Although she had long lost any affection for Jiang Xingjian, just thinking that she had once admired such a person made Song Wan feel she had insulted her sincere young heart.

Heng Zhi also understood the intricacies of the matter and couldn’t help feeling chilled on behalf of her young miss.

“Miss, was all of this arranged by the marquis?”

Song Wan shook her head. “He doesn’t even need to arrange anything.”

“Lin Jiayue’s thoughts are shallow. She’s ostentatious and never conceals her own desires. Her joy, anger, sorrow, and happiness are all displayed on her face. Manipulating her couldn’t be easier.”

“Once you know what she’s thinking and peer into her heart, you need only follow her thoughts and desires to give her what she wants, and you can easily win her over. The reverse is equally true.”

“Jiang Xingjian knew she loved herself and would certainly treasure the child in her womb greatly. That’s why he personally forced her to miscarry the child. If he hadn’t harbored hatred, there would be no need to waste such effort.”

Somewhat irritably smoothing her hair, Song Wan continued, “He wants both reputation and wealth, so on one hand he oppresses her, yet doesn’t want her to completely hate him.”

Song Wan unconsciously placed her hand over her heart.

“Miss, are you unwell?”

“No, I’m going to write a letter to my brother.”

Suppressing the chill and stuffiness in her heart, Song Wan wrote down the matter of Lin Jiayue miscarrying her own child. After thinking for a moment, she added a few strokes, informing Song Fu that Duke Yingguo’s ninth young miss was an extremely lovely, beautiful, and refined person.

In the last sentence, Song Wan mentioned Ming Xiang’s speech impediment and noted that she was probably afraid of communicating with people. She asked Song Fu to find a few young, well-behaved, and kind-looking maids in advance who could accompany Ming Xiang when the time came so she wouldn’t be worried and afraid when she first married into the Song residence.

Although Song Wan was concerned about other matters, since she was a married daughter and couldn’t meddle in her natal family’s affairs, she didn’t mention anything else.

After sending the letter to Song Fu, she received a reply seven or eight days later.

Looking at the instructions in the letter, Song Wan’s eyes reddened slightly.

In the letter, Song Fu explained that he had already urged their father to bring her back to the residence, but there were still obstacles at present that temporarily prevented him from proceeding. However, he still told Song Wan to pay attention to her own safety and protect herself well in the marquis’s residence.

Secondly, he mentioned that the residence had already sent the betrothal documents to Duke Yingguo’s residence. Regarding Ming Xiang, Song Fu only mentioned her briefly.

For aristocratic families, from the initial meeting to the wedding took at minimum one or two years, at most three, five, seven, or eight years. She had almost never seen anyone as quick as her brother. If a marriage was decided hastily, it usually gave people the impression that the woman wasn’t reserved enough and was desperate to marry, especially for a family of Duke Yingguo’s status.

With just a few brief strokes in Song Fu’s letter, she could see his eagerness for the marriage. With just a little thought, she knew that eighty percent of the reason for rushing this marriage was related to her.

Song Wan’s eyes reddened, feeling bitter inside.

Daughters from ordinary families could bring assistance to their fathers, brothers, and clan. Yet here she was, doing the opposite—everywhere causing trouble for her brother and aunt, making them worry and compromise for her sake.

Since childhood, she had disliked falling behind others. Now she had become a burden to her closest relatives, which made Song Wan inexplicably sorrowful.

“Miss, what did the young master say in his letter?”

Seeing Song Wan’s pale complexion, Heng Wu hurriedly stepped forward to inquire. Song Wan folded the letter and said softly, “Brother said he wants to bring me back to the residence.”

Heng Wu blinked, her round eyes widening like saucers. “Isn’t this good news?”

“Perhaps it’s good news for me, but this was obtained through my brother compromising with Father.”

“Forget it. Talking more is useless—better to do something practical.”

