Wei Tingyu furrowed his brows deeply upon hearing the news.

How could such a significant matter be dictated solely by Song Mo? Where was the authority of the court? What about the dignity of the Five City Military Command and the Shuntian Prefecture?

He couldn’t help but say, “Isn’t it inappropriate for Duke Ying’s residence to offer a large reward for this matter? After all, capturing thieves and criminals is the responsibility of the authorities. By doing this, it makes the Five City Military Command and the Shuntian Prefecture seem like they’re working for you…”

The Earl of Dongping was greatly displeased.

Some things can only be understood implicitly, not spoken aloud.

He cast an annoyed glance at Wei Tingyu and said coldly, “I’m speaking with the heir, where do you have the right to interrupt?” Then, turning back to Song Mo, he continued, “As for the reward, we should discuss it thoroughly with Lord Huang and establish a proper procedure. We don’t know these thieves, and if someone kills an innocent person to claim the reward, how will we distinguish? If someone deceives us, how will we discern the truth?

We mustn’t let the thieves escape while wronging the innocent, leaving the heir with good intentions but a painful outcome. Yet, this matter of catching thieves cannot be delayed,” he pondered, “How about we meet at the Shuntian Prefecture first thing tomorrow? The heir still holds the sword bestowed by Emperor Taizong; we can’t just watch the Five City Military Command and the Shuntian Prefecture work tirelessly, can we?” He chuckled dryly.

The word had already spread, and whatever scheme the Earl of Dongping and Huang Qi were concocting, they could worry about it themselves.

Song Mo responded with a smile.

Wei Tingyu’s face turned crimson with shame, unable to lift his head.

Wang Qinghai, unsure of what to say, sat silently beside him, pouring wine when the Earl of Dongping or Song Mo’s cups ran low. In contrast, Wei Tingyu appeared not only dull but also reminded others of his Marquis status, making him seem somewhat pretentious.

Fortunately, the Earl of Dongping was preoccupied and paid him no mind, sparing him further embarrassment.

After several rounds of drinks, Song Mo and the Earl of Dongping realized that without a decision on the reward, further discussion was pointless. They began to talk about the romantic tales of the capital. Compared to the earlier “innocent” conversation, Song Mo now appeared poised and graceful, neither vulgar nor pretentious, surpassing even seasoned courtiers.

The Earl of Dongping couldn’t help but be amazed, gradually understanding Song Mo’s intentions.

He marveled inwardly.

Who would have thought that Song Yichun, such a timid person, could raise such a formidable son? It seemed that within ten years, Duke Ying’s residence would once again stand out prominently.

This thought made him even more puzzled about the conflict between Song Yichun and Song Mo.

If he had a son like Song Mo, even if the son had stolen his concubine, he would find a way to ensure his son’s bright future, not hinder him.

However, this was ultimately Song Yichun’s family matter.

The Earl of Dongping shook his head slightly, dismissing the thought, and continued to chat and laugh with Song Mo until the second watch of the night before they parted ways.

Wang Qinghai and Wei Tingyu followed the Earl of Dongping, looking dejected like frostbitten eggplants.

The Earl of Dongping called out to Wang Qinghai, “Help me back!”

Wang Qinghai hurriedly assisted the Earl of Dongping onto the carriage.

The Earl of Dongping bid farewell to Song Mo.

Wang Qinghai cast an apologetic glance at Wei Tingyu, regretting that he couldn’t accompany him.

Wei Tingyu forced a smile more painful than crying, nodding slightly to indicate it was fine, urging Wang Qinghai to serve the Earl of Dongping well.

Wang Qinghai breathed a sigh of relief and boarded the carriage after the Earl of Dongping finished exchanging pleasantries with Song Mo.

The carriage slowly moved forward.

The Earl of Dongping, who had seemed tipsy moments ago, suddenly opened his eyes, fully alert, and instructed the coachman, “Quick, turn the corner and stop at the corner of Zuixian Tower.”

The coachman, though puzzled, followed the Earl of Dongping’s instructions without hesitation, turning the carriage and stopping at the corner of Zuixian Tower.

The Earl of Dongping lifted the curtain, and Wang Qinghai saw Song Mo board a carriage without even glancing at Wei Tingyu, leaving Zuixian Tower Street.

The Earl of Dongping closed his eyes again, advising his son-in-law Wang Qinghai, “Dahe, you should limit your interactions with the Marquis of Jining. Not only is he unlikely to achieve great things, but he might also drag you down.”

Wang Qinghai felt as if a storm was raging inside him. He hadn’t expected the relationship between Song Mo and Wei Tingyu to be so strained, nor had he anticipated that his father-in-law would deliberately return to let him witness this scene as a lesson.

He responded with a confused “Hmm.”

The Earl of Dongping didn’t press him further, closing his eyes and allowing the carriage to sway as it took him back to the Earl of Dongping’s residence.

Song Mo was quite satisfied with today’s meeting.

With his performance, the streets and alleys of the capital would likely be abuzz with talk of his extravagant behavior, softening his fierce reputation. Additionally, there was an unexpected benefit—bad news travels fast. By tomorrow night, most people in the capital would know about his discord with Wei Tingyu, ensuring that any trouble involving the Marquis of Jining wouldn’t implicate him.

