Breaking Point

Cheng Yi could find no joy in his examination results.

For seven long days, he remained at his mother's bedside, tending to her as though his presence alone could call her spirit back. He brewed her medicine, cooled her fever with damp cloths, and whispered reassurances into the stillness of her sickroom. Not once did he leave her side.

Hao Jian, though living under the same roof, was barely seen. Cheng Yi did not question it; Hao Jian had never shown much warmth toward Madam Lui.

Then, on the fourteenth morning, as the shadows softened and the first light broke across the paper windows, Madam Lui stirred.

Her eyelids fluttered. Her breath deepened. And slowly, her gaze turned toward her son.

"Ma…" Cheng Yi gasped, falling to his knees. Tears broke from him in great heaving sobs as he clutched the edge of her blanket. "Ma…"

A faint smile curved on Madam Lui's lips, pale and fragile. With trembling fingers, she reached out and brushed his cheek—still smooth from youth, now streaked with tears.

"Did you pass?" she whispered, her voice rasped and soft like parchment in the wind.

A laugh escaped him—wet and breathless, half joy, half disbelief.

"I did… the notice came yesterday," he said, gripping her hand tightly. "I passed, Ma."

Her eyes closed briefly as if in silent thanks to the heavens. A mother's pride needed no grand gesture; the look on her face said it all.

"Help me sit," she said.

He nodded quickly, gently lifting her upright and propping pillows behind her back. Then he sat at the edge of the bed, studying her as though afraid she might vanish again.

"Ma… I sent a letter to Grandfather last week," he said, his voice quieter now. "He was very concerned. He'll be arriving later today."

She gave a small chuckle, breath catching in her throat. "My baba would've fainted to see me so long in bed…"

"I didn't tell him the truth," Cheng Yi admitted. "Only that you were unwell. He would have worried himself sick."

She patted his head, affection in the gesture, though her hand still trembled. He knew her well—and she knew he had protected her in the only way a son could.

"And your Uncle?" she asked, her tone lighter.

"He replied too. Said he will travel with Grandfather," Cheng Yi answered, the corner of his lips lifting. "He was upset that Baba wasn't here… but I thought it normal. Baba was never often home."

A small smile played on Madam Lui's lips. "He's still such a child… your uncle." Her voice faded, the weight of years slipping into her words. "I miss him dearly."

Cheng Yi held her hand more firmly.

"When you're well enough," he said, "we'll visit Grandfather. Or perhaps walk to the garden beyond the gate… and celebrate properly."

She nodded, pride softening her features. "You've grown, my son. I'm grateful your friends have been good company to you."

Cheng Yi's mind drifted for a moment—to Yun Yuhua, her quiet strength, her laughter in the courtyard. A thought rose to his lips, but he hesitated.

"Ma…" he began.

But before he could speak the words, she broke into a fit of coughing.

Cheng Yi moved swiftly, pouring water into a cup and pressing it gently to her hands. She took it without looking, sipping slowly.

A knock came at the door.

"Young Lord," a voice called anxiously before the door creaked open. It was Lulei, the maid.

She stepped in, saw Madam Lui seated upright, and froze. The porcelain bowl in her hands slipped and shattered at her feet.

Tears welled in her eyes.

"Madam…" she choked out.

"Lulei," Madam Lui said gently, smiling.

The girl stumbled forward and dropped to her knees beside the bed, her hands shaking as she tried to compose herself.

"You're awake," Lulei said, her voice breaking. "You're really awake…"

Madam Lui chuckled softly, lifting a hand to pat the maid's shoulder. "Forgive me for frightening you."

Lulei shook her head, tears slipping down her cheeks. "Are you feeling well enough, Madam? The Ministry of Works will arrive before long…"

Madam Lui straightened slightly, her eyes growing clearer, more focused.

"Then make sure the hall is properly arranged. I want the tea set laid out in full. The household must be presentable."

"Yes, Madam," Lulei said quickly, rising with new purpose.

Cheng Yi watched his mother quietly. She was still pale, still weak—but her voice carried the quiet authority of a woman who had endured storms.

The arrival of Huan Jiang, Minister of Works, brought a rare solemnity to the Lui residence. At his side was his son, Huan Tishui. The courtyard had been swept clean, the attendants lined in quiet formation, and despite her lingering frailty, Madam Lui stood at the entrance to greet her father and younger brother.

Cheng Yi remained by her side, steadying her arm as she bowed.

