The woman's attire was strikingly different from the common run of people; her face was veiled with golden gauze, obscuring her features. Yet, her figure alone, slender and gracefully curved, suggested an elegant bearing—her pace both swift and slow, like a willow swaying in the wind. The tinkling sounds were made by the ornaments she wore. "My goodness, a Hu person!" someone exclaimed from within the hall.

No sooner had the shout gone up than the four or five men and women present drew out peculiar musical instruments and began to play. The leading woman commenced a graceful dance, moving in from the entrance. The hall, set with tables, was quite narrow, but the dancer moved with effortless fluidity. The accompanying music was unlike anything the audience typically heard. Silence descended upon the hall; young and old, male and female, all stared, transfixed.

Finally, a few military men signaled servants to clear away one of the banquet tables. The woman then leaped onto the surface and danced. As the piece concluded, she bent backward, leaning precariously over the tabletop, eliciting gasps of worry from many in the hall. Yet, she did not fall. Her veil slipped away, revealing tightly curled hair and deep blue eyes—a visage clearly not of the local people. In her mouth, she held a strip of silk inscribed with the characters "" (Wishing You Ten Thousand Years).

"Young Lord, heed the Imperial Edict: Bestow this Hu dancer upon the Marquis to celebrate his longevity," the four military men announced, kneeling in unison.

The utterance of "Imperial Edict" caused a moment of stunned silence before everyone present immediately rose and knelt, facing the Imperial City, to offer their thanks for the Emperor's grace. The Marquis of Dingxi, along with everyone else in the room, bowed low in gratitude.

When they rose, the Marquis of Dingxi was overcome with emotion, unable to articulate his feelings, and others were equally speechless. The gift sent by the Young Lord was astonishing. A Hu dancer was one thing—many noble houses kept them—but a song and dance personally bestowed by the Emperor was a rare honor indeed.

"Why didn't this child give us warning? This, this... it has caused such a stir with His Majesty..." the Marquis of Dingxi stammered, nearly incoherent.

"Reporting to the Marquis, the Young Lord achieved a new victory the day before yesterday, capturing a prince of the Dongnu. This Hu Ji was among the spoils presented to the Emperor, who was greatly pleased and wished to reward the Young Lord. When asked what he desired, the Young Lord replied that nothing else was needed, only that duty kept him from returning home to fulfill his filial piety toward his father. Citing the ancient text of Lao Laizi donning colorful clothes to amuse his parents, he stated he could not honor his father in person, and thus wished to request something from the Emperor that might also contribute to his father's long life. The Emperor was highly pleased, recognizing the Young Lord's sincere heart—loyal and filial in equal measure. He deemed mere gold and silver too vulgar a reward and commanded that this Hu Ji serve as the Young Lord's proxy for '' (coloring clothes to amuse the parent)." The large man delivering the message spoke loudly.

At these words, the already sentimental Marquis of Dingxi’s eyes brimmed with tears. Beyond murmurs of assent, he could manage nothing more.

"Is the child well when abroad? Wuxiaoshu.net is filled with countless stories." Lady Xie, however, was less concerned with the honor than with her son’s welfare. Wiping her eyes with a handkerchief, she asked, "You always bring good news and hide the bad. Even if he were bruised and battered, you wouldn't tell me..."

The messenger bowed his head.

"Be at ease, we dare not hide anything from the Marquis. The Young Lord is quite well, but when pursuing the Dongnu before the New Year, he took an arrow..." he began.

Before he could finish, gasps echoed throughout the hall, and Lady Xie sank back into her chair.

"Fear not, thanks to the spirit-warding jade plaque we sent, the Young Lord wore it close to his body. The arrow struck the plaque squarely; he is unharmed, though the jade is shattered. The Young Lord feels immense guilt and feared telling you lest you blame him..." the man declared loudly.

Lady Xie covered her face and wept.

"At a time like this, he feels guilty over that? He fails to grasp what matters! The plaque was sought precisely to shield him from disaster. This foolish child, he truly doesn't know..." she cried, clutching the Marquis of Dingxi's sleeve. "My lord, will Cheng-ge'er truly return this time? Three years—how much suffering has he endured outside..."

While they enjoyed silk and satiety, song and peace at home, their eldest son was playing with his life outside. The Marquis of Dingxi felt a bitter pang mixed with pride. A son’s achievement always brings honor to a father, and though the Marquisate of Dingxi would remain prosperous even without such glory, gaining the Emperor's favor was undoubtedly beneficial. Yet, this honor seemed dearly bought, far more arduously than that of other noble sons, stirring feelings of resentment, injustice, and heartbreak.

"Do not speak so. A man’s duty is to serve his sovereign loyally in battle. Moreover, you yourself, Marquis of Dingxi, rose through military might. Cheng-ge’er is doing excellently," the Marquis said, patting his wife's hand firmly. He then turned to the messenger, offering the customary words of encouragement to continue striving.

The messenger bowed in assent.

"The Young Lord said he will return by year's end at the latest," he added.

Hearing this, Lady Xie smiled through her tears. Congratulations erupted from all corners of the room. The messenger bowed one last time to the Marquis in celebration of his birthday, after which the Marquis ordered him treated well, and he finally departed.

The rest of the feast revolved entirely around the Young Lord. Everyone was delighted to join in the excitement. An Imperial decree bestowing song and dance for a birthday was unprecedented among other families; the Marquisate of Dingxi had truly gained immense face this time. One man's success meant prosperity for the entire clan, so their joy was genuine. In their elation, many drank heavily, including the Marquis of Dingxi, who usually possessed a strong tolerance.

"Uncle is truly overjoyed; even with a thousand cups he is drunk! It seems wine doesn't intoxicate, but intoxication intoxicates oneself," commented a young man, swaying slightly, as he glanced casually at Chang Yunqi sitting beside him, winking conspiratorially. "But then again, Third Brother, the one you sent is a fake beauty. Big Brother sent a real beauty..."

