For a long time, no new sounds came from the room. Smoke from the incense burner curled and rose in the air in soft wisps, the hazy mist giving a sense of peace.

Having heard this much, Song Chuning had already figured out some of the ways of things. She sat quietly with lowered eyes for a while. When her pair of eyes looked at Madam Fang, they held no emotion—just like a piece of well-polished glass, allowing one to see through to the bottom, yet unable to discern what thoughts were truly hidden behind.

“But you’ve already thoroughly offended the Song family.” She grabbed the teacup that Madam Fang had just filled and suddenly flung it, splashing Madam Fang’s face with tea: “You see, just like this. If I splash you once or twice, you might not care much. But as the common saying goes, all things come in threes… Everyone’s patience has its limits, not to mention you acted so mercilessly before. Even if you deliberately held back and showed mercy midway this time, based on my understanding of those two old foxes in the Song family, they would absolutely never pledge allegiance to Prince Duan again.”

She looked at the somewhat shocked and disheveled Madam Fang, the corners of her mouth curving into a contemptuous arc: “Could Prince Duan really be so assured having a fierce tiger lying in wait before his own bed?”

The still somewhat hot tea water fell on her face, instantly scalding Madam Fang’s fair and tender face red. She finally pulled out a handkerchief somewhat awkwardly to wipe her face clean, glaring at Song Chuning with a shocked expression: “Have you gone mad?!”

“You see, your so-called acting subservient is merely because you haven’t been thoroughly provoked.” Song Chuning smiled sweetly, her smile rather adorable: “All people have the seven emotions and six desires. Don’t you have them yourself?”

Madam Fang’s face was now as red as the garments she wore. She stared at Song Chuning for quite a while, seeming to forcefully restrain her emotions, and laughed coldly: “But you’re merely someone unloved by your elders and who has lost her mother. As long as we loosen our grip here slightly, you’ll be sent back to the Song family. You’re not unaware of what awaits you then. Since you know, yet still do such foolish things to provoke people—it truly wastes all the instruction I’ve given you this whole time!”

Song Chuning was unconcerned, not the least bit intimidated as she questioned back: “But now I’ve already provoked you. Will you abandon me?”

She had met Madam Fang when she went to Hongdu to celebrate the birthday of the Hongdu magistrate’s daughter. From the start, this Madam Fang had shown intense interest in her, and had cleverly helped her deal with that group of old Song family servants who suddenly made trouble on the road. Afterward, she had followed her to Changsha under the title of teacher, and for most of this past half year had been inseparable from her side.

Prince Duan and Madam Fang weren’t people who were so full and idle they had nothing to do, coming specifically to perform charity. If she had no utility value, why would they stick so close to her?

Madam Fang was stunned. The moisture in the south was heavy, and the damp stray hairs sticking to her cheeks made her feel both itchy and cold, such that her reaction was also delayed for quite a while: “You are indeed clever.”

Originally, she had only known that this Eighth Miss of the Song family had suddenly come to Changsha, and hearing she had actually resolved the bandit troubles in Changsha City, had wanted to come probe the relationship. Who knew this Eighth Miss Song was quite special—not only gifted with extraordinary abilities to know what would happen in the future, but also filled with resentment toward the Song family.

According to a famous master in Fujian, such a person was naturally born with great fortune.

How to interpret these three words “great fortune” naturally depended on one’s perspective. Even if she was only a six-year-old little girl, Prince Duan still wanted to grasp this great fortune in his own hands. That’s why she had followed Song Chuning for most of half a year. But strangely, this little girl was completely unlike ordinary girls—the things she prophesied were accurate in every case, and she often had clever strategies and ingenious plans. Such a girl just over six years old had actually helped Song Yi resolve the bandit troubles that had plagued Changsha for many years. They were even more convinced that Song Chuning was a treasure. What Song Chuning said now was also correct—they absolutely could not give up this treasure.

Song Chuyi sat on the imperial concubine’s couch by the window reading the letter Song Jue had sent back. The letter said everything was going very smoothly. On the night the Tang family held their banquet, almost everyone of note in Shu attended. He had represented Song Yan in publicly presenting the gift they had prepared long ago, earning Tang Mingzhao’s repeated praise. It was just that because the Shu region had much miasma, Song Yan might have contracted some toxic vapors—some bumps and spots had appeared on his neck and face. They had already asked a physician to prescribe medicine, and it wasn’t anything serious. In these past few days, they had gradually begun to dissipate. He told the family not to worry.

Qing Tao lightly and quietly came forward to replace her hot water bottle, then reached out to check the temperature of her hands, gently advising: “When first arriving in a new place, one isn’t accustomed to it. Having some things appear on one’s body is inevitable. First Young Master is accompanying him, so Miss should be at ease.”

Song Chuyi nodded. It wasn’t that she was worried, but after all, as the eldest sister she was like a mother. Song Yan had traveled thousands of miles to pursue his studies. Even though she knew many people followed him, worry was still inevitable.

Nanny Xu pushed the door open and entered, her expression somewhat grave as she handed her a letter, shaking her head: “The Old Madam asked me to show this to you. This time they specifically sent someone to Changsha to demand the person, but still couldn’t get her. Second Master said that when the New Year comes, he will naturally bring Eighth Miss back to offer a sincere apology.”

Song Chuyi had long anticipated how troublesome the matter of Song Chuning would be—previously, Old Madam Song’s plan to have those several Changsha households secretly bind her and bring her back had already failed. Later, two or three more groups had successively gone, and almost all had gone without return.

She herself had also asked Madam Cui to inquire, only to learn that Song Chuning’s surroundings were guarded so tightly as to be impenetrable. If they wanted to bind her and bring her back without alerting Song Yi, it would be simply impossible.

Not only that, even wanting to directly kill her wouldn’t work—she had many skilled guards protecting her.

She couldn’t help but wonder whether Song Chuning had sought external aid. But at that time, she had been busy countering each move as it came and had no time to pay attention to Song Chuning. Now that Old Master Song had personally sent people to Changsha to demand the person and still couldn’t get her, she couldn’t help but furrow her brow.

The letter was written in Song Yi’s own hand, every word and sentence could be described as extremely sincere, and his protection of Song Chuning was displayed between every line. He said he dared not disobey his parents’ wishes and also felt himself unfilial. He also said that if Old Master Song and Old Madam Song went to the Censorate to accuse him of being unfilial and disobedient, he would accept it. It was just that Song Chuning was still young, and he couldn’t bear to watch her life be ruined.

Song Chuyi couldn’t describe what she felt at this moment. After reading halfway through, she lightly tossed the letter onto the table.

When she had just been reborn, she would have nightmares, always dreaming of Song Yi’s anxious brow and eyes when she was ill, and also always dreaming of Song Yi’s later coldness and distance. Thinking about it now, although Song Yi could also be considered doting and indulgent toward her, there was always a thin membrane separating them. Although in this life she had worked hard to expose Li Shi’s true face, it was too late.