The rain in the south was infuriatingly abundant. After finally clearing up for a few days, the sky suddenly turned overcast again and poured down torrential rain. The downpour was so heavy that people dared not go out—anyone who ventured outside would inevitably be drenched through.
Song Chuning stood by the window watching for a while, then for some unknown reason suddenly flew into a rage. She reached out and slammed down the window prop with a sharp crack, causing the window to shut with a thunderous bang that made Cuiguo jump in fright beside her.
Changsha truly wasn’t a place fit for human habitation. In summer it was so scorching hot that people felt like they were catching fire, and in winter so bitterly cold that one could barely move. Though she had only been in the south for about a year, chilblains had already appeared on her feet. Her toes felt numb and itchy, causing terrible discomfort. In her anger, Song Chuning casually grabbed the scissors from the nearby basket and stabbed down at her own foot.
“Miss!” Cuiguo was so frightened that two of her three souls fled her body. She let out a shriek, her soul barely clinging to her, and rushed to snatch the scissors from Song Chuning’s hand, crying out, “Your foot is bleeding!”
Madam Fang entered shortly after. Seeing this scene, she couldn’t help but freeze in shock, then quickly stepped forward. Sure enough, she saw fresh red blood seeping through Song Chuning’s white embroidered shoes. She stood rooted to the spot, completely dazed.
She had originally thought that Song Chuning was simply heartless toward others, but now it seemed that Song Chuning could be equally ruthless to herself. Cuiguo carefully removed Song Chuning’s shoes and socks, revealing her big toe dyed completely red with blood—a truly shocking sight. Fortunately, hot water was kept boiling day and night. She ordered a young maid to bring water in, wiped away all the blood from Song Chuning’s foot, and applied medicine while cradling her foot.
Watching Song Chuning, who seemed oblivious to pain, Madam Fang found it utterly incomprehensible. “You were perfectly fine—why torment yourself like this?”
She had heard of people using knives on others, but someone stabbing themselves was truly rare.
“It was itching unbearably, so I thought of a way to make it stop itching,” Song Chuning replied with a casual laugh, looking up at Madam Fang. “Well? Is there any news?”
Her logic was truly difficult to understand. Madam Fang stood there stunned, shaking her head, somehow feeling somewhat guilty. “I’m afraid this matter won’t succeed. We learned that he set out on the seventh day of the eleventh month, but we haven’t discovered any trace of him along the way. We can’t even find him—how can we make our move?”
The faint smile that had just appeared on Song Chuning’s face instantly vanished without a trace. She pursed her lips and furrowed her brow.
How could Song Jue possibly be so cunning as to know to release false information about his departure time, then secretly change his route and departure time? Only Song Chuyi would come up with such an underhanded scheme.
She had actually started guarding against Song Chuning early on. Song Chuning didn’t know whether she felt more angry or more resentful. She kicked the water basin away with her foot, watching the splashing water with an expressionless face.
Always one step behind Song Chuyi, always just that little bit short—why was it always just that little bit short?!
Suddenly she didn’t know how to vent the fury in her heart. She grabbed the shoe-making hook needle nearby and began stabbing at her toes.
Madam Fang staggered backward several steps in succession, looking at Song Chuning as if viewing a madwoman. In fact, she truly feared Song Chuning had gone mad. She exclaimed in shock, “Have you lost your mind?!”
Song Chuning punctured each chilblain one by one, watching the blood continuously flow through the broken skin. With complete indifference, she flung the hook needle aside and stared directly at Madam Fang, lifting her eyelids mockingly. “Next time you fail, I won’t be taking it out on myself anymore.”
Madam Fang felt a chill rise from the soles of her feet straight to her heart, nailing her feet firmly to the spot so she couldn’t move a single step—if she didn’t take it out on herself next time, then on whom? Wei Yanxi? Herself? Or Madam Qin, whom she depended on for survival? Suddenly she didn’t dare imagine, and for the first time felt that perhaps she was scheming with a tiger for its hide.
Meanwhile, in the capital’s Song Manor up north, they finally received good news. Old Master Song handed the thin letter to Old Madam Song, glancing at Song Chuyi with both surprise and delight. “Little Yi truly has brilliant foresight—your elder brother really did send back a letter.”
Old Madam Song put on her reading glasses and read the letter several times before feeling relieved. She couldn’t help but agree, “Fortunately these siblings had made plans beforehand and discussed which route to take, otherwise something really might have happened. In his letter, Brother Jue mentions that people were asking about his whereabouts along the way using his portrait.”
And who besides Song Chuning would know Song Jue’s appearance so clearly? They just hadn’t expected that Song Chuning would actually have the capability to pursue him all the way to Sichuan.
After praising Song Chuyi, she had Yushu go report to the main courtyard. “Tell your eldest madam that Brother Jue has already sent word. He’ll arrive in the capital in about half a month, so she can set her mind at ease.”
Yushu responded with a smile, curtsied, then turned to lift the door curtain and left.
Old Master Song then brought up the matter of going to Jiangnan to raise disaster relief funds. “We should depart in three to five days at the latest. I probably won’t even be able to return for the New Year, so be careful in everything at home.”
Old Madam Song had already mentioned this to Song Chuyi before, so Song Chuyi wasn’t surprised, but she was still somewhat worried. “This journey to Jiangnan is quite far after all, and the weather is severely cold now. Grandfather, you must take good care of your health above all.”
Old Master Song smiled and nodded. “You don’t need to remind me—your grandfather knows this. Don’t worry.”
“As for raising the disaster relief funds…” Song Chuyi hesitated for a moment before saying, “Does Grandfather have a plan in mind?”
She really couldn’t interfere in these matters. After all, it hadn’t happened in her previous life, and moreover, it concerned the Ministry of Finance, with many intricacies and insider knowledge that an outsider couldn’t even begin to grasp.
Old Master Song stroked his beard with a laugh. “Is Little Yi worried that your grandfather can’t do accounts properly? Rest assured, I have my own plans.”
Having navigated the Ministry of Finance for so many years, hadn’t he stumbled his way through the Yellow River floods, the great Shaanxi drought, and the northern military provisions and salaries? He had long since become immune to all poisons. Besides, this time he was only going to act as a supervisor—listening more and doing less would suffice.
“After all, the salt merchants and wealthy traders have intricate webs of interests behind them. Grandfather, there’s no need for you to be the one who stands out and attracts attention.” Seeing that Old Master Song had the same idea, Song Chuyi felt much more at ease. “Since Elder Chen intends to have you play the villain, you might as well ‘conveniently fall ill’ during the journey. Minister Fang surely won’t truly play the quail all the way through, will he?”
Old Madam Song couldn’t help but laugh, looking at Old Master Song and complaining, “I said this girl is mischievous and cunning, yet you insisted this shows she has plans in mind.”
Old Master Song also laughed in response to Old Madam Song. “How is this not having plans in mind? Little Yi isn’t wrong. Should only the officials be allowed to set fires while the common people aren’t permitted to light lamps? This time I really will play this quail role.”