Five years had passed since the day the Gu family found a child drifting upon the lake. Seasons had folded and unfolded like the silk fans in Lady Yue Qin's hands, and now the child had grown into a bright, graceful little girl whose laughter seemed to carry sunlight with it.
The Gu residence bloomed in springtime light. Cherry blossoms drifted through the air, catching in the courtyards and on the servants' sleeves. The sound of sparrows echoed between the carved pillars, mingling with the faint clatter of bamboo wind chimes.
Inside the inner garden, two small figures darted between the trees one in pale blue silk, the other in deep azure.
The little girl was delicate and graceful as a hand painted blossom. Her face was smooth and fine, the skin fair with a soft glow that caught the morning light. Her eyes were long and dark, bright with a spark that often betrayed the mischief she tried to hide. Her brows were slender, curving gently above lashes that brushed her cheeks whenever she lowered her gaze. A small, straight nose sat above lips naturally tinted with rose, and when she smiled, a tiny dimple bloomed at the corner of her mouth.
Her hair was combed with care, parted neatly and drawn into two small knots at the sides, each held by golden hairpins shaped like tiny swallows. Silken ribbons trailed from the pins, swaying when she moved, while the rest of her dark hair flowed freely down her back in smooth, glossy strands.
She wore a light silk robe of pale blue, the fabric soft and fine, embroidered along the edges with silver threads forming clouds and flowers. Over it was a thin gauze jacket, white and sheer, its long sleeves moving like flowing water. A narrow green sash circled her waist, tied into a neat bow at the back. Around her neck rested a simple gold chain with a small jade swallow pendant, chosen by her mother not for value but for its gentle beauty. On her small feet were white satin shoes, stitched with faint blue cloud patterns.
Every step she took carried an airy grace half play, half poise he quiet reflection of a child raised among elegance but not yet weighed by it.
"Got you!" the boy shouted, leaping over a stone path to catch his sister's sleeve.
"You didn't!" the girl squealed, twisting away with surprising quickness. Her ribbons flew as she spun, laughing, her bare feet barely making a sound on the smooth tiles.
"You always cheat!" he protested, hands on his hips.
"No, I'm just smaller Father says that means I can run faster!" she replied proudly, sticking out her tongue before darting behind a flowering tree.
It was then her name finally rang through the air Gu Lianhua, the little blossom of the Gu family, bright as morning light.
From the veranda, Yue Qin sighed with a smile as she watched them chase each other around the courtyard. "Heavens above," she said to her maid, "if those two ever sit still, the house would collapse from the shock."
The maid giggled softly. "Young Master Tianyi takes after the Commander, but the little Miss… she has your spirit, Madam."
Yue Qin's lips curved. "My spirit? That's just another way of saying troublemaker."
Her laughter rang like a bell as Lianhua came running toward her, clutching a tiny flower. "Mother! Look it's shaped like your hairpin!"
Yue Qin bent to examine it, her graceful fingers brushing her daughter's hand. "So it is. You have sharp eyes, little swallow."
Lianhua beamed. "That's because Brother says I always notice everything."
Behind her came the boy Gu Tianyi his breath quick but his gaze steady.
At seven, he already carried the calm discipline of child be born and brought up as a commander child. His features were sharp for his age, the lines of his face hinting at the strength he would one day have. His eyes were steady, dark as polished onyx, and there was a certain quiet in them, the kind that belonged to someone who watched more than he spoke. His brows were straight and bold, his nose finely shaped, and his mouth often pressed into a thoughtful line that only softened when his sister made him laugh.
His hair was tied up neatly at the crown, secured with a dark silk cord, while the rest fell behind him in smooth layers. A short fringe brushed against his forehead, making him look both tidy and a little wild.
He wore a robe of deep azure silk, its sleeves wide at the wrists and lined with faint patterns of cranes and waves. Beneath it was a lighter inner garment, the collar crossed and fastened neatly at his chest. A plain belt of woven fabric held a small wooden practice sword his treasured possession. His boots were soft leather, light enough for running through courtyards or climbing garden stones.
