Chapter 91: The Final Chapter
Gu Yan’s eyes darkened. His distinctly-knuckled hand covered her wrist, and he said gently, "In ancient times, Huang Quan painted feathers with a technique called ‘light strokes for the tail, heavy dye for the wing roots.’ The bird’s plumage should be here... apply more pressure at the feather stem."
As he spoke, he extended his long arm, drawing her slender waist back into his embrace. His tall stature perfectly concealed her; from a distance, only a wisp of her sleeve, stirred by the breeze, could be seen.
It didn’t matter.
A smile played on Gu Yan’s lips. He always believed that human effort could shape destiny. As long as she was in his arms, they had a lifetime to slowly entwine. Besides, she wasn’t entirely indifferent to him.
He could wait.
Yan Xuerui’s attention was on the painting, or perhaps she had simply grown accustomed to his presence. She lowered her brows, meticulously applying the last trace of gold powder, then looked up at Gu Yan.
Their eyes met, and Gu Yan immediately understood her unspoken meaning. He rose, fetched a plain handkerchief from the desk, and began to gently wipe her glistening white fingertips, one by one. Yan Xuerui gazed at the azure sky and sighed softly, "In the morning, we watch the water flow east; in the evening, we watch the sun set west. Days pass so quickly."
Last year was fraught with turmoil, and only after the New Year did a gradual calm settle. Stable days slipped away like sand through fingers, unnoticed until early summer arrived. Ming Wei had found a good match, and her studies improved daily. In a few months, she could anticipate the return of her eldest son and his family to the capital.
With something to look forward to, even the breeze carried warmth.
"Indeed," Gu Yan said, casually picking up the handkerchief she had used to wipe his own hands. He smiled, "Some things, once ready for this season, shouldn’t be kept hidden forever."
"Time spares no one. Let’s not squander these precious moments."
Unlike Yan Xuerui, who was preoccupied with their children, Gu Yan was subtly referring to the wedding gown the Imperial Sewing Bureau had been rushing to complete. A phoenix, embroidered with golden threads, proudly soared on the fabric, its edges adorned with plump, lustrous pearls that shimmered in concert with the gems at the waist—a vibrant, fiery red, resplendent with flowing light.
Hearing this, Yan Xuerui subtly raised an eyebrow, giving him a sidelong glance.
"Give it to Ming Wei. At my age, I’d be a laughingstock."
"Who in the world doesn’t know that Princess Changle is a beauty capable of toppling nations? What is there to fear?"
Gu Yan chuckled softly. With the transition of imperial power, the people enjoyed prosperity, regardless of who sat on the throne. But after the "divorce" incident, Princess Changle's reputation for beauty spread far and wide. Now, as the birth mother of the young emperor, governing in a woman’s role—a rarity since ancient times—she became a popular topic of conversation.
Seeing Yan Xuerui’s beautiful eyes gradually widen, Gu Yan knew when to stop. "Alright, alright, if you’re unhappy, I won’t say another word."
He suppressed his smile and said seriously, "But I must tell you, abandon that idea immediately."
Whether she wore it or not, what he gave her was hers alone. Even if it gathered dust in the storeroom, no one else could lay a hand on it—not even their daughter. Moreover, Yan Xuerui had a delicate figure. The tailors at the marquis's residence took her measurements every season, and this wedding gown was tailored entirely to her physique. Ming Wei’s frame was larger than Yan Xuerui’s; it wouldn't fit her.
When Gu Yan wasn’t smiling, his brows were slightly furrowed, and his phoenix eyes held a deep, heavy pressure. A year ago, Yan Xuerui would still be intimidated, lowering her head and obediently complying. But after over a year of this, she had gradually found a balance in her interactions with him.
"What kind of father are you?" Yan Xuerui chided. "Zhilu fears you, and you show no interest in Ming Wei’s marriage. Minglan and his wife will soon return to the capital. As a grandfather, what gift have you prepared for the little one?"
Her attempt to change the subject was not particularly subtle, but Gu Yan chuckled and played along. "Haven’t you prepared a pile of little trinkets? As husband and wife, we are one. Why distinguish between yours and mine?"
