Zanying had heard of Grand Marshal Wei’s name before.

However, it was unlikely that anyone would introduce this name with the same tone, laced with a hidden but unexpressed arrogance in that voice, like ice shattering into jade.

The kind of arrogance that came with ambition.

A thin layer of sweat appeared under Zanying’s bangs as she lowered her gaze and slowly said, “Fu greets Grand Marshal Wei. I couldn’t find the time to pay my respects in the palace earlier today, and I thank the Grand Marshal for his kindness.”

Hearing how she addressed him, Wei Yu’s eyes focused on her.

He reached up to adjust the fur wrapped around his collar, his pale, slender fingers flinching as if chilled by the wind, before retreating back into the dark fox-fur cloak.

“I’ve heard about what happened in the palace. What are your plans next?”

He asked directly, and if it weren’t for the evident indifference and weariness in his voice, it would have sounded almost like an elder expressing concern for a younger generation.

Zanying found her impression of this man strange.

Her first feeling was one of danger, yet after he called her “Anu,” she felt an inexplicable sense of familiarity.

She regretted not asking Uncle Du about him beforehand, to understand what kind of person the Grand Marshal was, and his connection to her parents.

That would have been wiser before meeting him.

But what did he mean by asking what her plans were?

Zanying did have some plans.

Announcing the cancellation of her engagement to the Crown Prince today was just the first step.

But she knew better than to share too much with someone she hardly knew.

So, she replied vaguely, “I appreciate the Grand Marshal’s concern. I’ll take things one step at a time.”

Her words clearly distanced herself, and it was palpable.

Wei Yu’s already tense brows tightened further.

The next moment, as if resisting some inner force, he made an effort to relax his expression and spoke softly, “My elder sister and Tang Su, your mother, were very close. Your mother is like a half-sister to me. You don’t need to fear me.”

He called her mother “sister”?

The absence of familial affection stirred something within Zanying, warming her chest and easing her tension slightly.

She murmured, “I’m not afraid.”

As soon as she finished speaking, Zanying was startled to see the Grand Marshal stand up, his shadow like a sweeping wind bringing darkness to the room as he approached her.

When seated, his demeanor was lax and indifferent, like a treasured sword sheathed or a drawn bow at rest, his imposing aura concealed within his soft cloak.

Even so, his presence was enough to inspire quiet fear.

But when he stood, his height far exceeded Zanying’s expectations.

His black cloak hung down to the tops of his deerskin boots, and with each step, glimpses of armor could be seen beneath.

The wind that came from his cloak was chilling.

Even with four blazing charcoal braziers in the room, they could not warm the bone-deep cold radiating from him.

Zanying took a step back, straining to look up at his face to gauge his mood and decide how to respond.

It was then she suddenly realized that the frost on the Grand Marshal’s eyelashes was not a trick of the light.

Tiny frost particles clung to them, forming a chilling layer of white.

“Still say you’re not afraid?”

Wei Yu had no intention of frightening the young lady, so he stopped three feet away, lowered his head slightly, and blinked, “You’re sweating.”

“It’s from the heat,” Zanying replied, fully aware of the sweat on her temples.

She had always been prone to sweating, especially with the charcoal burning indoors, making it hard not to feel warm.

She finished speaking instinctively but caught a hint of amusement in his eyes.

Zanying stood there, dazed. Was he teasing her?

The entire day had drained her—first dealing with the empress and crown prince, then seeking answers from the Fu family elders.

She was already exhausted in mind and body, and after traveling up the mountain, she was barely keeping herself together to pay this visit to Wei Yu.

Her thoughts felt sluggish.

After thinking for a long while and still not understanding, she lowered her gaze and said, “It’s late, I shouldn’t disturb the Grand Marshal’s rest. A-Fu will take her leave.”

“That won’t do.”

Zanying blinked, confused.

What wouldn’t do?

The next moment, she felt a cool sensation on her scalp.

Wei Yu had reached out and lifted her hair—loose, without even a single hairpin to hold it.

There was nothing suggestive in his gesture.

He looked down at her with a calm expression, as if he were observing a sleepy child, innocent and untouched by the world.

But that wasn’t the truth.

A flicker of the cold, murderous intent he had suppressed since her arrival flashed in his eyes.

As a seasoned general, gathering information was second nature to him.

When he said he had heard about the palace, it meant he knew everything—every detail of what had transpired at Hualin Park today.

It was her birthday, yet she had been left alone, abandoned.

Just moments after he had left.

How dare they treat her like that.

But the soft, silky strands of her hair running through his fingers forced him to suppress his anger once more.

“Today is your birthday. You’ve had your coming-of-age ceremony. Now, go and sleep.”

Wei Yu’s touch softened as he carefully gathered her long, smooth hair, tying it into a simple knot.

Though he only knew how to style men’s hair, he fashioned a male crown for her.

Then, without hesitation, he pulled the jet-black jade hairpin from his own head—a beast-headed design—his movements rough but precise, and slid it into her newly formed hair bun.

