“Husband.”

Seeing Jiang Xingjian approach, Song Wan gave him a gentle smile.

Jiang Xingjian’s heart tightened, and he found himself unable to look at her directly.

“Have you finished speaking with Father?”

“Yes.”

Song Fu nodded. Seeing Song Wan’s sweet expression, he couldn’t help but smile and say, “There are many rules in the palace. You two have been busy all day—return to your courtyard and rest. Tonight, we two shall drink heartily together.”

“We obey Elder Brother’s instruction.”

Jiang Xingjian watched Song Fu leave. The smiles on both husband and wife’s faces faded simultaneously.

The two walked forward in silence. Song Wan clutched tightly the small box Song Fu had given her, feeling much more at ease in her heart.

After leaving the palace, the shame and grievance that had lingered in her heart, along with those faint, elusive feelings and the dejection and panic from being rejected, all dissipated one by one after seeing her elder brother.

“Madam, the courtyard is very clean. The residence must clean it regularly, and all the bedding has been replaced with new sets. If you’re tired, you can go to the inner chamber for an afternoon rest.”

After entering the courtyard where Song Wan had lived in her youth, Heng Zhi looked around.

She and her sister had grown up in this courtyard with Song Wan. Returning to this familiar place naturally brought joy to their hearts.

“Miss, the bamboo wind chimes you hung yourself are still on the corridor.”

Song Wan glanced at the faded wind chimes and smiled faintly.

Since releasing her hand, Song Wan had not taken the initiative to approach him again. Seeing the master and her two servants walk into the courtyard without a single person paying him any attention, Jiang Xingjian felt uncomfortable once more.

Song Wan had already entered the house. Inexplicably, he quickened his pace as well. But just as he entered her childhood bedchamber, both of them froze at the doorway.

Having left six years ago, Song Wan no longer remembered what was placed in the room. Seeing these things again now, she felt only a confused sense that people had changed though objects remained.

Throughout her bedchamber, traces of Jiang Xingjian could be seen everywhere.

The two had been betrothed since childhood. When she could barely speak clearly, she already knew her future husband was named Jiang Yi.

The Marquis residence and Song residence were old family friends with regular exchanges during holidays and festivals. When young, Jiang Xingjian loved to give her small things—sometimes a calligraphy copybook, sometimes a clay figurine, or perhaps a string of porcelain bead bracelets. The items weren’t particularly expensive, but most were delicate and exquisite. She loved them very much.

The set of zodiac animal wood carvings she had taken to the Marquis residence was especially her treasured favorite.

Twelve animals, four each year—he carved them over three years, and she treasured them for nine years, personally witnessing how the carving marks evolved from rough and childish to lifelike and vivid.

“This hairpin…”

The young lady’s bedchamber exuded warmth and playfulness everywhere. All the gauze curtains throughout the room were either goose yellow or moon green, with one or two pink-white porcelain pieces as accents, creating an elegant and fresh atmosphere—vastly different from the Longxiang Study where she had lived as a widow in the Marquis residence.

On the most prominent mother-of-pearl dressing table in the room sat a white jade plum blossom hairpin.

Song Wan’s face turned ashen, somewhat regretting letting Jiang Xingjian enter her bedchamber.

“This hairpin… why didn’t you take it to the Marquis residence?”

On the day they left the capital, he had personally placed this plum blossom hairpin he had carved for so long into her hair. Originally it was meant as her birthday gift that year, but fearing he couldn’t return in time, Jiang Xingjian had given it early.

Now touching the warm white jade, his heart constricted slightly.

Even now, he seemed able to feel the excited joy he had experienced that day.

“As a widow, one should observe chastity quietly and purely. Such objects could not be taken to the Marquis residence.”

Song Wan took back the white jade hairpin from his hand and found a red velvet brocade box from beneath the dressing table to place it inside. Seeing Jiang Xingjian staring at her, she hesitated briefly, then withdrew the hand that was about to return it to the dressing table and instead turned to hand it to Heng Zhi.

