Song Jue waited for Song Chuyi outside Ningde Courtyard. Including the months spent in Shu, it had been nearly half a year since he’d last seen Song Chuyi. After such a long interval, the smile in his eyes deepened even further.

The young girl had grown much taller, and her entire demeanor had changed. Previously, no matter how composed she appeared, she still looked like a child pretending to be an adult. But now at a glance, one couldn’t help but feel that her composure had fused into her very bones—she was far more steady than half a year ago, and even more difficult to read.

Yet Song Jue didn’t find anything frightening about her. He naturally waited for her to approach and walked alongside her. “You little sprite are truly formidably clever—it seems there’s nothing you can’t predict accurately.”

Song Chuyi knew he was referring to Song Chuning’s matter and turned her head to look at him. “But I heard that Big Brother was too softhearted and nearly caused a major disaster. Isn’t that right?”

This little girl had only just returned half a day ago, yet she already had every detail crystal clear. Song Jue felt somewhat amazed. “You’re so young, yet you have so many things to worry about. I really don’t know how you manage it.”

For someone who had watched her son and younger brother die, and who had died once herself, there was nothing that couldn’t be endured, and nothing was simply black or white.

Song Chuyi didn’t find it hard, nor did she find it unbearable. Having things to do was better than having nothing to do. People with utility value always lived longer than those without—she understood this principle very well.

Only when facing Song Jue did Song Chuyi’s heart grow somewhat softer than usual—in both past and present lives, her eldest uncle and big brother had never wronged her.

“If Big Brother hadn’t been softhearted and let that girl out, I wouldn’t have so many things to worry about now.” She tilted her head and frowned at Song Jue, her expressive eyes seeming to gather all the starlight in the sky, making it impossible to look away. “Look, she’s just a girl, and one who’s already lost the ability to move, yet she could still attract the Li family’s people.”

The Li family’s people weren’t the main concern. What Song Chuyi feared most was Song Chuning going crazy to the point of dragging everyone down with her in death—if she took the opportunity to say something to Prince Duan or even Han Zhi, she’d probably have to expend considerable effort in the end.

Song Jue felt somewhat guilty. He lowered his head to glance at Song Chuyi and shook his head. “It’s my fault. This Eighth Sister’s capabilities truly far exceeded my expectations. The Li family sent people again yesterday, and from their tone, they probably won’t give up without seeing Song Chuning.”

Of course—anyone who could know both past and future, who wouldn’t treasure them as a gem?

As long as Song Chuning revealed even a little bit of utility value to the Li family, it would be enough to keep them utterly devoted. Moreover, Song Chuning had already colluded with Prince Duan beforehand. For the Li family, who couldn’t advance any further, this was probably like timely aid in snowy weather—a wonderful opportunity.

No matter who it was, they wouldn’t be willing to let such a piece of dripping fat pork be steamed and cooked by others.

Song Chuyi smiled at him like a fox that had stolen a chicken. “Big Brother need not worry about this at all. Now that Grandmother has returned, could she possibly be unable to handle the Li family’s people?”

Song Jue laughed and escorted her to Guanju Courtyard before stopping. He extended his hand to pass her a thick stack of letters. “These are all from Brother Yan for you. I’ve been keeping them for you. Wait until tomorrow morning to look at them—there are so many letters, don’t stay up late and ruin your eyes.”

The light in Song Chuyi’s eyes brightened even more. This time, genuine smiles truly tinged the corners of her eyes and brows. She accepted the letters and sweetly agreed, then asked him, “How is little nephew doing?”

The winter wind made her dress rustle loudly. Song Jue made a stern face and urged her inside. “Won’t you see him tomorrow? Even if I told you, you couldn’t picture him. Hurry inside, otherwise if the wind blows you away, who will pay New Year respects at the Cui family tomorrow?”

Song Chuyi stuck out her tongue and made a face at him. Nanny Xu had already come out with a lantern to greet her.

Once inside the room, the chill from outside completely dissipated. She let Luyi and Qing Tao remove her outer cloak and lay on the table to read Song Yan’s letters.

But she had only just opened the first letter under the lamplight and had only glimpsed the signature at the bottom when she heard the door creak open with a squeak, followed by a gust of cold wind that made the letter paper on the table tremble and shake.

Ziyun entered carrying a body full of cold air, surprisingly with beads of sweat still hanging on her forehead. “Miss, word has come from outside—they say that the Eighth Miss at Tingxiang Pavilion passed away tonight.”

Song Chuyi’s movement of organizing the letter papers paused. Although she had thought her calculations were quite thorough and knew that this time Song Chuning would find it difficult to escape even with wings, when she actually heard the news of Song Chuning’s death, she still felt a moment of disbelief.

Song Chuning seemed to have died too easily, and too quietly.

Song Chuyi had originally thought there would be quite a commotion for a while, but who knew she would just die like this.

Luyi and Qing Tao exchanged glances, both feeling it was rather sudden. “When we went to inquire about news this afternoon, we didn’t hear that her condition was critical. How did she suddenly die?”

Ziyun wiped the cold sweat from her forehead, her face wearing a bitter smile. “Dead is dead—what does it matter if it’s sudden or not? Right now, Tingxiang Pavilion is brightly lit everywhere. First Madam has already rushed over with the servants.”

Song Chuyi caught sight of that exquisite, beautiful invitation, with the four characters “Marquis Jinxiang’s Mansion” particularly glaring.

Ziyun looked at Song Chuyi and sighed, her tone sounding worried. “Miss, Old Madam and First Madam’s meaning is for you to go over there.”

Song Chuyi asked nothing. She knew that if Song Chuning had simply died, Old Madam Song and First Madam Song wouldn’t go to such unnecessary trouble specifically calling her to look at a corpse.

But when her gaze touched upon Song Chuning’s room, even with all her composure, she couldn’t help but be shaken.

The dead person was far from just Song Chuning alone—Nanny Sun and the servants Cuiguo and Lushan who attended her had all died together in the room, each death state utterly wretched.

This wasn’t the most frightening part. Given Song Chuning’s temperament, if she was going to die, she would certainly drag people down with her—she wouldn’t be willing to die silently and without notice.

The most frightening part was the letter Song Chuning had left for her.

The bright red characters spelling out “Song Chuyi” were written in what was either cinnabar or fresh blood, glaring and stark. Under the candlelight’s reflection, the red looked eerie.

Both Old Madam Song and First Madam Song’s expressions were extremely ugly. They pressed their lips together looking at the four corpses in this room, tremendous waves surging in their hearts.

Song Chuyi shook open the letter and glanced at it, then looked at Song Chuning lying motionless on the bed with her eyes already closed. She raised her hand and set the letter ablaze.

Today we have a power outage due to typhoon影响, so I can’t do three updates. Tomorrow will still be the usual three updates. I didn’t expect that Mid-Autumn Festival would be when I couldn’t do three updates—truly sorry. No matter what, Happy Mid-Autumn Festival everyone, sending kisses.