“My little girl has come of age today. May you be blessed with fortune and unending joy.”

Zanying stood there, her mind clouded in confusion.

The man before her seemed like a towering mountain, casting a shadow over her entire being.

She felt his cold fingertips, like snowflakes, brushing over her head.

She heard the four sentences, words that carried the most beautiful wishes for a young woman on the cusp of adulthood, and she stood silent for a long time.

Then, slowly, her eyes filled with tears.

She hadn’t expected to hear those words today.

The farewell she had given Fu Ze’an earlier had been a lie.

She knew from her past life how the Fu family had neglected her after her injury.

She never expected them to wish her a happy birthday.

She didn’t care for empty words of formality.

She had thought she was strong enough.

In truth, it had only been ten days since her rebirth.

In that short time, memories of her past life had flooded back, bringing with them the painful truths she had uncovered.

There were too many people who had hurt her, and for a moment, she didn’t even know where to begin grieving.

So she forced herself to remain calm, thinking over how to break off the engagement, how to leave the palace, and how to confront the Fu family.

All those once dearly hoped-for emotions—romantic love, sibling affection, familial ties—swirled together, crashing painfully into her heart, liver, and lungs.

Yet somehow, with each type of pain mingling together, they seemed to dull each other slightly, making it just bearable enough for her to keep going.

She’d heard that when a sharp sword pierces through the body, as long as it isn’t pulled out, the victim might manage to live a while longer.

But the moment it’s removed, blood would splatter, and there would be no turning back.

It turns out, those who are gravely wounded survive by temporarily blocking their injuries with the very blade that caused them.

It turns out that humans are truly pitiable creatures, capable of deceiving themselves.

But knowing this was still better than not knowing.

Awareness at least offered the chance to survive and to live better.

It was this breath of awareness that had kept Zanying going until today.

As for coming-of-age ceremonies or blessings, she had never dared to hope for them from the start.

She knew they wouldn’t come.

So they weren’t important.

These were things even she had forgotten about, yet someone still remembered.

Someone who carefully helped her tie her hair, place the hairpin, and bless her with sixteen words.

Before today, she didn’t even know him.

Zanying blinked, tilting her head up, her eyes shining brightly with a rare, genuine warmth.

For the first time, she showed a hint of sincere closeness. “Did the Grand Marshal really return to the capital just for my birthday?”

Wei Yu cleared his throat, his long, thick, frost-dampened lashes lowering slightly.

He glanced down and saw her delicate nose nearly reaching his chin.

“What else would it be?”

He stepped back lightly, retreating into the glow of the candles, and carefully observed the girl who had grown tall and graceful under the mountain-and-river screen. “The coming-of-age ceremony is a major event in one’s life. Among those still alive, I am the closest to you, Anu. How could I not come?”

Even after leaving the hall, Zanying’s heart was still overflowing with a vague, unplaceable sense of gratitude, making her feel somewhat lightheaded.

Unable to resist, she lifted her fingers and cautiously touched the corner of the hairpin on her head.

The midnight rain was gradually easing, drizzling softly as it dripped along the lotus-patterned eaves.

Standing under the veil of fine rain, Zanying turned back to see Wei Yu watching her from beyond the screen.

Upon meeting her gaze, he wrapped his cloak tighter and returned inside.

Below the steps, Manager Du, his wife, and Chun Jin were waiting with umbrellas. As soon as they saw Zanying, they hurried forward.

Manager Du’s sharp eyes noticed the change in her hairstyle.

Seeing the jade beast-head hairpin typically worn by men, he was momentarily stunned.

Then, overwhelmed with emotion, he cupped his hands and deeply bowed to Xu Shi.

Zanying felt a wave of apology wash over her for how she had suspected Wei Langjun earlier.

She had been overwhelmed with worry, leading her to misunderstand his intentions.

Xu Shi, who had served Wei Yu for many years, smiled softly as he watched the young girl’s retreating figure.

He then looked up at the sky, where the clouds were beginning to part, revealing a full moon.

“Sixteenth day, the night of the full moon,” he murmured.

He knew that on this day each month, the general preferred not to leave his residence, keeping everyone at a distance.

Yet, this time, Wei Yu had rushed back to the capital immediately after repelling an enemy raid at Sishui in the north.

Without even taking off his armor, he had come straight to Zanying’s coming-of-age ceremony.

Xu Shi recalled how the guards had trembled at the palace gates.

Had anyone tried to stop the general, Xu Shi was certain Wei Yu would not have hesitated to storm through the forbidden city, just as he had done ten years earlier, causing an uproar in the imperial harem.

Yet, after hearing a few words from Fu Zanying, Wei Yu had surprisingly left without protest.

He had even kicked the palace’s pet wolf on his way out, just to vent a little frustration.

No one could have predicted what happened next.

Shortly after his departure, the incident at Hualin Park occurred.