Yan Xuerui was gentle yet distant, and Gu Yan had considered pushing her. But whenever he pressed her, she would complain of chest pain, followed by headaches. She refused help from palace maids or eunuchs, insisting that only Gu Yan massage her. After tormenting him, she would send him out before dawn to buy candied fruits.
Her temper had grown recently, and she knew how to feign pitifulness to manipulate him. For a time, even the formidable Grand Tutor Gu was at a loss, not daring to push too hard.
Yan Xuerui smiled, choosing not to correct the flaws in Gu Yan’s words. Like a game of chess, they tested each other’s advances and retreats, adding a touch of intrigue to their otherwise mundane days.
She blew dry the ink on the painting, carefully rolling it up, and said, "Perfect. Yesterday, Lady Wu came to the palace and mentioned several new shops in the East Market. There are bamboo pinwheels that whirr when they spin, sugar figurines, and bamboo frames wrapped with colorful threads that can even hold candles. Children adore them."
As she spoke, her eyes shone dark and bright. Perhaps due to the lingering effects of the "Beauty’s Makeup" in her system, or perhaps because she had never endured hardship and was meticulously cared for, Yan Xuerui, now past thirty-five, showed no signs of age. The wisps of hair at her temples framed her porcelain-white face, her brows like distant mountains, her eyes bright and teeth gleaming.
Gu Yan was displeased that she had summoned those "ladies" to the palace again. He was enough for her; at most, he could tolerate those "little debtors" stealing her attention. But seeing her looking so lively, her eyes filled with starlight, he couldn’t bring himself to refuse.
His taut jaw relaxed slightly, and he said nothing more, only commenting, "The new emperor is young. The palace should maintain solemnity. It’s best to summon fewer outsiders."
"Understood. I know my limits. I’m changing clothes. Are you coming?"
In the past, at the marquis's residence, she had felt constrained under Gu Yan’s watchful eye. In the palace, burdened with duties, she had no mind for outings. But recently, with more leisure, Princess Changle often went incognito to experience the lively atmosphere of the common world.
Of course, Gu Yan would never let her go alone; her question was superfluous. Despite his dissatisfaction, Gu Yan followed closely behind Yan Xuerui, his steps half a pace behind hers, his back straight, each stride perfectly timed to fall into the space where her foot had just been.
The first brick she stepped on, his boot sole pressed half an inch behind her—no more, no less—just enough to envelop her slender figure in his shadow.
***
Pinwheels from the East Market, flour figurines from West Street, glass bead strings from the South Market, bamboo dragonflies from the North Market... Yan Xuerui collected several boxes of "treasures" for Zhilu and her future grandchild. She and Gu Yan had stood together before a wonton stall, he shielding her from the draft wind. They had watched street performers swallow swords, walked hand in hand along the moat. From sheer silk dresses to plain padded jackets, then to brocade robes and fox furs, when the imperial city was once again blanketed in heavy snow, Yan Xuerui’s collected "treasures" finally found their use.
The Western Rong prince consort returned to the capital with his wife and daughter, bringing a national decree for generations of friendly trade with Great Zhou.
To save time on the road, the party traveled light, without fanfare. By the time Yan Xuerui received the news, her eldest son and his family had already reached the central gate. It was just past noon, and Gu Yan was accompanying her during her noon rest—an "accompaniment" tinged with intimacy, given the winter cold outside and the warm heated floors inside, where comfort bred desire.
"So soon?"
Yan Xuerui sat up abruptly, her snowy cheeks flushed, her dark hair disheveled, the brocade quilt slipping from her shoulders. Beside her delicate collarbone and snow-white neck were large red marks.
She said, "Why wasn’t I told earlier? Stop them... no... quickly invite them to the side hall."
As she spoke, she frantically grabbed her scattered clothes. Her trembling fingers fumbled with the buttons, growing more frantic in her haste, not noticing she had fastened them wrong. She knelt to get off the bed, stepping into her shoes.
"Why the panic?" Gu Yan’s voice was hoarse with satisfaction. He reached out, grasped her ankle, and pulled her back inside, drawing the bed curtains to prevent outsiders from seeing her disheveled state.
He said, "From the central gate to Changle Palace, it takes at least a quarter of an hour. There’s no hurry."