Chang Yunqi tapped the young man’s hand with his chopsticks.

"Watch your mouth. Dare to speak ill of my father again, and I’ll tell my elder brother to deal with you," he said with a laugh.

It seemed this young man had been disciplined often, for he immediately feigned distress and begged forgiveness.

"No, no! You two together—one with wits, one with fists—I can't afford to offend. Since childhood, I’ve been beaten so much I might as well have trained in the Iron Shirt and Golden Bell Shield skills..." he lamented.

Chang Yunqi playfully punched him, and the two laughed, dropping the topic.

As the night deepened, the banquet dispersed. Lady Xie helped the inebriated Marquis of Dingxi to bed, instructing the maids to attend him carefully and offer water. She then stepped out. The maids helped her remove her finery and change into simple home clothes.

"This is good now. With the Young Lord enjoying such Imperial favor, his suffering was not in vain," several older maids who had not yet retired remarked with satisfaction.

Lady Xie also wore an expression of relief.

"Hurry, hurry. As long as he isn't home, my heart won't settle. Which family's Young Lord has to wander about ceaselessly? I can barely imagine what this child endures..." she sighed, glancing outside with a measure of disdain. "Look at them all, jumping about, stirring up trouble, thinking they are so capable. If they truly had such ability, they would go out like Cheng-ge’er, instead of relying on parlor tricks."

The maids bowed their heads silently. Lady Xie was weary from several days of stress. She waved a hand, and the maids understood, bowed, and withdrew, save for Wet Nurse Zhou, who lingered a step behind.

"Something to say?" Lady Xie, sensing her hesitation, inquired.

"That..." Wet Nurse Zhou paused, unable to voice it.

"Speak," Lady Xie commanded, raising her eyelids to glance at the woman, a hint of impatience in her look. She’s getting old, isn't she? She wasn't like this before. This past period, she’s been acting strangely. Perhaps she’s growing senile?

"The Young Lady sent longevity dishes for the Marquis..." Wet Nurse Zhou, though noticing Lady Xie’s displeasure, pressed on.

Lady Xie looked up at her sharply.

Wet Nurse Zhou’s legs trembled under the woman's dagger-like gaze. She quickly recounted the entire matter, omitting nothing.

"I naturally did not place them on the table or mention them," she added quickly, perhaps fearing implication.

"Good, you aren't entirely addled," Lady Xie stated dryly. "Take them to feed the dogs."

Wet Nurse Zhou dared not utter another word and quickly agreed. As she left, she wiped sweat from her brow. The night wind made her feel a degree of absurdity. Is she aging? Ever since she met that Young Master that day, her actions have been clumsy... as if subtly bewitched.

The thought struck her just as a gust of wind swept by, carrying with it the faint sound of distant laughter, making Wet Nurse Zhou shiver violently, raising goosebumps across her skin.

She thrust the food box into the hands of a young maid, instructing her to feed the dogs, and then walked off alone.

The young maid hurried toward the nearest dog kennel, eager to hand off the task and go to sleep. Not watching where she was going, she slammed right into someone, receiving a resounding slap across the face that nearly sent her sprawling.

"Which insolent little wretch can't watch where she’s going?" a male voice cursed. "Where are you scurrying off to?"

Strong with alcohol fumes, a nearby lantern illuminated the scene, followed by another man's cackling laughter.

"A little maid throwing herself at you, Third Brother, shouldn't you catch her?"

The young maid recognized the voices of the Third Young Master and Fourth Young Master and immediately kowtowed, begging for mercy.

"What are you carrying? Why are you sneaking around?" Chang Yunqi had intended to ignore her, but seeing the direction she came from—Rong'an Courtyard—he couldn't help but ask gruffly.

The young maid dared not hide anything, though she omitted the specifics, only relaying what Wet Nurse Zhou and another maid had said about the box being prepared by the Young Lady in Qiutong Courtyard.

Hearing that the dishes were meant for the dogs, Chang Yunqi had already started to walk away, but a single sentence from the maid made him halt abruptly.

"This was prepared by the Young Lady?" he questioned.

"That little beggar girl?" Fourth Young Master Chang Yunhong also exclaimed in surprise.

The young maid couldn't clarify, only repeating the snippets she had overheard while bowing.

"She can't cook to save her life! It took her ages just to learn how to eat properly..." Chang Yunhong chuckled softly, losing interest, and nudged Chang Yunqi to move on.

Chang Yunqi turned but ultimately paused again.

"Give it here. The dogs in my courtyard haven't eaten yet; I'll take care of it," he said.

The young maid dared not refuse. After all, they were all dogs, and surely the Second Young Master's dogs deserved better food. She respectfully handed over the box.

"Bring the box to my courtyard tomorrow to retrieve it," Chang Yunqi called out, clutching the food box as he strode away.

When they reached a better-lit area, Chang Yunhong couldn't resist opening the container.

"This doesn't look fit for human consumption..." the Fourth Young Master declared, looking at the cold, unappetizing dish that bore no resemblance to meat.

Chang Yunqi stared at the bowl, his expression subtly changing. After a moment of silence, driven by an impulse he couldn't explain, he pinched a piece and threw it into his mouth.

"Third Brother, don't poison yourself..." Chang Yunhong exclaimed in alarm, trying to stop him.

But it was too late. Chang Yunqi had already tasted it. Tears immediately welled up, and he clutched his throat.

"That bad?" Chang Yunhong asked, wide-eyed.

"No... the Sichuan peppercorns are too strong..." Chang Yunqi's voice was hoarse. He frantically fanned his mouth with his hand, his tongue thick, as he spoke.