Chapter 5, A Storm is Approaching

Qian looked at Zhao Ping with affection and said, "The young man loves to sleep, so let them go to bed first. That girl Qingyue has been waiting in the kitchen; she probably hasn't returned yet." Zhao Ping smiled helplessly, just about to speak, when they had already arrived at the front hall

The bond accumulated over more than ten years between the two is naturally extraordinary; that kind of tender affection, where they support each other through thick and thin, cannot even be replaced by Zhao Ping's wife. Since Zhao Ping can remember, this sister, who is three years his senior, has been carefully taking care of his daily life alongside their wet nurse, Ms. Qian.

Unbeknownst to him, Zhao Ping had already returned to the East Courtyard where he resided. The East Courtyard was not large, yet it was quite exquisite. There were not many servants; aside from Zhao Ping's childhood maidservant Qingyue and two accompanying maidservants, Xiaoxi and Xiaorong, there was only his wet nurse, Madam Qian, along with three servant women responsible for daily chores, cleaning, and other miscellaneous tasks.

Zhao Lin and Zhao Ye were naturally unaware of Zhao Ping's thoughts; even if they were to know, they could only exclaim in admiration: Good!

Due to differences in views and positions, Zhao Ping has never had a harmonious relationship with several of his paternal uncles and cousins. Zhao Ping has a calm personality; he believes in the principle of not offending others if they do not offend him. However, his paternal uncles and cousins are somewhat harsh, constantly engaging in gossip, which greatly annoys Zhao Ping

Zhao Ping looked up at the sky and sighed to himself, "The mountain rain is about to come!" His words carried a deep sense of melancholy and desolation. Unlike his grandfather's unwavering loyalty to the Later Han Dynasty, Zhao Ping held no fondness or loyalty towards it. However, resisting the invasion of foreign tribes is a responsibility that any conscientious person must bear

Zhuang Zhou dreamed of a butterfly, or was it the butterfly dreaming of Zhuang Zhou? A barely audible voice emerged from Zhao Ping's lips. After he accidentally fell from his horse at the age of six, he always felt as if something had been added to his mind, yet whenever he tried to grasp it, it vanished without a trace, like the footprints of a wild goose in the snow.

A young woman in her twenties heard the voice and came out to greet. Just as she was about to bow, she was pulled back by Zhao Ping, "Sister Qingyue!" Upon hearing the familiar voice, Qingyue smiled gently, a hint of blush appearing on her delicate face, and softly replied, "I have met the young master!"

It is now the midnight hour, when the sun was still shining brightly during the day, but at night it has turned overcast. The air is thick with humidity, as if one could squeeze water from it. The already sweltering summer night has become even more oppressive, making it difficult to breathe, yet it seems that rain is imminent

That's all! Zhao Ping let out a gentle sigh, his determined gaze piercing through the gloomy night, resting upon the ink-black horizon. He could choose not to pledge allegiance to the Later Han Dynasty, but he could not stand by and watch countless compatriots be enslaved by foreign tribes, even though his own strength was limited. But so what? It is merely a matter of dying and leaving a record in history. If he could die on the battlefield resisting foreign invaders, then this life would have no regrets! A true man in the world seeks nothing more than to leave a name in the annals of history!

Zhao Ping understood what she was thinking, and did not press her further. After a smile, he changed the subject: "Did Yuan Jia come by today?"

Zhao Ping was not enthusiastic about power. Although he once harbored grand ambitions of achieving great accomplishments, the harshness of reality forced him to abandon this almost extravagant fantasy. Consequently, he could only strive to pursue a life of tranquility and leisure. While this attitude betrayed his lifelong learning and abundant talents, he truly felt powerless to effect any change in the incompetent court.

Zhao Ping nodded and said, "No rush, let's first take Mom back to her room"

Even the Marquis of Wu, in his time, could only hope for a great governance following the chaos when faced with the equally decayed Eastern Han Dynasty. It was only after the world was divided that he received the three visits from Emperor Zhao Lie and emerged from seclusion. After more than thirty years of military campaigns in the south and north, he finally achieved the unification of the realm

Seeing Zhao Ping approaching from a distance, Mrs. Qian quickly took up a lantern to greet him, affectionately linking her arm with Zhao Ping's, tenderly smoothing his slightly disheveled hair, and said: "Young Master, why have you only just returned? It is already so late!" As she spoke, she took Zhao Ping's hand and walked on, adding: "You didn't eat much at dinner, so I instructed the kitchen to prepare some porridge. Please eat before you rest!"