Gu Yan reached out to adjust her crooked collar, leisurely and completely unperturbed.
His calmness somewhat reassured Yan Xuerui. She took a deep breath, pulled out her hairpin to tidy her loose bun, still worried, "I can’t meet anyone like this. If I take time to freshen up, I’m afraid it’ll be too late."
After more than a year, she was finally seeing her eldest son, meeting her daughter-in-law for the first time, and her grandchild. How could she, a grandmother, appear with a flushed, spring-like face? How could she face her son and daughter-in-law afterward?
Yan Xuerui was deeply anxious, yet she couldn’t blame Gu Yan entirely. After all, it took two to tango; her half-hearted resistance had led to this awkward situation.
"If it’s too late, let them wait," Gu Yan said indifferently. She could take as long as she wanted to freshen up. She was their mother; why should the elder accommodate the younger?
When it came to the children, Yan Xuerui could never be as detached as Gu Yan. She hurriedly put on her embroidered shoes, called several palace maids to help her with her makeup, applied fine pearl powder to cover her flushed cheeks and the marks behind her ears. Gu Yan loved nibbling her earlobes, so she chose large, round pearl earrings to conceal them. By the time she was done, Gu Yan had already taken his seat at the head of the room and received the bows from their son and daughter-in-law.
Yan Xuerui hurried to the side hall, where she saw Gu Minglan dressed in a black robe, his face slightly tanned and sharply defined. The youthful innocence had faded from his features, replaced by a resolute maturity. Upon seeing her, he bowed respectfully, his voice deeper than before.
"Mother."
Beside him, A Yina curtseyed. She wore a snow-white fox fur coat, her hair not styled in the customary Great Zhou fashion but woven into loose braids hanging by her neck, the ends adorned with delicate silver bells. Her skin was snow-white, her nose bridge high, and her blue eyes as clear and bright as lake water.
She wasn’t fluent in Great Zhou language. When she looked up and saw Yan Xuerui, her pupils widened in shock. She tugged at Gu Minglan’s sleeve and exclaimed, "Princess-Mother... even more beautiful than in the paintings! Truly, she puts flowers to shame and stands out like a crane among chickens!"
Yan Xuerui was initially startled by this exotic beauty, but upon hearing her awkward official language and straightforward, cheerful words, she couldn’t help but smile warmly, reaching out to help her up.
"Good child, please, no need for formalities."
As she spoke, she casually slipped the translucent emerald jade bracelet from her own wrist and onto A Yina’s wrist.
A Yina, unfamiliar with Central Plains customs, widened her beautiful eyes and looked to her husband, flustered. Gu Minglan gently patted the back of her hand to reassure her, saying, "Since Mother is giving it to you, you should accept it."
He then turned to Yan Xuerui and said, "She is still inexperienced. I’ll instruct her later, Mother. Please do not take offense."
"Look at what you're saying," Yan Xuerui replied gently, with a tone of solemnity. "A married life depends on mutual respect and support. Where does 'teaching her a lesson' come into it?"
"You must not learn your father's awful temper."
Gu Minglan paused briefly, then gave a soft "Mnh." After hesitating for a moment, he asked, "Mother, have you... been well lately?"
But what he really wanted to ask was: Have you and Father been well?
Having faced life-and-death situations and followed A Yina to Western Rong to seize power and the throne, the hardships he endured could not be easily summed up in a few words. Minglan had changed a great deal.
Back in Great Zhou, basking in the glory bestowed upon him by his father, Senior Tutor Gu, he was born to privilege and was arrogant to the bone. No matter whether she was a princess or a noblewoman, if he took a liking to her, she was to be his and submit to his rule.
He stubbornly tried to mold A Yina into the gentle and virtuous woman he desired, much like his mother. But A Yina was different from Yan Xuerui back in the day—she came from a prominent background, was a skilled archer and rider, and had a fiery temper. If provoked, she would not hesitate to draw her precious sword and confront her young lord head-on.
That was the way in Western Rong, where both men and women proved themselves from the saddle.
This greatly troubled the young Gu Minglan. In his eyes, his father and mother were the model of "conjugal affection." He took after his father, so why couldn’t she become like "Mother"?
