Five months passed as softly as petals falling on water.
Spring's perfume faded, and the sun of midsummer gilded the Gu residence with gold. Yet even in the heat, laughter never left the air the laughter of two children who seemed to believe the world existed only to entertain them.
The Gu residence sat upon a hill lined with plum and peach trees. Its walls were painted with crimson lacquer, and the courtyard stones glowed like warm jade under the light. Dragonflies danced over the ponds, and the servants swore that even the koi in the lotus pool had learned to chase each other whenever Lianhua giggled nearby.
Inside the east pavilion, that giggle now rang out clear as a bell.
"Brother, you're doing it wrong again!" Lianhua exclaimed, spinning on her toes. The sunlight caught the silk of her sleeve, sending ripples of gold across the air.
"I'm not!" Tianyi protested, attempting the same turn and promptly tripped over his own feet.
He landed with a thump.
"Now you've scared the carp!" Lianhua declared dramatically, pointing at the pond outside.
The maids burst into laughter.
"You always scold me," Tianyi grumbled, dusting his robe. "You think you're a dance master now just because that old tutor praised you?"
"she's not old she's elegant," she replied, nose in the air. "And she said I dance like moonlight."
Tianyi frowned. She also said I have strong potential.'"
"Yes," Lianhua said sweetly, "strong potential to fall."
The courtyard erupted in laughter again.
Even Yue Qin, seated by the veranda with her embroidery, tried to keep her face straight. But her lips trembled. "Tianyi, you should be grateful your sister's teaching you. Not everyone has a little fairy as a tutor."
"I don't need a fairy," he muttered. "I need a sword."
Lianhua twirled, her hair ornaments chiming like silver rain. "Then learn both! Father says a true warrior should move like water and strike like wind."
For a child of five, she spoke with a sharpness that always made the adults pause. Her words carried thought beyond her years the wit of a little genius wrapped in soft silk and laughter. She learned things once and remembered them forever. Sometimes, she'd even correct her tutor's verses, to his embarrassment and the servants' amusement.
"She act and talk like someone who is older than her age "the house steward once said. "And the boy behaves like a prince pretending to be grumpy."
Both were true.
Yue Qin watched them fondly now. Her daughter was indeed a wonder quick of mind, clever of tongue, and graceful even in mischief. Her son, though calmer, had inherited his father's quiet fire. When he watched his sister dance, pride flickered behind his teasing eyes.
Today, the two were performing what Lianhua called "The Dance of the Golden Crane."
The problem was Tianyi insisted on being the crane.
"You don't even flap right!" Lianhua scolded, hands on her tiny hips.
"I flap perfectly!" he argued. "It's the crane that's wrong."
"The crane is me!" she gasped, scandalized. "You're the wind!"
"Who wants to be wind? You can't even see it."
"That's why it's mysterious!" she said, spinning so fast her bells jingled like laughter. "You have to move like you're everywhere whoosh!"
Tianyi attempted a "whoosh," promptly smacked into a pillar, and groaned.
The maids howled with laughter again. One even dropped the thing she was holding
Yue Qin shook her head, smiling helplessly. "My poor son, you may have inherited your father's valor but not his grace."
Tianyi puffed up his chest. "Grace is for geese. Father says real men fight wars."
"Wars?" Lianhua raised an eyebrow. "Then what will you do when your enemies start dancing?"
Tianyi blinked. "Enemies don't dance."
"They might! Maybe that's why Father is always winning because he knows both sword and rhythm."
The maids clapped at that logic, and Tianyi groaned again.
"Fine," he muttered. "Next time you dance, I'll guard you."
She grinned. "You already do!"
"Do not!"
"Do too!"
"Do not!"
"Do...."
"Enough," Yue Qin said, laughing now herself. "You two argue more than ministers in court."
"Then we should have seats beside the Emperor," Lianhua said proudly, plopping herself on a cushion. "I'll give smart advice, and Brother can make scary faces."
Tianyi crossed his arms. "My faces aren't scary!"
"They are," one maid whispered loudly, earning another round of giggles.
Lianhua leaned forward mischievously. "See? Even Auntie Yu agrees."
