Chapter 97

The eighth day of the first lunar month—Su Huaijing’s birthday.

Rong Tang had moved back to Yong’an Lane and, early that morning, excitedly knocked on Su Huaijing’s door. He pulled him outside in a conspiratorial way, keeping his plans a mystery.

Thankfully, Su Huaijing, who always indulged Rong Tang, went along with it willingly, adopting an expectant expression. The weather was beautiful as their carriage left the city. It was late winter, early spring, and plum trees bloomed across the outskirts. The swallows would soon be returning.

The carriage journey lasted the entire morning. Rong Tang, unusually, did not grow sleepy, nor was he too dizzy. Every now and then, he’d peek out of the window with a thrilled look, as though it were his own birthday. Su Huaijing, moved by his joy, felt it was perhaps all a bit over the top.

Since he’d turned eight, he hadn’t celebrated his birthday. Now, at eighteen, it felt somewhat childish to anticipate one.

Yet seeing Tangtang so cheerful, Su Huaijing found himself caught up in the mood, his spirits lifted.

He couldn’t pinpoint why exactly. The weather, the hour, the sunlight, the company…

Altogether, it seemed to make everything feel right, and for once, he found himself looking forward to his birthday and to whatever gift Tangtang had planned.

The carriage pulled up outside a quiet estate in the countryside. Two jujube trees grew by the entrance, bearing crisp, sweet fruit that would fall easily come autumn.

Two freshly-carved stone lions stood guard at the gate, one with a pearl, the other with a ball. They were symbols of wealth and tranquillity.

The estate, bordered by woods, sat quietly. The sound of their carriage disturbed birds and creatures from the forest, sending them into the early spring sunlight with clear calls.

Su Huaijing, a little stunned, stepped out, gazing around before turning a questioning look on Rong Tang. “This is?”

Rong Tang, with a grin so wide his face reddened, was about to reply when a gust of cold wind swept in, causing him to cough uncontrollably.

Immediately, Su Huaijing’s curiosity was replaced by concern. His brows drew together gently as he took the hand-warmer from Shuang Fu and placed it in Rong Tang’s arms, patting his back to soothe him. “Take your time, don’t rush.”

“I’m not rushing,” Rong Tang muttered after catching his breath, clearly annoyed. “Blame that gust of wind.”

Su Huaijing, suppressing a chuckle, indulged his sudden childishness. “Yes, it’s the wind’s fault.”

The obvious attempt to appease him embarrassed Rong Tang, who hadn’t felt self-conscious at first. But hearing Su Huaijing’s response, his ears turned red, and he averted his gaze, unwilling to dwell on it.

Grabbing Su Huaijing’s wrist, Rong Tang urged, “Come on, let’s go inside!”

Although sparsely populated, the estate didn’t feel desolate or neglected.

From the outside, it seemed unremarkable, but after stepping up to the front of the courtyard, circling around the shadow wall, and progressing step by step through the atrium, Su Huaijing became aware of what Rong Tang had gifted him.

His eyes widened in a moment of revelation. He stood still, gazing at the frozen artificial lake at the garden’s centre, speechless.

The mansions on Xuanwu Avenue, all owned by royal relatives, were each more luxurious and magnificent than the last.

The courtyard where he had lived as a child, the corridors he’d wandered, the elm tree he’d once climbed…

So many fragments from his past, things that should have faded along with the sugar figurine in the young general’s hand, had now been meticulously recreated in this manor, far from the capital.

The stone lions were the first things you’d see upon stepping off the carriage. Both Su Huaijing and the late crown prince were dignified, noble heirs within the Dayu Imperial Palace. But when they returned to Duke Xian’s mansion, they were simply children from their mother’s family returning from afar. They could act playfully, ask for an extra piece of osmanthus candy, or beg their biao ge to lift them high enough to reach a bird’s nest in the tree.

He actually… had loved that residence very much.

He seldom felt regret after making a decision, but that blazing fire on the day of the first snowfall haunted his dreams, along with the fire in the palace ten years before.

He stood just outside the firelight, watching his younger self struggling and running, seeing his nanny desperately stuff him into a bucket, hoist it onto a cart, and then watching the dark clouds gather over the capital as the flames spread from the palace to Duke Xian’s mansion.

Su Huaijing simply stood there, watching familiar fragments of his past burn, turn to ash, float skyward, and blend into the dark clouds, until nothing was left to see.

He sometimes wondered—was there really no other way than burning it down?

It seemed not. He couldn’t fully override Emperor Renshou’s will. Duke Xian’s mansion had always been an eyesore to him. Even if he hadn’t gifted it to Sheng Chengli now, he would’ve eventually found an excuse to dispose of it.

But how could they deserve to live in his maternal grandfather’s house, or reside in the courtyard where his mother grew up?