There was something striking in the way he moved: steady, careful, with the quiet confidence of a boy who had already begun to understand what duty meant, yet still carried the warmth of childhood in the curve of his smile.
"She notices everything except when she steals my sweets," Tianyi said dryly, but the teasing warmth in his voice made Lianhua giggle.
"That's not true!" she gasped, turning to glare at him.
"Yes it is. Yesterday you "
"Enough, both of you," Yue Qin said lightly, though amusement glimmered in her gaze. "Come, sit with me. If you behave, I'll tell you the story your father told me about himself
The children gasped in unison. "A funny stories?" Lianhua asked, wide eyed.
Tianyi crossed his arms. "Mother, your stories are boring."
"Only because you don't understand them yet," Yue Qin said, drawing him close with a playful tug at his sleeve. "Now sit properly. The tale begins long ago, when your father was not yet Commander Gu Shen, but merely a proud young soldier who thought polishing armor made him irresistible."
That earned a laugh from the maid nearby, who quickly hid it behind her sleeve.
"Mother!" Tianyi exclaimed, half embarrassed, half amused. "Father will scold you if he hears!"
"Let him," Yue Qin said with mock dignity. "I endured his scolding long enough before he ever learned to smile."
The laughter around the veranda softened when heavy footsteps sounded behind them.
"Talking about me again?"
Commander Gu Shen stood at the threshold, tall and broad-shouldered, his presence filling the space like a steady mountain. His armor gleamed faintly in the light, a crimson plume rising from the crown of his helmet. Yet his expression softened the instant his gaze fell upon his family.
"Father!" Lianhua cried, running to him.
Gu Shen bent down, catching her in his arms. The little girl's silk ribbons brushed against the cool metal of his armor. "You've grown heavier," he teased. "What have you been eating, little one?"
"Only what Mother gives me!"
"Then your mother's feeding you too well." He smiled at Yue Qin, whose eyes held warmth and quiet pride.
Gu Tianyi stood straighter, bowing neatly. "Father."
Gu Shen placed a firm hand on his son's shoulder. "Good posture. But loosen your grip you're not on parade."
Tianyi blinked, realizing his tiny fists were clenched at his sides. "Yes, Father."
Yue Qin shook her head fondly. "See? Even when he's home, he drills them like soldiers."
Gu Shen chuckled. "Discipline begins early."
"Then maybe you should teach them how to nap like a soldier too," she said, raising a brow. "Because they certainly have your energy."
Even the guards at the edge of the courtyard hid smiles at that.
Gu Shen removed his helmet, setting it beside the veranda post. His hair was tied high, streaked faintly with silver at the temples though his face was still youthful. "I'll be leaving for the border tomorrow," he said quietly. "The emperor calls for a report on the northern defenses."
The laughter faded. Even Lianhua's smile faltered.
"So soon?" Yue Qin asked softly.
Gu Shen nodded. "It will only be for a few weeks."
Lianhua reached for his sleeve. "Can I come?"
He knelt and smoothed her hair. "Not this time, my swallow. The road is long and full of dust, it is not a place where children can come. You must stay here and take care of your mother and your brother when he forgets to eat."
"I never forget to eat!" Tianyi protested.
Yue Qin laughed again, brushing a tear from her eye before anyone could see it. "He forgets to eat unless there's sweet rice cake on the table."
"Then I'll bring you some from the capital," Gu Shen promised, smiling.
The household gathered in the courtyard to see him off the next morning. The guards stood lined along the path, their armor glinting beneath the pale dawn. Servants bowed deeply, and the children clung to their mother's sleeves as Gu Shen mounted his horse.
He looked down at them once more his wife serene yet strong, his son standing tall, and his daughter waving both hands, eyes shining like stars.
"Be good," he said.
"We will!" they chorused.
As he rode out through the red gates, the spring wind carried the faint so
und of laughter from behind him he laughter of his family, the sound that followed him further than any marching drum.