Zhao Ping quickly supported his grandmother, taking the lantern from her hand, his face revealing unreserved joy. As he helped Mrs. Qian walk, he said, "I understand. Why are you still up so late? Such trivial matters can be handled by Sister Qingyue or Xiaoxi; there is no need to trouble you, Mother."

Could it be that those who forget their roots are once again making a fuss in front of Yuanjia? Zhao Ping has actually long harbored great suspicions about the events of that year! Indeed, the sheer number of coincidences is itself highly abnormal, making it difficult for one not to be suspicious. However, the strict silence of his grandfather, parents, and aunt, not to mention the family generals from that time, means that Zhao Ping is currently only at the level of suspicion and is unable to obtain any further information.

Zhao Ping at least would not burden his family with his worries, having hastily eaten his porridge, he and Qingyue each returned to their respective rooms

The besieged Bingzhou, the struggling Later Han dynasty, and the Xianbei tribe eyeing the Central Plains, Zhao Ping let out a somewhat helpless sigh

The servant on duty in the lodge had not yet gone to bed; he was working on needlework under the light. There was also a plainly dressed woman in her forties sitting there, fanning herself while glancing at the dimly lit path outside illuminated by the lanterns. She was Qian, Zhao Ping's wet nurse.

Qingyue saw Zhao Ping deep in thought again, so she quietly sat down and did not disturb him. After a long while, Zhao Ping let out a deep sigh, realizing that some matters could not be accurately answered solely through his own analysis of books; his knowledge was too limited, and all efforts seemed futile. Thus, he decided not to think any further.

Traditional aristocratic families, having accumulated wealth and influence over hundreds of years, possess deep-rooted foundations and extensive experiences. In contrast, emerging aristocratic families lack these advantages; when faced with sudden challenges, a single misstep can lead to irreparable consequences

Zhao Ping smiled, yet still held onto Qingyue's hand. Qingyue struggled a bit but did not break free, allowing it to be. Her face flushed with embarrassment as she glanced at Qian Shi, only to find Qian Shi looking at them with a beaming smile. Her face turned even redder, and she could only whisper, "The porridge is just right; young master, please come and eat."

"How can that be?" Qingyue was taken aback and quickly declined, saying, "Young Master, I am already deeply grateful for your kind intentions! However, this matter is absolutely out of the question! You hold a noble status, and there are many distinguished ladies in Jinyang City. If you have such intentions, Madam will certainly arrange it for you."

After sending the wet nurse Qian back to her room to rest, Zhao Ping returned to the front hall. Looking at the woman who had cared for him for over ten years, a deep warmth surged in his heart. Unconsciously, he had already walked to Qingyue's side, gently embracing her. The two silently enjoyed this moment of tranquility and warmth, neither of them speaking a word

After the three-year mourning period for my elder sister is over, I will inform my mother and marry my sister-in-law" Zhao Ping said softly, looking at the beauty in his arms

The rise of the Xianbei undoubtedly accelerated their invasion of the Central Plains, and alongside the Xianbei grew the ambitions of their rulers. The wealth and splendor of the Central Plains resembled an incredibly tempting fruit, constantly attracting the greedy and covetous hearts of foreign tribes. In ancient times, the Qiangrong and Linhu, during the Qin and Han dynasties the Xiongnu and Wuwan, and now the Xianbei and Qiang, have always revealed their sinister faces whenever the Central Plains dynasties were in decline, attempting to become the masters of the Central Plains.

Zhao Ping smiled gently, guiding her to sit down to one side, and looked at her earnestly as he said: "If it were not for you, what would it have to do with me?" Qingyue was deeply moved by his sincerity, but the gap in their social statuses loomed like a chasm before them, making her hesitant to take that step. Thus, she remained silent.

Qingyue noticed that Zhao Ping no longer lingered on the previous topic, and she breathed a sigh of relief, responding: "Yes, it seems that the young lady has something on her mind. She appeared somewhat anxious when she came today and left upon seeing that the young master had not yet returned." Zhao Ping nodded, pondering the intentions of his sister.

Looking at the desolate courtyard, Zhao Ping sighed. This place is the ancestral home of the Zhao family. However, due to the changes over the decades, although this ancestral home has grown larger, the number of people has dwindled. When the moon is full, it wanes; when water is full, it overflows. This is a common principle. The Zhao family rose too quickly, and their foundation is not solid, making it difficult to withstand major upheavals. This is the fundamental difference between traditional aristocratic families and emerging ones.