"My daughter," Jiang's voice softened with worry. "You should be in bed, not out in the wind. What were you thinking?"

"I'm well enough to stand before my father," Madam Lui said with a gentle smile, though her pallor told otherwise.

Tishui's eyes scanned the courtyard, and his frown deepened when he found no sign of Hao Jian.

"Where is Jiefu?" he asked coldly, a sharp edge in his voice. Cheng Yi felt the air thicken with tension. He stepped forward with a gracious smile. *Jiefu means older sister's husband or brother-in-law, respectfully older.*

"Grandfather, Uncle, please, let us move indoors. The wind will not be kind to my mother's health."

Jiang gave a nod of approval. "Yes, inside."

They entered the main hall, where Madam Lui was helped into her seat. Cheng Yi remained at her side while Jiang and Tishui sat across. The weight of Hao Jian's absence clung to the room.

Tishui's eyes remained fixed on the door. "Is Jiefu so occupied that he cannot be present when his wife has barely recovered?" he muttered.

Cheng Yi opened his mouth to answer, but Madam Lui laid a calming hand over his.

"Tishui, Cheng Yi has done more for me than his father ever has. You know our marriage was one of duty. Hao Jian's absence is… expected."

"You should never have married him," Tishui snapped. "Even the Emperor once looked favorably upon you. Why lower yourself to a madman?"

"Tishui!" Jiang's voice cracked like a whip as his palm struck the table. "Hold your tongue. The late Lord Lui was a trusted ally. I chose him."

"Then why is his son such a disappointment?" Tishui muttered under his breath.

Tishui leaned back with a sigh, and frustration etched into his brow. Cheng Yi shifted uncomfortably in his seat, eyes on the table. Madam Lui noticed and gently placed a hand on her son's arm.

"You've been by my side for days, my son. I know your heart," she said softly. "But you don't need to linger in this heavy air today. Go see your friends. Let your spirit breathe."

Cheng Yi hesitated. "Ma, I don't mind staying."

"I do," she said with a firm but loving tone. "You've already done more than enough. I'll be fine now. Besides…" —she glanced at Jiang and Tishui— "I think they want to speak freely, and you've heard enough of their grumbling."

Cheng Yi offered a weak smile, sensing her true intention. "I'll return before sundown."

Madam Lui nodded, smiling with pride. "That's my good boy."

As he stood, Jiang and Tishui exchanged a quiet look, both silently struck by the bond between mother and son.

Tishui leaned forward. "Friends? You have friends now?" he asked teasingly.

Madam Lui chuckled, her eyes gleaming. "A girl… and her brothers."

Cheng Yi flushed, his ears burning. "Ma…"

"A girl?" Tishui lit up. "Is she someone you fancy?"

"She's just… kind," Cheng Yi muttered. "Her family are farmers, passing through the village."

Jiang's expression turned sharp. "What do they want from you?"

Cheng Yi straightened, startled. Madam Lui narrowed her eyes.

"Baba, she's brought out a better side of Cheng Yi. He's become more confident, more open. You should see it."

"She's a commoner. You are the son of a high official," Jiang snapped. "You think the palace will turn a blind eye?"

Cheng Yi fell to his knees. "Grandfather, I swear on my name—she asks nothing of me. Her family has no ambition but to return to their travels once her father returns."

Jiang scoffed. "Your father nearly destroyed this house over a woman. I will not let you repeat his mistakes."

"Baba," Madam Lui interjected, "Cheng Yi has not followed in his father's shadow. He is forging his own path, and I was wrong to doubt him before. He is not Hao Jian."

Jiang fell silent, his stern features cracking with uncertainty.

"There is still much we don't know about Hao Jian," he said grimly. "The late Lord Lui's death was never fully explained."

"I am looking into it," Madam Lui said with conviction. "And I won't stop until the truth is found."

Meanwhile, Cheng Yi and his uncle, Huan Tishui, arrived at the village inn together. The hum of voices, clinking of porcelain, and aroma of steaming dishes filled the air. They took their seats near the window, where the soft sunlight filtered through the latticed panels. Tishui glanced around, eyes keen with curiosity.

"A lively establishment," he remarked with a half-smile, folding his hands within his sleeves. "I would not have expected such bustle in a rural town."

Cheng Yi smiled faintly. "Their dishes are as warm as the company. You'll find no shortage of charm here."

