When Song Chuyi returned to the residence, she happened to arrive at dusk again. It was already the transition from late summer to early autumn. The maple tree at the end of the alley was bright red like flowers filling the sky. When the wind blew, large swathes of leaves fell down. The gatekeepers would sweep once, and very quickly another layer would be spread out, looking exactly like a red carpet.

She alighted from the carriage at the second gate, patiently waiting for Xiang Mingzi to join her before lifting her skirts and breaking into a run all the way to Ningde Courtyard. But when she reached the entrance, she suddenly didn’t dare move forward, standing hesitantly at the doorway looking at the indistinct figures inside, her eyes reddening without reason.

Xiang Mingzi came up panting and grasped her hand, comforting her in soft gentle tones: “You’ve been longing for this for three whole years. Now that he’s finally returned, you should be happy. How is it that you’re the one who’s afraid instead?” But as she spoke, she herself couldn’t help but redden her eyes as well—Song Chuyi at least still had a younger brother to think of as hope for the future, but she truly was alone in the world. If Old Madam and Old Master should pass away…

Yushu came out to take the menu to check with Nanny Qiu. Seeing Song Chuyi, she exclaimed with delight: “Sixth Miss has returned!”

Song Chuyi smiled at her and stepped into the courtyard, just in time to see Song Yan flying out from the hall.

He had grown much taller. The young child who used to be a head shorter than her was now faintly even a bit taller than she was. He wore a sky-blue robe with auspicious prosperity patterns, with the ornamental cord she had braided for him attached at his waist—the very picture of a refined and elegant young gentleman from a prestigious clan.

His appearance overlapped with that from her previous life, instantly reddening Song Chuyi’s eyes. Thinking of Song Yan from the previous life who had accomplished nothing and was even matched for a ghost marriage, and then looking at the high-spirited youth now standing properly before her, she calmed her emotions for a long while before finally calling out: “A’Yan.”

Song Yan had already run before her. After examining her carefully from head to toe, he smiled: “Elder Sister isn’t as tall as me now.”

Nanny Huang hurriedly called them inside: “This isn’t the place to talk. Whatever you have to say, come inside and say it. Look, Miss Mingzi is also standing there with you!”

When Old Madam Song saw them enter, she was beside herself with joy, yet still reproached Song Chuyi: “What does it look like, standing in the courtyard like that? I know you’ve been thinking constantly of Brother Yan, but it makes it seem as if we don’t miss our grandson.”

Xiang Mingzi sat close beside Old Madam Song, resting her head on her shoulder and laughing along: “Exactly. She’s clearly seeing that I have no brothers or sisters and deliberately trying to provoke me.”

Old Madam Song’s expression turned serious as she stroked her hair and scolded: “Nonsense! What do you mean you have no brothers or sisters? Which person in this entire household isn’t your brother or sister?”

Song Yan knew of this cousin’s background. Hearing this, he sincerely cupped his hands toward Xiang Mingzi: “Grandmother speaks correctly. I am Elder Sister’s younger brother, and I am also Cousin’s younger brother. Everyone in this household is your brother or sister, Mingzi Elder Sister.”

After this trip away, he not only understood human relationships and social proprieties, but also knew how to read situations—truly Tang Mingzhao was not one of those pedantic poor scholars who only knew how to recite the classics and sage’s words. Old Madam Song nodded repeatedly in satisfaction: “Brother Yan speaks correctly. One family are all brothers and sisters. Anyone who dares to distinguish between blood relatives and cousins before me is asking for a beating!”

That evening they enjoyed dinner together in harmony. Song Yan clung to Song Chuyi, insisting on escorting her back to Guanju Courtyard. As they walked, he asked questions the entire way, inquiring in minute detail about how she had lived these past years, whether she had suffered any grievances from that bastard uncle-in-law when she was in Qingzhou. Finally he asked: “Today Grandfather and Grandmother sent me to pay respects to Father. I saw that his health has mostly recovered. I’m afraid this illness is merely a sickness of the heart, isn’t it?”

When Song Yan went to Shu to study, he was still only a seven-year-old child. No matter how clever, he was still limited. But after these three years, having read many books and met many people, his insights were naturally different from before. He saw through Song Yi’s awkward situation in one glance.

Song Yan also knew about the matter of Song Yi being framed and imprisoned back then. But the letters had said this matter was already resolved long ago. Song Yi wouldn’t be brooding and dispirited until now just because of that—he must have done something else disagreeable to be in such an awkward position in the household.

He held Song Chuyi’s hand, his eyes bright as he looked at his elder sister: “Did he do something absurd again?”

Song Chuyi originally didn’t want to tell him. She knew Song Yan was different from before; if he knew, he would probably develop a rift with Song Yi. But thinking it over, she herself would probably be busy with Cui Shaoting’s matter recently, and feared Song Yan would turn his attention to this instead. After thinking it through, she spoke lightly to him about Song Yi taking it upon himself to accept Duke Yingguo’s token.

She had already tried her best to speak of the matter gently, also mentioning that Song Yi had fallen ill after being severely scolded by Old Madam Song. Even so, Song Yan was furious beyond measure. His hand gripping Song Chuyi’s trembled faintly. He had witnessed firsthand how Shen Qingrang had treated Song Chuyi with disdain and hurled insults before. Moreover, he was no longer a small child who understood nothing—he knew of Duke Yingguo’s household’s awkward position and dire straits. In such circumstances, for Song Yi, someone who mingled in official circles, to still think of marrying Song Chuyi off there… He gave a cold laugh, his eyes and brows carrying a chill, yet his grip on Song Chuyi’s hand grew even tighter: “Elder Sister, don’t worry about anything. In the future I will definitely work hard on the civil examinations. No one will be able to marry you off carelessly!”

Song Chuyi nodded earnestly, not at all feeling this was a rash youth boasting idly. Turning her head, she saw Ziyun’s somewhat anxious expression and reached out to straighten Song Yan’s clothing: “Good. I’ll wait for that day. You’ve been traveling all day today. Hurry back to your room and rest. Tomorrow Uncle and Aunt will come to see you too.”

Song Yan still had a belly full of doubts in his heart, but hearing Song Chuyi say this, he temporarily swallowed them all back down and obediently followed Yushu back to Chuzhou Pavilion. He had just returned, and Old Madam wasn’t at ease with the maids in his quarters who had been idle for three years, so she specially assigned Yushu to serve him temporarily.

After seeing Song Yan across the bridge, Song Chuyi turned back to look at Ziyun: “Is there news?”

Ziyun nodded, brushing off the fallen petals from her hair while telling her: “News came from Qing Zhuo’s side, saying it’s still arranged for tomorrow at Chongyin Workshop.”

Though Song Chuyi was anxious, she hadn’t expected the message could be transmitted so quickly. At most it had only been four or five days—could it be that Zhou Weizhao had already made contact with Ye Jingkuan? She looked at the brightly lit Chuzhou Pavilion across the way, her hand hanging at her side slowly clenching into a fist.