After a whole night of snow, it finally stopped before dawn. Zhou Song opened the door to find the world outside dressed in a dazzling layer of white. Judging by the sky, it seemed there wouldn’t be any more snow, so he went out to clear the snow from the courtyard and entrance to make it easier to go in and out.

When he returned, Shen Qingzhu had already come out of the house. He looked well-rested and bright-eyed, showing he had slept soundly. Upon seeing him, Shen Qingzhu called out “Husband” with a gentle smile.

For a moment, Zhou Song felt a bit dazed, memories of their first meeting coming to mind. Back then, there had been a certain distance between them, and Shen Qingzhu had looked frail, though his gaze was sharp and piercing, striking directly into Zhou Song’s heart. At that time, he never would have imagined that he would one day marry this person and bring him home.

Now, Shen Qingzhu’s health had improved, and he had gained a little weight. His brows softened with a gentle smile, making him appear warm and approachable.

Zhou Song gazed at him, feeling his own heart turn to mush, filling him with a desire to treat Shen Qingzhu even better, to keep him in this tender state forever.

A rare smile appeared on Zhou Song’s usually stoic face, and he responded, moving toward Kun Ze.

“What would you like to eat?” Zhou Song leaned the shovel he had been using against the wall, brushing the snowflakes off his coat.

Shen Qingzhu tilted his head in thought. “How about some hot noodle soup? That’ll warm me up.”

“Alright.” Zhou Song nodded and turned to head to the kitchen.

“Husband,” Shen Qingzhu called after him.

“What is it?” Zhou Song turned back with a hint of curiosity.

Shen Qingzhu walked up and gently took hold of his arm. “After breakfast, let’s go visit Father and Mother, shall we?”

Zhou Song paused, realizing that since their marriage, they hadn’t gone to pay their respects to his parents. It was an oversight on his part. However, with yesterday’s snowfall, the roads were likely difficult to travel.

Seeing his hesitation, Shen Qingzhu added, “Tomorrow is New Year’s Eve. We should at least go wish them a good year.”

Hearing this, Zhou Song paused again, his expression softening. “Alright.”

Shen Qingzhu smiled and went off to prepare the offerings for the visit.

Something seemed to come to Zhou Song’s mind, and he called out, “Qingzhu.”

Shen Qingzhu turned to him, his eyes still holding a hint of a smile. “Hmm?”

Zhou Song opened his mouth but found he couldn’t get the words out. In the end, he just pressed his lips together and asked, “Do you want egg noodles or shredded pork noodles?”

“Egg noodles, please. Something light in the morning.”

Zhou Song nodded. “Alright.”

He watched as Shen Qingzhu went back inside, letting out a quiet sigh. In truth, he wanted to ask about his in-laws, whether there was a memorial tablet for them. He, too, wished to pay his respects. But since they had met, Kun Ze rarely spoke of his family. There were likely hidden sorrows that he didn’t want to recall; otherwise, a young master like him wouldn’t have settled in a small village like this.

Zhou Song was afraid that asking would only bring up painful memories for Shen Qingzhu, so he decided against it.

After breakfast, they took a basket of offerings and set out. Along the way, they occasionally passed villagers clearing snow from their doorsteps. Some children were throwing snowballs, their laughter echoing far and wide, with adults calling after them to slow down and be careful not to fall.

When they reached the foot of the mountain, Zhou Song took Shen Qingzhu’s hand and walked ahead to clear a path for him. The mountain path was still covered in snow, and no one had cleared it. Each step he took made a faint crunch, leaving a trail of footprints.

Shen Qingzhu, feeling playful, started stepping into Zhou Song’s footprints, following closely behind him.

Zhou Song turned back to see him and smiled faintly. For the first time, he felt relaxed walking up this path, as though he were visiting his parents rather than going to pay respects to their graves.

He tightened his grip slightly, making sure Shen Qingzhu didn’t slip, and continued leading him forward at a steady pace.

Few villagers would come up to the mountain to pay respects at this time, so they were alone on the trail, surrounded by a silent, snow-covered landscape that was both serene and captivating.

As they continued upwards, graves began appearing here and there, each marking the resting place of a departed soul.

Shen Qingzhu’s expression turned a bit dazed as he thought back to his hurried departure from the capital. He hadn’t even been able to properly collect his parents’ remains—their final arrangements had all been handled by Lord Wen.

Seeing his dazed expression, Zhou Song thought he might be afraid, so he released Shen Qingzhu’s hand to wrap an arm around his shoulders. “Don’t be scared. I’m here.”

Shen Qingzhu snapped out of his reverie at Zhou Song’s touch, looking up with a reassuring smile. “I’m fine.”

They arrived at his parents’ graves, and Zhou Song set the basket down, brushing the snow from the headstone. Shen Qingzhu gently held his arm, giving him a calming look. Zhou Song shook his head slightly. “I’m alright.”

He was no longer the boy who couldn’t face his parents’ passing. Now that Shen Qingzhu was with him, his heart felt more at peace.

Seeing that he was truly calm, Shen Qingzhu smiled and knelt down to take out the offerings and incense from the basket.

Zhou Song knelt beside him, clearing the snow in front of the grave to make space for the offerings. Together, they set everything out, lit the incense, and placed it reverently before the headstone. Zhou Song spread a cloth from the basket on the ground in front of Shen Qingzhu. “The ground’s cold and damp. Don’t catch a chill.”