Tishui narrowed his gaze, a playful glint in his eyes. "Mm. And among this charm, tell me—who is the fortunate young lady that has caught your eye, hmm?"

Cheng Yi flushed, lowering his gaze just as a familiar voice called out.

"Cheng Gongzi!" Qian'ai approached with a broad smile. "It's been some days. How fares your household?"

Cheng Yi rose slightly and returned the greeting. "My apologies for the absence. My mother had taken ill, and I remained to tend to her."

"Ah," Qian'ai nodded with concern. "Is she improving? Shall I prepare herbs to restore her strength?"

Cheng Yi waved gently. "Your kindness humbles me, but she is on the mend. Today, she smiled for the first time in days."

Qian'ai's eyes flickered to Tishui, whom he had not met. He bowed courteously. "I am Qian'ai, humble helper of the innkeeper here."

Tishui acknowledged the bow with a slight nod. "And are you kin to the lady, Yun Yuhua?"

Qian'ai paused. "Lady?"

Cheng Yi offered softly, "Yun Yuhua, your younger sister."

Qian'ai laughed lightly. "Ah, yes. Yuhua is indeed my meimei."

Tishui's brow lifted with interest. He studied Qian'ai's demeanor—the quiet courtesy, the ready offer of medicine for a stranger's mother. There was a gentleness here he had not expected.

Cheng Yi, sensing his uncle's line of thought, quickly changed the subject. "Uncle, would you like to try a dish or two from this inn? Their fare is modest, but rich in flavor."

Tishui chuckled. "Whatever you order for yourself shall suit me just fine."

Cheng Yi signaled for their usual plates. Before long, the door curtain shifted. Tian Ke entered, gently guiding Yun Yuhua by the elbow, his hand wrapped protectively over hers.

"Ke gege, I told you, it's a small wound," Yun Yuhua said with a soft pout.

"If you had exercised greater caution, it wouldn't have become a wound at all," Tian Ke replied, concern wrinkling his brow.

"I'll take more care next time," she promised, her voice warm.

Cheng Yi stood. "Tian Ke!"

Tishui turned at the sound of his name and, catching sight of Yun Yuhua, promptly spat out the tea he'd been sipping. He choked slightly, eyes wide.

Tian Ke and Yun Yuhua approached their table.

"Cheng Yi," Tian Ke greeted. "How is your mother faring? And your household?"

"She improves by the day," Cheng Yi answered with a smile. "My grandfather and uncle came to visit. This is my uncle, Huan Tishui."

Tian Ke bowed slightly. "Tian Ke, elder brother to Yun Yuhua."

Yun Yuhua dipped her head respectfully. "Greetings."

Tishui let out a chuckle, the kind that made Cheng Yi tense up. "I am Huan Tishui. I did not expect my nephew to have such a discerning eye," he said, with a mischievous glint.

Cheng Yi blushed crimson. "Uncle, please..."

Tian Ke furrowed his brow, puzzled. Qian'ai, catching the moment from the counter, laughed and slipped into the back kitchen. Yun Yuhua tilted her head, clearly unaware of the implication.

"I shall assist Auntie," she murmured and excused herself.

Tian Ke nodded, and as she departed, Cheng Yi covered his face in quiet shame.

"I must apologize," he said under his breath. "My uncle is… still unfamiliar with those in this town. His humor is strange."

Tishui only laughed harder. "You ought not be so bashful."

Tian Ke smiled faintly. "It is good," he said thoughtfully, "to see you surrounded by those who bring warmth into your life."

Tishui paused, briefly thoughtful. Cheng Yi gave a rare smile of pure joy.

"Actually… I came here to say…" He took a breath. "I passed the examination."

Tian Ke's face lit with pride. He patted Cheng Yi's back. "I never doubted you. You've grown into a man your mother will be proud of."

Cheng Yi's eyes shone. "She already is. And… she's recovering faster now."

"That is joyous news," Tian Ke said. "I have not told Li'Ai or Yuhua yet."

"I told Qian'ai a moment ago," Cheng Yi replied.

Their joy, however, was cut short.

A loud clatter echoed at the inn's entrance as Lulei burst through the doors, breathless and pale.

"Young Master!" she cried. "Madam… and the Minister—both have collapsed!"

Time stopped. Every cup stilled. Every gaze turned toward her in alarm.

Cheng Yi stood frozen, the weight of the world pressing suddenly upon his shoulders.