As Dou Zhao and Song Mo were paying their respects to Song Yichun, Dou Jichang arrived to escort Dou Zhao back home.
Song Yichun, her heart full of unspoken words, hastily gave Dou Zhao and Song Mo a few instructions before sending them on their way.
Fierce winds carried torrents of rain, surging like waves. The covered walkway appeared as if it had been washed clean, and anyone walking on it would find their shoes, socks, and hems instantly soaked through.
Everyone donned straw rain capes and wooden clogs. Dou Zhao seemed taller than usual. Suxin struggled to hold an umbrella over her.
“Let me do it myself!” Dou Zhao said with a smile, reaching for Suxin’s umbrella.
However, a pair of hands, as lustrous as fine jade, extended and took the umbrella before she could.
Dou Zhao looked up in surprise to see Song Mo’s calm face.
“I’ll take care of this,” he said nonchalantly, holding the umbrella and guiding Dou Zhao forward with a hand on her shoulder.
Chen He, who usually held Song Mo’s umbrella, stood bewildered for a moment before hurrying after them.
Dou Zhao’s height barely reached Song Mo’s earlobe. If she leaned slightly, she could rest her head on his shoulder.
In both her lives, Dou Zhao had always been the one holding umbrellas for others. When had anyone ever held one for her?
She walked alongside Song Mo in a daze, only coming to her senses when they reached the carriage.
The coachman had already set out the footstool.
Song Mo hesitated briefly before taking Dou Zhao’s hand. “Quickly, get in. Be careful not to wet your clothes,” he said, moving the umbrella to cover the footstool, intending to personally assist Dou Zhao into the carriage.
Large raindrops fell on Song Mo’s face.
Dou Zhao hurriedly ducked into the carriage.
Chen He ran over, holding a tung oil umbrella high with both hands to shield Song Mo from the wind and rain.
Song Mo handed the umbrella to Wuyi beside him and boarded the carriage.
Suxin and the others lowered their heads in surprise before filing into the carriage behind them.
Witnessing this scene, Dou Jichang’s steps faltered. He was somewhat taken aback. Everyone in the capital knew that the heir of Duke Ying’s household was of noble birth and had a cold, unapproachable demeanor. Yet, he could lower himself to care for Fourth Sister… It seemed that even the coldest of men had a tender side when it came to their wives.
He smiled and jumped into the Dou family carriage.
Raindrops pattered loudly on the carriage roof.
Dou Zhao looked at her dry clothes, feeling deeply moved. She sincerely thanked Song Mo and offered him a handkerchief to wipe the rain from his face.
Song Mo accepted the handkerchief with a smile. It was a plain white silk cloth with a cluster of wild orchids embroidered in one corner, reminding him of Dou Zhao’s flower garden.
He wiped his face. The handkerchief carried a faint fragrance, reminiscent of orchids, or perhaps jasmine. Upon closer inspection, it seemed more like the scent of tuberose, very elegant and refined.
He tucked the handkerchief into his sleeve and lifted the carriage curtain, peering through the glass window. “Would you like to visit Zhending?” he asked.
The streets were nearly empty, with fierce winds and rain lashing at fallen leaves strewn across the ground.
Dou Zhao’s eyes lit up. “Is that possible?”
“If there’s something you want to do, you can always find time for it,” he replied, turning back to her. His eyes shone like stars in the dim light of the carriage.
“You’re right!” Dou Zhao chuckled, then considered seriously for a moment.
It would be wonderful if Song Mo could accompany her to Zhending. Her grandmother could meet him and feel more at ease. However, with Song Mo’s duties in the Imperial Guard, he might not be able to get away easily. This matter would require careful planning.
“I’ll discuss it with Master Yan later,” she said with a smile. “We’ll also need to explain it to the Duke.”
Song Mo nodded, feeling a twinge of sadness. If his mother were still alive, she could have helped Dou Zhao, and returning to Zhending wouldn’t be so difficult for her.
He clenched his fist involuntarily.
Noticing his low spirits, Dou Zhao leaned towards the window as well.
“This autumn rain chills the air with each downpour,” she remarked. “Where are we now?”
In her previous life, although she had lived in the capital for over a decade, she was only familiar with the area around Fugui Fang.
“We’re on Anding Gate Street,” Song Mo replied thoughtfully, then instructed the coachman, “Take Jiangmi Lane to Jing’an Temple Alley.”
The coachman was stunned for a moment before loudly acknowledging the order and turning the carriage into a nearby small lane.
Dou Zhao asked curiously, “Why are we taking Jiangmi Lane? Is it closer to Jing’an Temple Alley?”
She thought it would be good to know the route for future visits to her family.
“It’s about half an hour longer than going via North Imperial Wall Street,” Song Mo explained with a smile. “But the Six Ministries and the Five Military Commissions are that way. You can have a look.”
Dou Zhao felt embarrassed. Song Mo was treating her like a sheltered young lady who had never ventured far from home.
Still, she was pleased that he had thoughtfully considered showing her around.
Dou Jichang, following in the carriage behind them, wore a puzzled expression.
Why had Song Mo and the others changed course to head south? They were getting further away!
He watched as their carriage slowed to a stop, lingering for a moment in front of the Hanlin Academy, Imperial Gardens Office, Imperial Medical Academy, and other government offices before slowly moving on.
He couldn’t help but ask the guard accompanying their carriage, “What are they doing?”
The guard, equally unsure, hurried to inquire and returned to report, “The Young Master is pointing out the locations of the Six Ministries to the Fourth Young Mistress!”
Dou Jichang was taken aback. “What do the Six Ministries have to do with Fourth Sister?”