Without a word, Shen Qingzhu knelt obediently on the cloth, lighting paper money with the candle and placing it by the headstone.

“Father, Mother, I’m married now. This is my husband, Shen Qingzhu, a Kun Ze…” Zhou Song said as he burned the paper money, “He’s a good person, and your son… is very happy with him.”

Feeling a bit shy saying all this with Shen Qingzhu right there, Zhou Song kept his eyes on the burning paper, avoiding his gaze.

Shen Qingzhu didn’t shy away, instead watching him with a gentle smile.

Noticing his gaze, Zhou Song’s ears flushed red, and he steadied his breathing, continuing, “The house has been refurbished, and we’ve even got chickens and a cow. From now on, we’ll live well together…”

He burned the last piece of paper money, looking at the gravestone. “If you know this from the afterlife, you can rest easy now.”

His mother had been worried about him even on her deathbed, afraid he would be lonely. It had been unfilial of him, not allowing her to be at ease all these years. Thankfully, now he finally had someone to keep him company.

After Zhou Song finished, Shen Qingzhu also turned toward the grave and spoke, “Father, Mother, I’m Shen Qingzhu. Today, I came to pay my respects to you both.”

Then, looking at Zhou Song with a warm expression, he continued, “Your son is a very good person. Marrying him has been my good fortune.”

Zhou Song’s eyelashes fluttered, his chest filling with warmth, and he reached out to hold Shen Qingzhu’s hand.

Shen Qingzhu looked down, not pulling away, but instead holding his hand tighter. Facing the grave, he continued, “I will stay by his side, and we’ll support each other. Please, rest assured.”

With that, he bowed in respect.

Zhou Song bowed alongside him, and when they rose, they shared a smile.

The ground was cold, so Zhou Song held Shen Qingzhu’s hand, helping him stand. He gently squeezed Shen Qingzhu’s fingers. “Thank you for coming with me to visit my parents.”

“No need for thanks,” Shen Qingzhu swayed their joined hands slightly, smiling. “You are my husband, after all.”

“Mm.” Zhou Song pressed Shen Qingzhu’s palm to his cheek, brushing against it lightly, his heart brimming with contentment. “Tomorrow’s New Year’s Eve. Aunt Qian mentioned we should have dinner at their place. What do you think?”

Since his parents had passed, he’d usually spent New Year’s with Aunt Qian’s family. By right, he should now celebrate with Shen Qingzhu alone, as they had their own little family. But Aunt Qian thought the first year of marriage should be lively, as the holiday was meant for family reunion.

Shen Qingzhu agreed, “Sounds good. Shall we invite Aunt Wu to join us as well?”

“Of course,” Zhou Song nodded. It wouldn’t feel complete without Aunt Wu. “We can stop by on the way back and let her know.”

“Alright.” Shen Qingzhu smiled, his eyes curving. “Why don’t we have lunch there today? I miss Aunt Wu’s cooking.”

Zhou Song had no objections. He picked up the cloth and the now-empty basket, saying, “Then let’s go.”

Shen Qingzhu glanced at the graves. “Not saying goodbye to Father and Mother?”

Zhou Song looked back at the graves, shaking his head. “No. They know I’m happy, and that’s all they need.”

Taking Shen Qingzhu’s hand, he added, “Most parents wish for nothing more than this. So, if we live happily, they’ll be at peace.”

Shen Qingzhu paused, watching him walk ahead with a smile. “You’re right.”

Hand in hand, they walked down the mountain. Halfway down, Zhou Song asked if they should stop home to bring something as a gesture, considering the holiday was near.

Shen Qingzhu shook his head. “No need. Today’s just a casual visit. We’ll prepare properly for the New Year.”

With that, they headed directly to Wu Lanshu’s house. Her doorstep was neat, showing she’d been out early to clear the snow.

Wu Lanshu was delighted by their unannounced visit and ushered them into the warm room with a lit stove, bustling around to make tea for them.

After the cold trek, Shen Qingzhu pressed his chilly hand to his cheek, sitting close to the stove to warm up, grateful Zhou Song had held his hand all the way, sharing his warmth.

Zhou Song gently touched Shen Qingzhu’s cold cheek, frowning. “We shouldn’t have climbed the mountain in this weather.”

“Don’t worry,” Shen Qingzhu smiled, shaking his head.

He checked for any sign of frostbite and felt reassured. “Make sure to apply some balm when we get home, just in case.”

“Alright, I’ll listen to you.” Shen Qingzhu didn’t argue.

Wu Lanshu returned with the tea, pouring for them. “Where did you go on such a cold day?”

Shen Qingzhu took a sip and smiled, “We went to pay respects to Father and Mother.”

Wu Lanshu paused, understanding he was talking about Zhou Song’s parents, and nodded, a trace of sentiment in her eyes. “Yes, with the New Year approaching, it’s the right thing to do.”

After a moment, she opened her mouth to say something but ultimately held back.

Setting down his teacup, Shen Qingzhu said, “We’re staying for lunch. It’s been a while since we’ve tasted your cooking, so please make us something good.”

Hearing they would be staying, Wu Lanshu beamed, noting the time and immediately heading to the kitchen to start preparing.

Shen Qingzhu didn’t stop her, watching her leave before turning to Zhou Song. “Do you want to visit my parents’ graves?”

Zhou Song, who had been sipping his tea, froze. He looked up to see Kun Ze gazing at him warmly.

Swallowing his tea, he nodded. “Yes, I’d like that.”