Minglan could not bring himself to be harsh with her. A Yina’s nature was as fierce as fire and fundamentally unchangeable. As they fought and struggled, during a time when he was trapped in enemy territory, she—pregnant with their child—risked everything to rescue him. In that moment, Minglan suddenly saw things clearly.
To hell with it, he thought. This was the woman he loved. Why try to force her?
At that moment, he suddenly thought of his mother again. He had memories from a very young age, and her unhappy looks and her weeping were etched in his memory. Later, as his mother and father mended their relationship, he forced himself not to dwell on the past. It was over, and one must live in the present.
But if things were so good, why did Mother want to divorce Father?
When he left the capital, he repeatedly urged his mother not to go through with the divorce.
Had what he done really been right?
...
The dangers of the battlefield left no room for Gu Minglan to overthink. Later, when Kunmo successfully seized the throne, A Yina’s belly was already round. He stayed by her side until she gave birth, and she bore him a soft, pudgy little daughter with the same azure blue eyes as her own. When Minglan held her, the young general who’d never known defeat felt utterly helpless for the first time.
The infant in his arms was soft yet felt weighty in his arms—he had become a man like his father before him. Minglan’s heart melted. When he picked up a brush to write a letter home, he thought of his mother once again.
He loved his daughter, his own flesh and blood, born of the woman he loved. He also loved his mother, the woman who had given birth to him and raised him.
Both were equally important to him. He dared not imagine what he would do if one day his daughter grew into a beautiful, graceful, and innocent young woman only to encounter someone like his father... He would kill.
Thanks to Gu Yan, the "story of their separation" between Princess Changle and Senior Tutor Gu had spread widely among the people. Out of curiosity, A Yina dragged him along to listen to the tales, asking him whether they were true. Minglan remained silent. He thought: In truth, Mother had never been happy during her time in the Marquis’ estate.
Rumors were not to be trusted, especially since he was well aware of his father’s methods—just how much he had orchestrated was anyone’s guess. The first thing he asked upon seeing Yan Xuerui was: "Have you been well lately?"
If not, your son is here for you.
He had become a father and a man in his own right. He no longer saw Gu Yan as the sole and unopposable authority figure. He, too, could be his mother’s shelter from the storm.
Hearing this, Yan Xuerui smiled and, as she often did in the past, reached out to pat his shoulder. But catching sight of her daughter-in-law watching curiously beside him, she aborted the gesture and let her arm drop. Her Minglan had grown up—he was master of his own household now. She could no longer treat him like a child.
"With me by your mother’s side, how could she be anything but well?"
Gu Yan’s deep voice cut into their "motherly kindness and filial piety." There’s separation between men and women—standing so close to his mother was disrespectful and lacking in filial piety! His fingers lightly rapped his knuckles on the table, and Yan Xuerui knew he was growing impatient.
She shot him a glare, then comforted the young couple—mainly her daughter-in-law—saying, "That’s just his temper. Don’t you be scared."
Despite her words, she still walked over and sat down beside Gu Yan. Gu Yan curled his fingers and slid a cup of tea, cooled to the perfect temperature, over to her. She naturally picked it up, took a small sip, and said to Minglan, "I am well."
Her voice was gentle, her brow relaxed as she spoke to Minglan, "The life I lead now is the best I could ever have."
"Once you start a family, things are different. You should focus more on your wife and child, and not always worry about your mother."
Yan Xuerui sighed softly to herself. Minglan was married with a child, and Ming Wei was soon to be wed. One after the other, her son and daughter were moving away from her. These two were different from Zhilu—if Zhilu carried a shred of the tenderness she held for Gu Yan, Minglan and Ming Wei had been her only solace in her moments of despair.
It was just as Gu Yan had said: children and grandchildren would each have their own fortunes. One day, even Zhilu would no longer need his mother’s embrace.
She loved all three of her children, but just as chicks eventually flee the coop, though her heart was reluctant, she felt little sorrow.
She glanced sideways at Gu Yan, whose gaze remained fixed on her, and said helplessly, "You should smile. That cold expression of yours looks fierce—don’t scare my little granddaughter later."
She thought to herself: With a fearsome presence like Gu Yan around, she would never be free of his persistent attentions, but she would also never have to fear loneliness.
