"Jiaojiao!"
On the ride back in the carriage, the young monk Jingkong enthusiastically swung his short legs by Gu Jiao’s side, "You play the lute so well! Even better than master!"
Gu Jiao asked, "Can your master also play the lute?"
Jingkong said disdainfully, "He can play, but it sounds terrible!"
Gu Jiao imagined an old monk with a white beard clumsily plucking the strings of a lute and producing a tuneless melody.
She said, "Your master has quite a wide range of hobbies."
Jingkong waved his hand, "Just so-so, the old man loves drinking the most!"
"Monks can drink?"
Is your master really a monk?
Gu Jiao took a handkerchief to wipe the lute case on her legs, "At his age, it would be better not to drink."
Jingkong nodded like a pecking chick, "Exactly, exactly!"
The carriage came to the city gate, where it was closed by the time, but Gu Jiao had a token, and the guards at the gate didn’t dare to be negligent and opened the gate for her.
As they passed through the gateway, Jingkong suddenly asked, "Jiaojiao, why did we come so far to play the lute?"
Gu Jiao said, "To see off a friend, he’s embarking on a long journey."
Jingkong asked, cocking his little head, "Is it that friend who plays the flute? His flute music sounded so nice!"
Love for the house extends even to the crows on its roof, indeed!
Gu Jiao curved her lips into a smile, "Yes, I think it sounds nice too."
The focuses of children differ from those of adults. If Xiao Hen were here, he would definitely ask who that friend was, whether a man or a woman.
But Jingkong earnestly said, "Then he must be a very, very good friend of Jiaojiao. Will he return?"
"I don’t know." Gu Jiao really didn’t know; in that dream where she returned to the Marquis Residence, Liu Yisheng had come back, but now everything was quite different from the dream, and no one could guarantee whether they would meet again in the future.
The city gates slowly closed.
Gu Jiao lifted the curtain and looked back one last time at the official road outside the city.
Farewell, Liu Xiang.
...
Liu Yisheng was a poor man, and all his possessions included only a box of luggage and a basket of books that Gu Jiao had given him—taking Xiaoshi was, after all, a bit of sentiment for her.
The mansion was now empty, neither attended to nor sold.
Gu Changqing, holding the sleeping Jingkong, entered the house with his sister.
By midnight, everyone at home had retired, and Xiao Hen hadn’t returned.
There had been too many incidents lately, first Qin Fengyang, then Prime Minister Zhuang, the official documents were overwhelming, so Xiao Hen had to stay at the Ministry of Punishments tonight.
After entering the hall, Gu Jiao took Jingkong and put him to bed in the western bedchamber.
"Jiaojiao... so nice..."
Jingkong seemed to be dreaming of Gu Jiao’s lute music, mumbling with his little mouth.
Gu Jiao pulled the blanket over him, tucked in the corners, and then returned to the hall to sit down with Gu Changqing on the chairs.
"When did you return?" she asked.
"Just now, I was passing by on my way back to the residence and decided to stop by," Gu Changqing said. "Actually, I should have returned earlier, but I met a few old acquaintances of yours on the way and stayed a few more days because of them."
"My old acquaintances?" Did she have old friends in the north?
Gu Changqing had gone to the northern counties to comfort the families of martyrs and to investigate Qin Fengyang’s background.
She came from Youzhou which lay in the opposite direction.
Seeing Gu Jiao through the filter of a doting elder brother, Gu Changqing found his sister endearingly aloof despite her expressionless face.
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