So, it had to be burned. Even if he would never see it again in his lifetime, it was still better than going to the underworld someday and facing his grandfather asking why he hadn’t protected their home.

Yet, in an instant, Rong Tang took those ashes, gathered them in his hands, and, carefully, as if they were treasures, painstakingly restored them, finally recreating a smaller “Duke Xian mansion” right in front of him.

Rong Tang stood beside him, shivering occasionally in the cold wind. Although wrapped in a large cloak, he instinctively edged closer to Su Huaijing, rubbing against him for warmth.

Then, casually, he explained, “The garden is a bit smaller, and not everything was rebuilt as before. Tell me if you see anything amiss, and I’ll have the craftsmen change it.”

The tone was so relaxed, as if it were a simple task to memorise every detail of such a house and take time to rebuild and restore it.

Su Huaijing’s voice came out a little hoarse. After a moment, he asked, “Is this for me?”

Rong Tang’s face lit up, and he nodded with a smile. “Yes! Happy birthday!”

The legal age of adulthood in Dayu was fifteen, but to Rong Tang, turning eighteen was still a day worth celebrating.

The youth crosses into adulthood, embarking on a future full of possibilities.

Just being able to watch made Rong Tang feel an endless joy.

In his heart, he added: Happy adulthood!

You’ve truly grown into a wonderful person!

The spring breeze brought a chill that made Su Huaijing’s eyes sting. He blinked, turned, took Rong Tang’s hand, and led him toward the house with the warm charcoal fire.

“Eh?” Rong Tang was taken aback, hesitating for a moment, lowering his head, and looking up at Su Huaijing with blinking eyes, feeling the earlier joy drain away.

Why did he… feel like Huaijing didn’t particularly like this gift?

His reaction seemed a bit too subdued.

Rong Tang was at a loss.

He’d spent ages preparing this surprise, but Huaijing didn’t seem to like it?

The young prince was a little disheartened. He stared at Su Huaijing for a moment, checking that there was indeed no trace of happiness on Su Huaijing’s face. Feeling deflated, he withdrew and lowered his head slightly, like a defeated rooster.

But then, Su Huaijing said, “Thank you.”

He paused, then said it again, with particular care: “Thank you.”

Rong Tang’s eyes lit up as he asked eagerly, “You like it, right? You do, don’t you? You can’t help but like it, surely?”

Su Huaijing laughed. The warmth that had just risen in his heart was now suppressed by Rong Tang’s joyful expression. Looking at him, he nodded and repeated, “I like it very much. Thank you, Tangtang gege.”

The defeated rooster immediately lifted his head, feeling incredibly proud!

A carefully prepared gift that turns out to be just what the recipient loves—he could brag about this for years!

[You’re amazing!] the system remarked, with a slight edge of sarcasm.

Rong Tang, magnanimous as ever, decided not to argue with Su Huaijing on his birthday. Instead, he said, “I’m a genius.”

[Ah yes-yes-yes, Tangtang, the little genius.]

Rong Tang: “Hey!”

Only a few sweepers and gatekeepers had been stationed in the garden. They’d been told in advance that the master would be visiting today, so they’d lit the stove in the main hall. As soon as Rong Tang slipped through the door curtain, the warmth instantly enveloped him.

Su Huaijing tested the tea’s temperature with his hand, poured two cups, and asked, “When did you prepare all this?”

Rong Tang took a sip, frowning since he was still not fond of the taste. He warmed himself a bit before setting the cup down and replied, “Right after we returned from Song Garden.”

Su Huaijing raised his brows in surprise. “So early?”

Rong Tang nodded, sidestepping the details and asking with a smile, “Aren’t I great?”

He deliberately threw out the question, saying nothing of why he’d started preparing the estate before Duke Xian’s mansion was even burned down, or where he’d obtained the blueprints to replicate the garden so accurately.

Su Huaijing had been about to ask, but Tangtang’s teasing, with his eyes curving and that playful request for praise, made those questions seem less important.

He smiled softly and nodded, “Yes, you’re wonderful, Tangtang. Exceptionally wonderful.”

Su Huaijing added, “Meeting Tangtang has been my good fortune. Being taken in by you, an extraordinary blessing.”

It wasn’t that he was unable to show emotion, but rather that the gift had taken him so by surprise that he struggled to react immediately.

Taking the wedding carriage from Yong’an Lane to Duke Ningxuan’s Palace, and seeing such a meticulously decorated bedroom and study in Tanghua Courtyard, Su Huaijing felt, for the first time in years, what it was like to be truly cherished.

But now, seeing this estate appear before him so unexpectedly, Su Huaijing was completely stunned.

His mind seemed unable to process it. Everywhere he looked, familiar scenes overlapped old with new, as if he could still hear the hearty laughter of General Wei. But now, standing beside him, was Rong Tang.

