Madam Qi was taken aback.
“Changfeng’s… widow?”
Feng Qingsui nodded and repeated the “story” she had told Ji Changqing earlier.
“…I was just discussing with Second Master the matter of marrying his spirit tablet.”
She spoke as if Ji Changqing had already agreed to it.
Ji Changqing: “…”
“So you once saved Changfeng.”
At the mention of Ji Changfeng, a flicker of grief passed through Madam Qi’s eyes.
“What a pity he still lost his life on the battlefield, wasting all your efforts.”
“How could it be a waste? In the Battle of Changyi, without the general, how could we have routed Cai Guo like rats and wolves, making them dare not invade the borders of Xi Kingdom for the next twenty years?”
Feng Qingsui wore a proud expression.
“The people of Xi Kingdom will remember him, future generations will revere him, and he will live forever in people’s hearts, leaving a lasting legacy.”
Madam Qi murmured, “Live forever in people’s hearts…”
“Yes,” Feng Qingsui nodded. “I once heard my master say that a person dies twice: once when they stop breathing, and once when they are forgotten by everyone.”
“Even if a person stops breathing, as long as someone in this world still remembers them, they will never truly disappear—they will live on forever.”
After saying this, she suddenly thought of her sister, and her eyes grew moist.
Hearing these words, the gloom that had lingered in Madam Qi’s heart for days dissolved into tears, streaming down her face.
She smiled through her tears. “You’re right. Changfeng is still alive.”
Fu Momo handed her a handkerchief.
She took it and, seeing tears also flowing down Feng Qingsui’s face, reached out to wipe them away.
“Meeting such a loyal and righteous young woman like you is a blessing for our Ji family,” Madam Qi sighed. “But you’re still so young, with decades of life ahead of you. Don’t spend your days guarding a spirit tablet.”
Feng Qingsui shook her head. “In life, I belong to the general; in death, I am his ghost. In this lifetime, I want no one but him.”
“Listen to me, don’t be foolish.”
Madam Qi spoke earnestly.
“I’ve walked this path myself, and I know how bitter it is. If not for my two children, I wouldn’t have endured it.”
“Since you’ve been through it yourself, you must understand how I feel. I wish I could have followed the general.”
“But thinking of how he said his greatest regret was spending so little time with you and being unable to serve you, I came to the capital to fulfill his filial duties on his behalf, so he may rest without regrets.”
Feng Qingsui lowered her head, choking back sobs.
Madam Qi was overwhelmed with sorrow and hugged her, weeping bitterly.
After crying for a while, she wiped her tears and said, “Good child, then stay. I’ll consult the almanac right away and choose an auspicious day…”
“Ahem—”
Ji Changqing watched as, in less than a quarter of an hour, Feng Qingsui went from being a stranger to his mother to sharing heartfelt words with her. Once again, he gained a new appreciation for her persuasive skills.
His vigilance grew even stronger.
“Mother, Miss Feng saved my elder brother and then saved you. She has shown us immense kindness. How can we repay kindness with harm? A ghost marriage would ruin this young woman’s life. You should adopt her as your goddaughter instead.”
“I don’t want to be anyone’s daughter!”
Feng Qingsui blurted out instinctively.
Only after speaking did she realize her mistake and looked at Madam Qi with deep grievance.
“Daughters will eventually marry. In life, I could not share a bed with the general; I only hope to share a grave with him in death. Auntie, won’t you even grant me this small wish?”
Having been a widow for half her life, Madam Qi’s own deepest longing was precisely to share a bed in life and a grave in death. Hearing this, she shot her son a sharp glare.
“You don’t even have a female mount by your side, how could you understand a young woman’s heart! She wants to remain a widow for your elder brother, not for you—why do you care so much!”
After saying this, she instructed Fu Momo: “Bring the calendar.”
Ji Changqing: “…”
After Fu Momo brought the calendar over, Feng Qingsui apologized.
“Momo, I pushed you in a moment of urgency earlier—please don’t mind it. The situation just now really wasn’t suitable for patting the back. Are you hurt?”