Feeling as if he had shed a burden, he was in high spirits.

He once again thanked the Buddhas of Western Heaven for Wei Tingyu’s initial acceptance of Dou Ming.

If Dou Zhao had married him, he would have been heartbroken and restless for life.

With these thoughts, Song Mo, freshly washed, looked at Dou Zhao, who was sleeping soundly under the soft glow of the lamp, resembling a lotus flower. He couldn’t resist pouncing on her, murmuring, “Shougu, Shougu…” He kissed her randomly, wanting to wake her, to have her respond passionately, to playfully banter with him, reassuring him that she was in his arms and happy to be with him.

Dou Zhao, feeling suffocated, woke up groggily.

“Song Yantang! What are you doing?”

The quilt was in disarray, her clothes disheveled, and her ample bosom was partly in his mouth, partly being shaped by his fingers, with a faint sting.

“What madness is this?” Dou Zhao said, half-laughing, half-crying.

She didn’t know the Earl of Dongping when he was in power, but the retired Earl was a stubborn old man. She had been worried that Song Mo might have had a falling out with him, anxiously waiting for his return, only to fall asleep in her wait. Now, he returned, and in such a state…

Song Mo released her, leaning forward to kiss her earlobe.

“Shougu, Shougu…” he murmured in her ear, kissing her lips fiercely, more intensely than their first night together.

Did he have a falling out with the Earl of Dongping?

Dou Zhao, unable to speak through her whimpers, finally managed to break free from his embrace, gasping as she asked, “What’s wrong?” only to have her mouth covered again, her bosom seized in his hand.

Dou Zhao felt her whole body heat up, her cheeks burning, and her heart ached for his setbacks outside, so she let him be.

Song Mo skillfully found the pearl within her petals, gently pinching it before entering Dou Zhao’s body.

Dou Zhao let out a low, muffled moan.

Song Mo could feel the dryness of her passage.

He paused, biting her ear as he asked, “Does it still hurt a bit?”

It wasn’t pain, just a strong sense of swelling.

Dou Zhao couldn’t bring herself to say it.

She mumbled a vague “Hmm.”

Song Mo moved shallowly within her.

After just a few motions, her body began to moisten.

Song Mo chuckled softly, pressing her legs down, and thrusting deeply.

Dou Zhao felt embarrassed.

She remembered not being this sensitive.

The pain of childbirth in her past life had long extinguished her romantic dreams. But with Song Mo, he often didn’t need to do much to ignite her.

She could feel her passage becoming slick as if welcoming his presence…

Dou Zhao shivered, feeling aroused.

In her ear, Song Mo’s voice, unable to hide his joy, whispered, “Shougu, you’re wonderful…” The swelling inside her seemed to grow even larger.

Dou Zhao was taken aback.

Song Mo had already flipped her over, lifting her supple waist, and entered her from behind.

Her body felt pierced, lacking the gentle embrace and sweet kisses… It was unfamiliar to her.

“No, not like this!” In her panic, Dou Zhao, her limbs weak, grabbed the bedpost.

“Don’t like it this way?” Song Mo asked softly, his tender kisses falling like spring breezes on her smooth back.

Dou Zhao trembled.

“No, I don’t!” she stammered, her words jumbled as he thrust into her.

“Don’t like it?” Song Mo laughed, biting her ear, allowing his body to plunge deeply into her chamber, “But I like it very much!”

He charged through her body, loosening her chamber.

“Yan, Yantang!” Dou Zhao trembled all over, her speech slurred, “Don’t, don’t do this!”

“This position is too much for me,” she thought.

“Then let’s change positions,” Song Mo whispered in her ear, “Shall we?”

Dou Zhao trembled, barely managing a “Hmm.”

Song Mo chuckled.

But his thrusts grew deeper.

Dou Zhao winced in pain, annoyed at his broken promise.

Just as she cried out “Yantang,” the tide hidden deep within her body surged forth with his movements.

Her soul seemed to be drawn out, floating into the air.

Dou Zhao let out a low scream.

“Shougu!” Song Mo paused, savoring the lingering ecstasy in her body.

Dou Zhao lay limply on the bed.

Song Mo leaned over, lovingly kissing her cheek, Dou Zhao’s eyes closed, and her face flushed.

Song Mo laughed softly, cradling the boneless Dou Zhao in his arms, re-entering her body, and guiding her waist to move slowly.

The swelling pain below brought Dou Zhao back to her senses.

Her ample bosom rose and fell, drawing beautiful arcs before Song Mo’s eyes…

“No, no!” Dou Zhao blushed, weakly pushing him away.

Song Mo, however, captured that vibrant hue.

“No, no, no!” Dou Zhao leaned back, trying to evade Song Mo, only for him to plunge deeply into her chamber again.

Dou Zhao bit her lip, caught between advance and retreat.

Song Mo lifted her higher, letting her fall more heavily.

Her body ached, releasing another warm flow.

“Yantang!” Dou Zhao called out Song Mo’s name in a daze, clinging tightly to his neck.

“Shougu!” Song Mo indulgently held her in his arms, gently exploring her body.

Dou Zhao’s mind felt muddled, yet the sensations below were clearer.

With such frequent intimacy, she thought, she might soon become pregnant!

Before her last bit of clarity faded, this thought crossed Dou Zhao’s mind.