Zhu er
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“Mistress, should this old one inform our people to withdraw from the Chen Clan? The betrothal set by the previous leader and Chen Clan’s head should have been annulled now by that Chen youngster. Our two houses no longer have relations with each other. “That” should have been returned by the Chen Clan youngster by now to its rightful owner. For Chen Clan to continue benefiting would not be right...” 

Fiddling with her jade cup, a crimson figure lazily glanced out the window at the scenery speeding by, a rare streak of warmth projected in her eyes as she looked down at the little dumpling currently curled up in her lap. In her hair, the blood red hue of a jade hairpin contrasted against the snowy paleness of her skin. 

Noticing the little dumpling’s discomfort, his brows knotting together, the figure softened, a gentle smile on her lips as she set her jade cup down and smoothed his hair. Instantly, an angelic smile spread across his face and his brows relaxed to her satisfaction. 

“Although godfather and Chen Clan’s previous head were sworn brothers, he has passed. Since the youngsters of Chen Clan do not wish to retain this bond, then we of Lan Manor shall not be polite. Zhu er will trouble uncle Shu to deal with this issue...Zhu er will also have to trouble uncle Shu on the matter with Chen Ming. No need to be lenient.”                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                               

Nodding his head, the old man situated across from Zhu er held a respectful yet solemn look on his face, his dark eyes like the night sky: vast, undecipherable, and yet travel worn with grief. 

“...Mistress...young master Chen Ming has been missing for several years now and back then, the fire had destroyed everything...what if…”

Unsure of how to continue with his words, uncle Shu slowly came to a halt. Everytime he recalled the events of that year, uncle Shu would feel his heart break as if the events were once again happening before his very eyes. The powerlessness...the despair...and the devastation he had felt, even now would perhaps never heal completely. 

What his mistress had felt must have been even more.  

“Chen Ming was not a weak person. As long as a body has not been found, it means he is still alive... Do not worry uncle Shu. If Chen Ming was dead, the first person who would know is that child. For now, we can only wait and abide our time for his eventual return. Only then will Chen Clan truly return to its former glory.”                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                    

Nodding his head wistfully, uncle Shu took a long sip of his tea, the weight on his shoulders lifting. Back then, only he, a mere servant had been saved while the Chen Clan head and young master Chen Ming had perished in the great fire along with the first imperial princess and her unborn child. Even now, immense guilt and shame continuously haunted him like a ghost. 

The events of that year had been devastating and left scars in the hearts of too many. The flames still haunted him along with the cries of the many souls that had been lost. 

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