Fu Momo shook her head. “This old servant is fine. May I ask why patting the back wasn’t allowed?”
Madam Qi and Ji Changqing both cast puzzled glances.
“When a foreign object is stuck in the throat, patting the back can easily have the opposite effect. Instead, you should do as I did just now—wrap your arms around the patient, make a fist with one hand and place it three fingers above the navel, then cover the fist with the other hand…”
Feng Qingsui had Wuhua cooperate and demonstrated once.
“…Like this, using abdominal pressure, the foreign object can be expelled.”
After hearing this, Madam Qi and Ji Changqing remained silent for a long time.
Fu Momo suddenly understood: “So that’s how it should be done. If only we had known earlier, back then the eldest young master wouldn’t have…”
Realizing she had spoken out of turn, she quickly stopped.
Madam Qi picked up the thread: “Yes, if we had known earlier, Changfeng wouldn’t have suffered so terribly when he choked on a glutinous rice ball back then.”
Ji Changqing fell silent.
He glanced up at Feng Qingsui and sighed inwardly.
Forget it. Whether she falsely claimed credit for saving my life in Wucheng or not, her saving Mother this time is genuine. If she wants to marry holding a memorial tablet, then let her.
If she truly has ill intentions, I can handle it.
After flipping through the calendar, Madam Qi selected two dates: “Tomorrow and the last day of the month are both suitable.”
Feng Qingsui chose tomorrow without hesitation.
Madam Qi hesitated: “Won’t tomorrow be too rushed? There won’t be enough time to prepare the betrothal gifts…”
“Aunt, let’s keep everything simple. I haven’t prepared a dowry either,” Feng Qingsui said. “Tomorrow, I’ll wear mourning clothes to the ancestral hall and hold Changfeng’s memorial tablet during the wedding ceremony.”
“That won’t do—it’s too unfair to you.”
“I don’t feel wronged.”
Feng Qingsui spent some effort persuading Madam Qi to keep things simple.
After the meal, she returned to the inn with her maid, Wuhua.
Wuhua hadn’t eaten her fill at dinner and asked the innkeeper for two large pork knuckles.
Feng Qingsui chuckled softly: “You’ll have to endure some hardship later. The household may have to eat vegetarian for a while, so you’ll have to sneak meat.”
This girl was someone she had rescued from a river two years ago. When she woke up, she had lost all her memories. Because she loved eating pork belly, she simply called herself “Wuhua.”
“It’s fine.” Wuhua gnawed on the pork knuckle. “I can climb walls—I can go out to buy meat anytime.”
Feng Qingsui smiled.
The night wind was cold, so she retired early.
Listening to the howling wind outside the window, she gradually fell asleep.
In her dream, in a pitch-black darkness, her own small, icy hands were enveloped by another pair of cold hands, warm breath blowing onto them.
“You won’t be cold soon.”
A gentle voice whispered in her ear.
“Big sister roasted a sweet potato—it’ll be ready soon.”
She waited a long time but never smelled the sweet fragrance of the sweet potato.
The darkness shattered, revealing a young woman lying in a pool of blood, holding a deceased child of three or four in her arms, her face pale and breath gone.
“Big sister!”
She abruptly opened her eyes.
Only the dark canopy of the bed met her gaze.
From afar came the “dong—dong” of the timekeeping bell.
She got up and lit a lamp, rummaged through her luggage for a bamboo painting tube, opened it, poured out a scroll, and slowly unrolled it.
The dim yellow lamplight illuminated one frame after another.
A woman embroidered before a desk, children frolicked chasing butterflies, a woman teased a child, a man played the qin by the water…
In the final frame, a family of five stood on a bustling long street, looking up at fireworks.
Outside the painting, a line of delicate small regular script read: “Though you are not here, Xiao Yu insisted on including you. When you return to the capital next year, this painting will become real.”
A teardrop splashed onto the character for “real.”
Sister, I have returned, but all of you are gone.