The bamboo planted in Ningde Courtyard rustled in the wind, its lush emerald green appearing especially soothing under the glow of the lanterns—nothing like the tumultuous storm at Songtao Courtyard tonight.
Song Yan straightened slightly and glanced toward the window. His beloved elder sister, whom he had constantly worried about and kept in his thoughts during his time in Jinzhong, now seemed somewhat weary as she leaned against the window frame, her long curled lashes covering her eyes so that he couldn’t discern her expression.
Yet Song Yan suddenly realized, as if by divine inspiration, that his sister was actually crying.
His nasal passages suddenly felt blocked, bringing a sense of sadness mixed with fear. He looked up at Song Chuyi, his expression sincere and earnest: “Sister, are you very afraid of me?”
Over the past several months, Li Shi had repeatedly hinted, both directly and indirectly, that Song Chuyi didn’t like him and often avoided him. The dislike wasn’t real, and hatred was certainly impossible, but the frequent avoidance—that was true.
Later, he often wondered: during the year and more he spent in Jinzhong, what kind of life had his sister lived in the manor? Was she also constantly lectured by Li Shi, told that the Cui family didn’t care about her, wouldn’t even do her the simple favor of taking her along, leaving her alone to drift in the Earl’s Manor? Was it because of this that his sister harbored resentment and therefore didn’t like being close to him?
Song Chuyi shook her head violently, but then stood there in a daze like a wooden post.
In her previous life, she had often harbored resentment at not being able to go to the Cui family together. That feeling of abandonment had haunted her day and night like a nightmare, often leaving her pillow wet with tears.
But later, the younger brother she had neglected was the only one who still remembered her and cared for her. When she suffered cold shoulders from everyone, he shared his already meager silver to look after her and take care of things for her.
In this life, she often felt apprehensive, like one approaching their hometown with trepidation. Whenever she saw Song Yan’s clear, innocent eyes, she felt ashamed of herself. He was her only younger brother, yet through all those long years, she had never been able to help him with anything. Even his life and death—she could only watch helplessly as others decided. She felt uneasy in her heart; she felt guilty. Therefore, facing Song Yan who was still like a blank sheet of paper, she always felt cowardly and afraid, thus avoiding and yielding to him. But they should have been the closest people in this world to each other.
Song Yan was still young, but he had an extremely strong protective instinct toward Song Chuyi. Perhaps due to the Cui family’s teachings, he had always known that despite sharing the same surname, Song Chuyi was different from Song Chuning.
Just like now—though he himself had just stepped through death’s door, he was already anxious to comfort Song Chuyi: “Sister, I know what you’ve been busy with. Maternal Aunt told me everything when she came to see me yesterday. Don’t worry, I was just joking.” He leaned forward and grasped Song Chuyi’s hand, smiling at her with a somewhat ingratiating manner: “The servant you picked for me is very good. This time it was also he who taught me to hide in the water room and cover my mouth and nose with a wet cloth, and it was also he who shouted loudly and brought Uncle Qin. I know you actually care about me very much. Maternal Grandmother said that we are full siblings from the same mother—there’s no one in this world closer to us than each other.”
Song Chuyi choked up and couldn’t speak, sitting on the brocade stool by Song Yan’s bed, nodding repeatedly.
Yes, there was no one in this world closer to them than each other.
“It was sister who was wrong before.” Song Chuyi stroked his head again and again, as smoothly as if she had done it a thousand times: “Sister won’t do that anymore. A’Yan, when the maternal family only took you, it was truly because you were still young and, being a boy, needed more care. You mustn’t feel sorry toward me because of this. This was how it should have been.”
To throw both children left by a deceased wife onto the maternal family to raise for a year or two—anyone would worry about the damage to their reputation. The Song family firmly refused to let both go together. The Cui family had no choice but to select the younger Song Yan.
Yet both the Cui family and Song Yan felt they owed Song Chuyi because of this.
Song Yan’s eyes brightened somewhat, making him appear even more spirited. He gripped Song Chuyi’s hand tighter, his voice tinged with joy: “Then we’ve agreed—we’ll never mention this matter again, all right?”
Song Chuyi touched his head, finally feeling the stone weighing on her heart suddenly lighten. Like one who had been walking a thousand miles dragging a heavy burden, only to finally realize that burden was actually unnecessary, she smiled with relief and joy, learning anew how to interact with her younger brother.
Song Chengru rushed back to the Earl’s Manor in great haste. He merely glanced once at Songtao Courtyard, and towering waves rose in his eyes. He hurried without stopping toward Ningde Courtyard, exhaling deeply, looking at Old Madam Song with gravity written all over his face: “His Majesty also heard about the fire at our residence and specifically told me to return early.”
Old Madam Song was having her morning meal. At these words, her soup spoon stopped in midair. After a long while, she nodded with a solemn expression and sighed: “Our inner residence needs to be properly reorganized.”
“Have the eldest daughter-in-law take this opportunity to sell off those who should be sold, and release those who should be released.” Song Chengru’s voice was flat, seemingly no different from usual: “The fifth son’s wife has been gone three or four months now, so we can begin looking for a new match for him. As for the second son…” Song Chengru laughed coldly, seemingly filled with infinite mockery and disdain: “After this incident, with two wives dead within six years, it’s best not to think about this matter for now. I doubt any family would be willing to marry their daughter to him.”
Regarding Cui Shi’s death back then, Song Chengru truly hadn’t heard a thing from beginning to end. Even when he had some questions about where Cui Shi’s close servants had gone, Old Madam had covered it up by saying Li Shi was already pregnant.
So much so that now, he couldn’t even hold his head up before the Cui family.
The Cui Shi he had personally gone to the Court of Imperial Sacrifices to request a matchmaker for, whom he had married—in the end, she met such a fate.
Thinking of this, he also harbored some resentment toward Old Madam: “When Li Shi married him, Cui Shi’s corpse was still warm… Do you think the established families in the capital truly had nothing to say? Now it’s only been six years, and Li Shi has also died under unclear circumstances. Since he cannot manage his inner residence properly, then leave it empty for now.”
Those few concubines were all from within the manor and couldn’t stir up much trouble. The second branch couldn’t withstand any more turmoil.
Old Madam Song, having been married to him for so many years, naturally knew he was now extremely dissatisfied with the second son. Moreover, she herself bore some responsibility in this matter, so she couldn’t say much more in persuasion and dejectedly nodded.
Song Chengru then stood up and walked toward the washroom. Passing by the screen, he stopped and turned back to look at Old Madam Song: “That group of people probably doesn’t need further interrogation either. No matter what results come from questioning them, turn them all over to the Shuntian Prefecture. Arson and assault, attempting to harm their masters—let them also know what the law means!”