Su Huaijing realised that Tangtang had already given him everything he’d longed for.

He wanted Rong Tang’s love, but with such a deeply meaningful residence right in front of him, how could he even think Tangtang didn’t care?

With utmost sincerity, Su Huaijing looked into Rong Tang’s eyes, a smile forming, as he murmured that he felt incredibly lucky. The previously boastful young prince suddenly found himself at a loss for words, blushing slightly.

“It’s not that amazing,” he whispered.

If he counted properly, this past year with Su Huaijing had been happier and freer than both his previous lives combined.

So, how should he tally this?

“I’m very lucky too,” Rong Tang said.

Lucky he hadn’t fainted and been bedridden in early spring, lucky he’d gone to Fengyue House early, lucky he’d survived Su Huaijing’s initial murderous intent, and lucky to see the main villain like this.

He said, “Huaijing, you’re actually very, very good.”

Outside, spring sunlight shone warmly, migratory birds were on their way home, and it was almost midday, with the aroma of food wafting from the kitchen.

Su Huaijing, smiling, asked, “Since I’m so wonderful, doesn’t Tangtang want to be with me?”

Not just like they were now, but properly married, growing old together, sharing a life.

I’ve entered your family’s records, so why aren’t we properly married?

Su Huaijing asked out of habit. Over the past six months, he’d asked similar questions countless times, but Rong Tang always turned him down without hesitation.

But today was his birthday, and Su Huaijing wanted a little birthday-boy privilege.

He’d thought Rong Tang would either refuse again or give a slightly ambiguous answer for his birthday’s sake, but, unexpectedly, after he asked, Rong Tang was oddly silent.

Su Huaijing was slightly taken aback. This was a first.

Rong Tang pursed his lips, seemingly in deep thought. After a long pause, he tentatively asked, “Then will you promise not to be buried with me?”

“?”

Su Huaijing was genuinely baffled. He asked, “If I agree, will you be with me?”

Rong Tang wrinkled his nose, discreetly clenched his hands at his sides, and whispered, “If you agree, we could try dating first.”

Su Huaijing: “Dating?”

Rong Tang’s face turned a little red, knowing his choice of words was too modern, so he explained, “It’s when two people like each other and spend time together, getting to know each other better.”

For perhaps the first time in his life, Su Huaijing encountered such a perplexing idea. He asked, baffled, “But aren’t we already married?”

He added, “We’re married and have been living together for nearly a year now.”

What else was there to get to know? What he wanted to know was what Tangtang had kept hidden from him, but he couldn’t ask about that now.

Su Huaijing was deeply confused.

Rong Tang’s gaze shifted, his mouth feeling dry. After a moment’s hesitation, he softly said, “It’s a marriage-before-love kind of thing…”

Su Huaijing: “?”

Excellent, another unfamiliar term.

His curiosity about what else might be lurking in Rong Tang’s mind only grew. But now that Tangtang had finally softened his stance, Su Huaijing didn’t want to push him.

He just asked, “So, as long as I promise not to be buried with Tangtang, Tangtang will agree to be with me?”

Rong Tang was silent for a moment, then nodded almost imperceptibly.

Su Huaijing laughed heartily and declared, “Agreed.”

Rong Tang looked up at him instantly, and Su Huaijing smiled gently. “So, are we dating now?”

“…I suppose…so,” Rong Tang murmured, also a little confused.

“Then, may I hold Tangtang’s hand?” Su Huaijing asked.

Rong Tang: “Haven’t you been holding it all along?”

“That’s different,” Su Huaijing replied, without explaining why.

He held Rong Tang’s hand, sitting at the doorway, warming themselves by the fire, watching the birds foraging in the courtyard, with a light mist curling up from the chimney.

It was so quiet in the countryside that it felt as if they were the only two people there.

Su Huaijing looked at this familiar yet unfamiliar residence, suddenly chuckled, and murmured, “Tangtang is like my anchor.”

With him around, it seemed he’d never lose his way.

As for being buried together…

Tangtang had tricked him so many times, so it wouldn’t be entirely unfair to return the favour just once, would it?

At this thought, Su Huaijing grew cautious, asking, “Why agree today? Is it because it’s my birthday? Are you deceiving me?”

“?” Rong Tang was stunned. “I’m not a liar!”

Su Huaijing eyed him with suspicion, saying nothing.

Rong Tang: “???”

After a moment’s silence, he said, “Because you’re eighteen.”

Su Huaijing looked puzzled. “And?”

Rong Tang glanced at him, his voice small and uncertain, “And I am a good person with morals.”

Su Huaijing: “…?”

Ah, the ‘good person’ line again. Tangtang, are you pulling my leg?

The author has something to say:

Qiuqiu: Ah, yes, yes! You have morals and you are a good person, and you don’t avoid when people kiss you!