This winter, the snow was late in coming, the Capital was dry and cold, and the night wind strong. Although Tang Yong's room hadn't been burning for long, the things inside were already mostly destroyed. After the young servants finished putting out the fire, they all withdrew, leaving only the maidservants and old women in the inner courtyard to clean up. It took more than ten people almost the entire night to barely finish tidying up.
Mrs. Qiao sat in the main hall of Ruyi Courtyard, her hand occasionally patting her grandson's back, her face darkened, immersed in unknown thoughts.
In the adjacent west chamber, Jiang Qingyu lay unconscious while the doctor applied medicine to her.
Tang Yuan had, in a reckless impulse, rushed over to carry his sister-in-law out of the sea of flames. In the heat of the moment, he hadn't realized the inappropriateness of his actions but afterward felt unsettled and retreated to guard the door outside.