"You traitor!" Tianyi cried, chasing the laughing maid around the pavilion.
The courtyard filled with laughter so full it seemed to push the clouds away. For that moment, there was no war, no absence only the sound of children, bright and alive.
---
That evening, as cicadas sang and the lamps began to glow, a breeze drifted through the hall carrying the scent of rain and incense. Yue Qin set aside her embroidery and poured tea for the children.
"Mother," Lianhua said suddenly, "when Father comes home, will he bring gifts?"
Yue Qin smiled softly. "He always does. What do you want this time?"
"A white horse!" she cried instantly.
Tianyi rolled his eyes. "You can't even ride."
"Then I'll learn!" she shot back. "I'll ride faster than you!"
He smirked. "If the horse doesn't faint first."
Lianhua gasped. "You're horrible!"
"You're funny," he said.
"And you're mean!"
"And you're short."
"Mother!" she wailed. "Tell him I'm tall in spirit!"
The maids were amused by her word and they started laughing.
Yue Qin chuckled. "Enough, both of you. If your father hears this, he'll think I've raised two little generals, not one."
At the mention of her husband Commander Gu Shen, the laughter softened.
A quiet warmth, mixed with longing, filled the room.
Yue Qin turned her gaze to the open window. The sky beyond was painted orange and rose, fading into violet. Somewhere beyond that horizon was her husband still at the border where the empire met its restless neighbors.
He was a soldier of renown, the Emperor's favored commander brave, strategic, and loyal. But loyalty often came with silence.
His last letter had come three months ago.
He wrote that peace was holding, but his words were brief too brief.
Each night, Yue Qin still read it before sleeping, tracing the brush strokes that carried his scent of sandalwood and steel. "Wait for me when the peach blossoms fall again," he had written.
Now, the peach blossoms had fallen and returned, and still he did not come.
---
Later that night, thunder grumbled distantly. Rain began to fall, light at first, then heavier. The servants hurried to bring in the laundry, their curved shoe slapping the wet tiles.
Yue Qin closed the window and turned. The children were asleep Tianyi curled like a cat, Lianhua clutching her little silk doll.
Even asleep, her daughter's fingers twitched as though still tracing a dance. A faint smile touched her lips, as if she were teaching the stars themselves to follow her steps.
Yue Qin brushed her daughter's hair gently and whispered, "Your father would laugh if he saw you now. You dream the loudest."
Then she went to her writing table. The candlelight flickered as she unfolded a blank letter.
Outside, the rain whispered like a secret.
Five months, she wrote. The nights grow long, and the children grow louder. Are you safe, Shen?
Her brush hesitated. Come home before she learns to dance without needing you to watch.
Just as she set the brush down, a knock sounded at the outer gate.
Three times sharp, hurried, then silence.
Her heart froze.
The servants stirred. The steward ran to open the door and there stood a soldier, rain drenched, his armor streaked with mud. He bowed low, a scroll case in his hands.
"From the Commander," he said breathlessly.
For a moment, Yue Qin couldn't move. Her hands trembled. "Is he....?"
"Alive, my lady," the man said quickly. "But… delayed."
The air seemed to return to her chest. She stepped forward, clutching the scroll.
"Delayed?" she repeated.
"Yes," the soldier said, lowering his head. "The front has shifted. The Commander sends word that he must remain for five more months. Reinforcements are late, and he dares not leave the post unguarded."
Her fingers tightened around the scroll.
Rain beat against the courtyard tiles, cold and ceaseless.
Five more months.
Her children would grow again before he saw them next.
Still, she smiled faintly. "Then tell him this," she said softly. "The plum trees will wait and so will we."
The soldier bowed deeply.
As he left, the wind tore through the courtyard, extinguishing a lantern.
And in that single flicker of darkness, Yue Qin felt something shift like a whisper crawling beneath the calm.
It wasn't only her husband's mark.
There, faint beneath his signature, was another imprint the Imperial Crest.
For a heartbeat, the world felt colder. The lantern beside her guttered, its flame bowing to the wind.
In that flicker of darkness, Yue Qin knew something had shifted something silent, powerful, and dangerous