She had Heng Wu bring out a ledger. Song Wan examined it carefully. Written on it were records she had people make of those who had purchased rouge from Huanyan Studio. Aristocratic family women made up more than half. Though not entirely detailed, it was enough for her to make something of it.

“Madam Tan’s serving woman went to Huanyan Studio four times in one month. There’s probably some problem. I wonder if she’s been poisoned by lead.”

“Using face powder for a long time causes blue-black spots to appear on the skin. The only solution is to increase the dosage to cover it up, and other powders can’t conceal these blue marks. If this is truly the case, Huanyan Studio should already have problems. The shopkeeper probably doesn’t dare speak up, and the Tan family doesn’t want to publicize it.”

Song Wan held the account book, speaking softly. “Last time when Aunt mentioned Huanyan Studio in the palace, eighty percent of people took it to heart.”

There were no kind souls in the palace. Who knows—perhaps someone had already made their move but was just holding back, waiting for the right moment.

“Tomorrow, have someone spread word that Consort Jiang is worldly-wise and generous with money. She hasn’t used a single one of those precious powders the marquis’s residence sent to the palace—she’s rewarded them all to servants.”

“Additionally, find a few women to go into the streets and proclaim that they have relatives working as servants in wealthy families who developed problems from using powders bestowed by their masters.”

Song Wan tossed the account book in her hand into a copper basin to soak. “First, let’s see if anyone makes a move. If someone does, I’ll lend them an eastern wind. If no one does, I’ll have someone approach the Tan family.”

Heng Zhi nodded, but Heng Wu said, “Miss, these are troubled times. Why not properly wait for the young master to bring you back to the residence? Why take such risks to provoke those two heartless wretches?”

Ever since learning that Jiang Xingjian was black-hearted enough to even scheme against Lin Jiayue, she refused to even call him “marquis” anymore.

Usually those two were so affectionate—one constantly saying “a perfectly matched couple,” the other always “Jiayue, Jiayue.” Who would have thought that in such a short time he would strike so viciously?

Clearly when they first returned to the residence, he treasured her so much he would rather step on her miss to give face to his sweetheart. How did things suddenly turn so hostile now, as if they wanted each other dead?

The more Heng Wu thought about it, the more frightened she became. She couldn’t help gripping Song Wan’s hand tightly. “Miss, I’m afraid he’ll harm you. This person is so vicious even toward his beloved—who knows what he’ll do to you?”

“Why don’t we just continue as we are now and wait for the young master to come? After all, the young master also said it would only be about a year or so.”

Hearing this, Song Wan’s brows curved and she smiled gently. “Silly Heng Wu, even if my brother wants to rescue me from this fiery pit, I must first extend my own hand. Otherwise, I fear not only will I fail to save myself, but I’ll also implicate others.”

Seeing Heng Wu obediently nod after hearing her words, Song Wan smiled faintly.

If her brother truly had confidence, he would only directly say when and where he would bring her back to the residence. He would never mention anything about “still having obstacles.” By informing her this way, her brother probably felt uncertain. He both wanted to reassure her and feared giving her false hope.

One must know that power and influence are difficult to obtain and even harder to maintain. As long as the situation remained unclear for even one day, as long as who would sit in that highest chair in the Nine Chambered Court Hall remained undecided for even one day, her father would not easily offend Jiang Man and the marquis’s residence.

The world was unpredictable. In the court, people came and went. Who could know whether someone wearing purple python robes today wouldn’t become a prisoner tomorrow?

No matter how badly the marquis’s residence had fallen, it didn’t mean they couldn’t rise again.

Song Wan lowered her head, her mouth tasting bitter.

She didn’t resent her father for abandoning her. She only worried that because of her, her brother would become estranged from their father. If that happened, she would be unfilial and disloyal to her siblings.

“If I can escape this cage by my own strength, I’ll try as much as possible not to burden my family. Otherwise, my heart won’t be at ease.”

Heng Zhi and Heng Wu’s hearts also ached. The mistress and two servants all sighed together.