Gu Yan’s eyes darkened, and the corners of his lips lifted in a faint, insincere smile that sent a shiver down A Yina’s spine despite the warmth of the heated palace. She gently tugged at Minglan’s sleeve, her azure blue eyes filled with innocence and unease.
The princess of Western Rong, who dared to venture alone into Great Zhou, feared neither heaven nor earth, yet meeting her in-laws made her inevitably nervous. Her mother-in-law was as gentle and kind as her young lord had described, but she was so youthful—was this some kind of sorcery from Great Zhou? And her father-in-law—Senior Tutor Gu, who had been famous throughout the land since his youth—shared eight-tenths of his features with her husband, but his aura was entirely different. The authority accumulated over years of experience made her breath catch and her hairs stand on end with just a faint glance from him.
Such a beautiful mother-in-law, such a terrifying father-in-law.
She wanted to go home to Western Rong, now.
"Alright, it’s been a long journey. There will be time to catch up later. First, go freshen up and change. Junior Minister Su and Ming Wei will be arriving at the palace soon, and we’ll all dine together."
In the end, it was the beautiful and understanding mother-in-law who saved the situation. Yan Xuerui gently defused the tension. The little granddaughter she had been longing to meet had fallen asleep on the journey. To avoid disturbing her rest, Minglan had settled her in the warming room. Coincidentally, her third uncle, the new emperor, had only recently been weaned, so there were wet nurses and a cradle right there in the palace.
She headed to the warming room to see her granddaughter, with Gu Yan following step-for-step with her. A Yina watched from afar as her father-in-law turned slightly to shield her mother-in-law from the cold wind. Her mother-in-law, as graceful as the "elegant and refined lady" from ancient texts, was mostly hidden behind her father-in-law—all A Yina could see was the hem of her skirt. Soon, their figures disappeared into the vast snowy landscape, leaving behind two sets of close-set footprints.
"So the storytellers under the Tianqiao Bridge were actually telling the truth," A Yina murmured.
There were rumors among the people about Senior Tutor Gu and Princess Changle’s on-and-off relationship, filled with deep affection and attachment. She had asked her young lord about it, but he had pressed his lips together and remained silent, leading her to believe there was some hidden story.
But what she had just witnessed with her own eyes was a natural tacit understanding between her father-in-law and mother-in-law, even more clingy than the rumors suggested.
She turned to Minglan beside her, hooked her arm through his, and complained, "You should’ve told me! I nearly made a fool of myself in front of your father and mother."
Minglan gave a bitter laugh. Before returning, he had even considered taking his mother to Western Rong with him. But his mother had told him she was well.
This time, she meant it sincerely.
"It’s alright. Mother is gentle and kind—she won’t mind," he reassured his anxious wife in a soft voice.
A Yina shook her head and subtly pointed toward the larger footprints in the snow. She wasn’t afraid of her mother-in-law, but the stern father-in-law intimidated her.
"And he won’t care either," Minglan stated with certainty.
His father’s heart was vast enough to encompass the world, yet also narrow enough to hold only his mother.
He advised her, "You... should try not to look at Mother too much. Keep your distance from her, and you’ll be fine."
A Yina stared at him in astonishment. "Huh?"
The backstory was too complicated for Minglan to explain to A Yina just then. He continued, "I have a younger sister named Ming Wei. She’s lively and lovely—I think the two of you will get along well..."
"..."
Today, the Changle Palace is hosting a family banquet. The footsteps of the palace servants grow more frequent, and the warm aroma of cooking smoke drifts up from the direction of the imperial kitchen, adding a layer of hustle and bustle to the cold and solemn palace grounds. A sleek golden canary hops and flutters across the glazed tiles, singing loudly with its wings flapping, waking the little ancestor sleeping in the Qian Yuan Hall. His round eyes open wide, and with a "wah," his cry echoes through the halls. Soon after, an infant’s wail echoes from the nursery, where Yan Xuerui gently soothes the child while Gu Yan summons the wet nurse in a low, firm voice.
In the midst of all this commotion, a lively young woman’s voice calls out from outside the hall: "Mother, I’m here—"
The day's real excitement was just getting started.
---End of Main Text