“Miss, Young Master, the bedding has been aired. Would you like to rest?”

“Prepare it.”

Having risen before dawn to enter the palace, then being left by Imperial Consort Jiang in the small garden for most of the day, Song Wan had long felt unable to continue.

Seeing that Jiang Xingjian appeared very interested in her bedchamber, she let him observe while she herself went behind the gauze curtains to rest.

Jiang Xingjian turned his head, only to see beyond the gauze curtains a graceful silhouette removing the ornaments from her hair. The young lady’s figure was exquisite, slender, enchanting and lithe. His face flushed with heat, and he averted his gaze.

Seeing that he neither left nor appeared to want to rest, Heng Zhi and Heng Wu found themselves in a difficult position.

“You may leave.”

Jiang Xingjian lowered his voice, dismissing the two.

For a time, only he and Song Wan remained in the room. That person seemed extremely tired—after just a short while, light breathing sounds came from within, indicating she had already fallen asleep. Jiang Xingjian smiled faintly, then his expression turned cold as if recalling something.

Earlier, when meeting Song Lan’an, every sentence had revolved around why he had delayed returning for these six years and what he had done at the border.

Jiang Xingjian only felt the man had a guilty conscience, yet he had no choice but to respond carefully.

The faint stirrings that had just arisen dissipated again with this thought. He gazed at Song Wan resting behind the gauze curtains, his eyes gradually darkening.

“Miss…”

“Mm?”

Song Wan’s eyes were drowsy. When awakened by Heng Zhi, she still couldn’t quite distinguish what time it was.

“The Young Master says he wants to return to the Marquis residence. He asked this servant to help you arrange your makeup and refresh yourself.”

“How long did I sleep?”

Heng Zhi lowered her eyes. “Not even half a shichen.”

“…”

Song Wan frowned at Jiang Xingjian sitting on the embroidered stool, suddenly having the impulse to let him return alone.

“Never mind, help me with my makeup.”

Heng Zhi rearranged her hair and makeup, changed her into the dress Madam Song had sent, and after dressing neatly, she followed Jiang Xingjian to take leave of her parents and elder brother.

“The residence has already prepared wine and dishes. Why not dine before returning? After all, we’re only two streets apart—it won’t make you very late.”

Madam Song spoke to persuade them to stay, but Jiang Xingjian said, “The Marquis residence is busy. Now that Ah Wan manages the household affairs of the residence, they cannot do without her.”

Hearing this, everyone in the Song residence felt much more reassured. Madam Song had servants prepare a carriage and had all of Song Wan’s belongings and dowry carried to the Marquis residence. Heng Zhi and Heng Wu also held many items in their hands. Including the additional gifts from Imperial Consort Yun, Song Wan’s assets from this trip could match more than half of the Marquis residence.

Upon returning to the Marquis residence, she began registering and cataloging everything, recording one by one the items bestowed by Imperial Consort Yun and her own dowry.

The detailed dowry list needed to be submitted to the residence’s record office for registration. Moreover, a storeroom needed to be opened in Lanting Courtyard to store these items. With various matters big and small, there was quite a bit to do. By the time Song Wan and the maids of Lanting Courtyard finished their work, the sky had darkened so completely that one couldn’t see five fingers ahead.

“Miss, everything is accounted for. Only one item is missing.”

“What’s missing?”

“The Harmonious Immortals painting bestowed by Imperial Consort Yun.”

Hearing this, Song Wan’s face flushed red, but she knew that aside from Jiang Xingjian, no one else would have taken it. Her complexion alternated between red and white, increasingly unable to understand that man.

“Never mind. Record the painting in the register. However the Young Master chooses to handle it afterward is up to him.”

Song Wan didn’t know what Jiang Xingjian wanted to do with that Harmonious Immortals painting. Jiang Xingjian himself didn’t know either.

He looked at the painting spread across his desk, his expression so dark it seemed water could drip from it.

He didn’t want to develop feelings for Song Wan, but…

Jiang Xingjian rubbed his face roughly, utterly dejected.