Qing Tao happened to bring in clothes for scenting and, hearing this, couldn’t help but let out an indignant breath that formed white mist. “She has the nerve to cry! Our young mistress has died and she didn’t cry, but these people who drove someone to death are crying! I’d like to see what kind of spectacle she can cry up!”

Luyi had always been more quick-witted. Hearing this, she blinked and wanted to take Song Chuyi out for a walk. “Why don’t we go see this Old Madam Xiang’s performance? I heard that when our Third Master went to their house to discuss divorce, this Old Madam Xiang pounced on him and viciously scratched several marks on our Third Master’s face. They haven’t faded even after all these days.”

Their mistress Song Chuyi’s temperament was growing colder and colder, almost to the point where if no one asked her questions, she wouldn’t speak more than a few words all day. These maids had to be more lively to prevent Song Chuyi from truly becoming a taciturn gourd over time.

Song Chuyi smiled and shook her head, picked up her brush to write a letter, and handed it to Ziyun. “Have Nanny Xu deliver it properly. This time send it to Wang San at the dock.”

Ziyun had been delivering letters for Song Chuyi frequently these past two weeks. Hearing this, she wasn’t surprised and could tell this letter wasn’t going to the capital. She wiped her hands, took the letter with a smile, and agreed, then advised Song Chuyi, “What Luyi and Qing Tao said isn’t unreasonable. Miss, if you keep yourself cooped up at home all the time, you might develop some problem—this place is different from the capital. I’ve seen that many young ladies from wealthy families aren’t confined. When there are lantern festivals, they go out on their own too. It would be good for Miss to occasionally go out and get some fresh air.”

Song Chuyi glanced at the letter in her hand, thought for a moment, then nodded in agreement—she indeed wanted to see this Old Madam Xiang. Speaking of heartless betrayal, Shen Qingrang and Xiang Yunzhang had their differences. Shen Qingrang’s mother, Madam He, didn’t interfere much in their marital affairs and sometimes even protected her somewhat, although most of the time she was happy to see Shen Qingrang treat her coldly.

But this Old Madam Xiang truly exceeded Song Chuyi’s imagination. She felt it necessary to observe this Old Madam Xiang, who was so different from most noble ladies in the capital, so she could give such people a wide berth in the future.

Seeing her agree, Luyi was so delighted she immediately clasped her hands together and recited a Buddhist prayer, prompting Qing Tao to twist her ear with a laugh. “It’s just going out for a bit—look how happy you are!”

But she was already busy instructing people outside to prepare the carriage.

Song Chuyi personally went to ask Old Madam’s permission. Old Madam Song agreed without hesitation and instructed Song Chuyi, “Don’t run around recklessly. Just stay in the carriage or find a refined teahouse to sit in. Don’t run into the Xiang family face-to-face either—there’s no reason to break a jade vase trying to hit a rat.”

Madam Li thought for a moment and asked Li Xintong and Li Xinwu behind her, “Why don’t you go along to see the excitement too? You can keep Xiaoyi company.”

The Li sisters also wanted to see the excitement. Hearing this, they glanced at Song Chuyi and, seeing her smile welcomingly without any objection, agreed with smiles.

Old Madam Song then arranged for Nanny Qin and Nanny Xu to protect them together as they went out.

Today, because the Governor was holding court to try the Prefect, the streets were packed with people watching the excitement, layer upon layer. The Song family’s carriage finally managed to turn past the most prosperous Luyang Street with great difficulty and entered the rear yamen area.

Compared to Luyang Street, there were fewer people at the rear yamen. The coachman barely managed to drive the carriage beside the teahouse across the way. Seeing the severe crowding, Nanny Xu and Nanny Qin asked through the curtain if Song Chuyi and the Li sisters would go upstairs to the teahouse. “Find a private room facing the street—you can see just as well from there.”

Song Chuyi and the Li sisters found this feasible. Wearing veiled hats and escorted by servants, they entered the teahouse and went up to a second-floor private room. Sure enough, once seated, they could see Old Madam Xiang sitting right across on the doorstep, pulling several grandchildren and crying with tears and snot, creating quite a scene.

When Old Madam Xiang cried, it was like performing opera—wailing with musical tones. Every time she reached a sad point, she would pause to produce several rising and falling crying sounds, not much different from the tones actors on stage used for transitions, prompting the Li sisters to scoff disdainfully.

“This really is like the social opera performances during New Year’s,” Li Xinwu couldn’t help but curl her lips. “There’s no sincerity in her crying at all—no wonder it doesn’t move anyone.”

What Song Chuyi noticed first, however, was a boy of about ten sitting beside Old Madam Xiang—he wasn’t burying his head and shaking his shoulders like the others. When watching Old Madam Xiang cry, his face even showed faint disdain, disgust, and irritation.

Calculating his age, this was probably Xiang Yunzhang’s eldest concubine-born son, Xiang Lian.

Hadn’t they said he was half-dead with illness? Clearly that was a joke too.

Just as she was thinking this, Old Madam Xiang had already let out a sound and temporarily stopped her singing-like crying. She grabbed the clearly forbearing Xiang Lian and, after several more sounds, began her crying song again: “My poor child! Only ten years old and about to be harmed by people, losing both father and mother… Those heartless high officials and noble ladies… They want to exterminate our Xiang family…”

Li Xintong finally couldn’t help herself and touched Song Chuyi with her hand. “This… this old madam is really quite… unique.”

The Li sisters probably had never seen such a scene in their lives. Song Chuyi was feeling somewhat embarrassed when she suddenly saw a commotion below—Xiang Lian, whether genuinely angered to the point of illness or feeling too ashamed and pretending to faint, suddenly collapsed headfirst to the ground.

Old Madam Xiang’s crying thus became even more resounding. She threw herself on Xiang Lian’s body, her cries shaking the air. “Your father and mother face dire straits ahead, and now you’re like this—how is this old woman supposed to live!”

With New Year’s approaching and every household steaming rice wine, yet the Prefect’s household was in such turmoil—it truly was pitiful…

The onlookers couldn’t help but feel some sympathy, and a kind-hearted woman even stepped forward to help Old Madam Xiang up.

Song Chuyi turned her head and instructed Qing Tao a few words. Qing Tao nodded and hurried downstairs.

Before long, several tall, burly men emerged from the crowd saying they would help—they would carry Xiang Lian to see a physician. But just as they lifted him, Xiang Lian woke up.

Someone with a loose tongue shouted, “Isn’t he perfectly fine?! How was he about to die?”

Someone in the crowd responded, “Exactly! I heard the Xiang family’s young miss—the legitimate daughter born to that madam—was about to be burned to death because of this young master. Now she’s nowhere to be seen. Where did she go?”

The wrinkled flesh on Old Madam Xiang’s face trembled. She grabbed her precious grandson and cursed through gritted teeth, “Damn it all! The witch doctor said she was a calamity star sent from heaven. Now hasn’t our family been ruined by her curse? If your family had such a harbinger of misfortune, would you dare take her out?”