The Prime Minister's Darling
Chapter 1084 - 1084 523 The couple meets (second watch)_3

Chapter 1084: 523 The couple meets (second watch)_3 Chapter 1084: 523 The couple meets (second watch)_3 “Has the snow sealed the mountain again?”

While writing a memorial to the emperor, the Minister Xing asked Xiao Hen, who was sorting through letters by his side.

Xiao Hen put away the letters, his tone as usual: “Mm, there’s been a delay in Cang Continent.”

The minister furrowed his brows and said, “Cang Continent is at least a seven-eight day journey from here, I’m afraid the army won’t make it back before the end of the year.”

The day after tomorrow is New Year’s Eve, and even if the army marches day and night, they still won’t be able to reach the Capital City in time.

Xiao Hen looked out the window at the swirling snowflakes, his expression one of contemplation.

The border pass is bitterly cold, filled with the haze of gunpowder smoke, yet the Capital City remains untouched by war. The avenues are bustling with commoners and shop vendors, a scene of flourishing prosperity.

Every household in Bishui Alley has hung red lanterns, pasted paper-cuts, and couplets on the windows, and so has their family.

This year, Lin Chengye and Fen Lin had both returned to Youzhou for the festival.

The house is filled with many, but still feels empty. Is it because they’re missing, or is it because Gu Jiao is not here?

The little monk no longer blares out loudly, Auntie has stopped inviting neighbors over for cards, and Yao Family’s youngest son, three months old, is so well-behaved, quiet, as if there’s no baby at home.

Standing on the threshold, Little Jietan stretches out his tiny arms behind him, his small body flapping out the door, his tiny head turning left and right, looking down the alleyways.

Jiaojiao.

He wants Jiaojiao.

The sound of a carriage approaches the entrance, and Little Jietan, excited, runs out on his short legs, pitter-pattering a while before realizing that it’s the bad brother-in-law who has returned.

His little face falls, disappointment evident as he says, “Why is it you?”

Xiao Hen steps down from the carriage, tapping him on the forehead: “Why shouldn’t it be me?”

“Hmph.” Little Jietan turns his face away.

“Let’s go.” Xiao Hen says to him.

Little Jietan follows reluctantly behind him, looking back every three steps.

Walking ahead, Xiao Hen knows without turning that the boy is looking for someone: “Don’t bother. Jiaojiao won’t be back today.”

Little Jietan asks, “Why?”

Xiao Hen answers, “The snow has sealed the mountain, the army can’t move.”

Little Jietan: “Then can Jiaojiao come back tomorrow?”

Xiao Hen: “I don’t know.”

Little Jietan: “What about the day after tomorrow? That’s New Year’s Eve, my birthday. Can Jiaojiao make it back in time to celebrate with me?”

Xiao Hen: “You were not born on New Year’s Eve.”

Little Jietan stamps his foot, hands on hips: “The abbot said my birthday is on New Year’s Eve! That makes it New Year’s Eve! The birthday Jiaojiao celebrates with me is New Year’s Eve!”

Xiao Hen laughs, not arguing with him but stopping to tousle his slightly longer hair: “Let’s go inside.”

The next day, bright and early, Little Jietan sits on the doorstep. He waits from dawn till dusk, becoming a little snowman, yet Jiaojiao does not return.

Gu Yan walks by and leads the little one inside.

After midnight tonight, it will be New Year’s Eve. The army is still trapped in the Snow-sealed Mountain of Cang Continent; they are destined not to return this year.

At night, the family sits in the main room, warming by the fire.

Suddenly, knocking comes from the front courtyard, causing everyone to start.

“Jiaojiao!” Little Jietan is the first to dash out.

But it isn’t Gu Jiao who comes; instead, it’s Old Lady Zhou, bringing dumplings.

“Thank you, Old Lady Zhou.” Little Jietan politely receives the basket and expresses his gratitude.

He carries the basket back to the main room.

Just as he sits down, the courtyard gate is knocked again, this time Gu Xiaoshun rushes out.

Gu Yan also wants to rush out, but being frail, he cannot outrun the others!

Disappointingly, it’s not Gu Jiao again, but Auntie Liu, who’s brought spring rolls.

When the courtyard door is knocked for the third time, it is the guard in black who rushes out, having received a killing gaze from the young master — he must either beat the others to the door or face dire consequences!

Ah, how cruel!

“…Thank you, Mr. Zhao!”

The guard in black returns to the main room with a basket of duck eggs.

Everyone sighs in unison.

The door is left ajar; Gu Jiao can enter her own house without knocking, so everyone clearly knows the visitor isn’t Gu Jiao.

But they still can’t help but hope.

“Everyone go to sleep,” Xiao Hen tells them.

With heavy hearts, they return to their respective rooms.

It seems that this New Year’s Eve, Jiaojiao really isn’t coming back.

Xiao Liulang tidies up the main room and, not feeling sleepy, heads to the study room to read for a while. It’s still the same book on Yan Country’s state affairs, which he has been reading for quite a while.

But tonight, he just cannot focus on reading.

New Year’s Eve used to be the most important day of his life, the day he came into this world and the day he “died” in that great fire.

By coincidence, both events happened at midnight.

Xiao Liulang glances at the hourglass on the wall.

Midnight approaches again.

He closes the book in his hands, stepping out into the silent courtyard. He stares at the swing that Gu Jiao had tied herself, lost in a trance.

Thump!

Something collides with the courtyard door.

Xiao Liulang snaps out of his reflection, frowning as he steps toward the door.

Just before sleeping, the maid had bolted the door. Xiao Liulang hesitates briefly before lifting the latch.

Pulling open the crimson door, a piercing blizzard gusts in.

Beyond the swirling snow, a figure in green sits slumped against the wall on the threshold, one slender leg bent, her hand resting on her knee, holding a riding crop.

Her hair is tousled by the wind and snow, her lips chapped, battered by the weather, disheveled, her appearance somewhat ragged.

She leans against the corner, gasping for breath.

Lifting her head, she gazes at him with eyes that are still clear, despite being hazed by the wind and sand. With a slight smile on her lips, she says, “Happy birthday, Officer Xiao.”