiant as flames, they shimmered hauntingly amidst the gray desolation, evoking longing, sorrow, and despair.

“Baiqing, when…” Mother bit her lip, hesitating, her face shadowed with concealed anxiety.

“Tomorrow.” Father set me down and rose slowly, his gaze piercing as he looked at Mother. “We depart tomorrow. After I leave, you and Qingqing must move to the palace temporarily.”

“Why so soon? And why…?” Mother grew increasingly agitated.

“It’s the king’s decree,” Father explained, stepping closer to grasp her trembling hand.

“Even if departure is imminent, why must Mother and Sister stay in the palace? It’s clear the king distrusts you and is using them as hostages!” Brother burst out angrily, resentment evident in his voice.

“Xiao’er!” Father’s voice was sharp, and Brother fell silent immediately. “No matter the doubts cast upon us, as long as we remain loyal and upright, the king will surely treat your mother and sister kindly.” Turning to me, he gently placed my hand in Mother’s. “Qingqing, hurry and help your mother pack. Prepare to enter the palace tomorrow. Xiao’er and I have matters to discuss.”

“Mm.” My heart churned uneasily, but I nodded obediently. Following Mother out, Huamei and Nong Mo trailed behind us. Mother remained silent, her brows furrowed, a veil of melancholy clinging to her. Entering Shangxin Pavilion and stepping into my bedroom, Mother opened the wardrobe and began packing. I leaned against Nong Mo, lost in thought: This is the cost of rising too high, overshadowing one’s lord. Let’s hope Father isn’t Yue Fei, and King You isn’t Zhao Gou.

A soft whimper snapped me out of my reverie. “Madam, what’s wrong?” Huamei hurried to support Mother, whose body trembled faintly. “Madam…”

Leaning on Huamei’s arm, Mother slowly moved to sit at the round table. Tears welled in her misty eyes, spilling drop by drop onto a pink handkerchief until it turned crimson, staining her sorrow deeper than words could convey. My throat tightened as I approached her. Taking her delicate hand, I whispered, “Mother, Qingqing will stay by your side. Father and Brother will surely return victorious.” Each time Father left, Mother would cry quietly where he couldn’t see her—fragile yet strong, pitiable yet admirable.

Mother wiped her tears and pulled me into her embrace, her grip tightening. “Qingqing, Qingqing.”

“Mm, I’m here,” I murmured softly. Mother, I’m here. Lean on me, and together we’ll wait for their triumphant return.

That night, summer rain arrived unexpectedly, stirring the crystal curtains with a gentle breeze. I slipped past Nong Mo, who slept near the outer edge of the bed, and padded barefoot to the window. Outside, bamboo swayed in the wind. Clutching the jade pendant around my neck, I stood there for a long while: Father, Mother, Brother—you are my dearest family in this life. Even amidst chaos and peril, please don’t give up. To persevere is to triumph.

Suddenly, a thunderclap roared, and fierce winds lashed the sky as torrential rain poured down. The silk drapes covering the windows soaked through, casting the room into shadowy gloom. Hearing Nong Mo shift in her sleep, I tiptoed quickly to the bedside, lifted the mosquito net, and crawled inside. Feeling her gentle pats, I closed my eyes and drifted off.

At dawn, I jolted awake, dressed hastily, and gazed at the disheveled courtyard battered by the storm. A chill seeped into my heart. Once Nong Mo finished braiding my hair and applying cinnabar to my forehead, I dashed out the door like a bolt of lightning.

“Father! Brother!” Leaning against the vermilion gate, I watched as they sat astride their steeds, bidding farewell to Mother.

Father smiled at me and nodded. “Qingqing, listen to your mother. After your birthday, I’ll return victorious.”

“Mm!” I nodded emphatically, gazing at him with unwavering confidence.

“While I’m away, little sister, don’t overeat, or I won’t be able to carry you when I return!” Brother, clad in a red battle robe, looked strikingly handsome in the hazy morning light. Pulling on the reins, he turned back and grinned, his demeanor relaxed and carefree.

“Brother should eat more himself! Don’t lose weight out there, or I’ll blame you if you can’t lift me!” I ran to his horse, looked up, and teased him playfully.

The two warriors, clad in armor, rode off into the thin morning mist, leaving behind Mother’s reluctant gaze and my waving hand. Ahead lay uncertainty—the road unknown.

Years later, this poignant scene of parting would still linger hazily in my dreams.

Departure, separation.

If only I hadn’t let them go that day… If only I could forget the memories that followed…