Originally, the matters involving Xu Liang and Jia Yingxin hadn’t even been cleaned up yet—he still had a whole mess of shit to deal with. But at a time like this, not only did Han Zhi not help, he actually had the leisure to scheme against Song Yan and provoke Song Chuyi. Now he’d become so audacious that he wanted to kill the Song siblings right here. Thinking of that letter delivered into his hands yesterday, he felt his palms grow sticky and damp with cold sweat.
If Song Chuyi and Song Yan died today, tomorrow the news that he, Prince of Dongping, had partnered with the Marquis of Jinxiang’s heir to open a gambling den would spread throughout the entire capital! Even Elder Chen, who supervised the Censorate, probably couldn’t stop those censors from running their mouths. Opening gambling dens, killing people, loansharking…
He looked at his cousin, whom he’d always trusted deeply, with bitter disappointment. For the first time in his life, he couldn’t suppress wave after wave of fury surging from the depths of his heart: “Do you know that if you kill them today, I’ll be finished tomorrow?!”
Han Zhi frowned and backed up several steps until he was leaning against the door, silent for a long while. Speaking of which, it was strange—at first, he’d genuinely come with the intention of helping his cousin the prince. First, he’d use Song Yan’s token and IOU to threaten Song Chuyi, then have Song Chuyi go home and find a way to pull strings—never mind Elder Song, even Song Jue had gained great favor in this case involving the selling of official positions. As long as someone from their family was willing to lend a hand, and if his cousin the prince could get through to Elder Chen, with two elders intervening, even Imperial Guard Commander Lai Chenglong probably wouldn’t dare to truly pursue them to the bitter end.
But his plan had been so well laid out—how was it that when it came down to it, rage surged up instead, and he’d uncontrollably wanted to kill Song Chuyi and Song Yan? He recalled Song Chuyi’s eerie smile and her provocative words, sentence by sentence, then thought of Prince of Dongping’s sudden appearance, and suddenly it dawned on him—he’d fallen into Song Chuyi’s hands yet again. She’d done it deliberately, deliberately provoked his rage, deliberately made him appear before Prince of Dongping as someone who disregarded the big picture and only cared about his own satisfaction—a selfish wretch.
Prince of Dongping waited for him to speak, but when no words came, he furrowed his brow with a cold laugh. He reached out to push open a crack and look outside. Song Chuyi was lowering her head to speak with Song Yan, her face still wearing that comfortable and pleasant smile, as if there were nothing beyond her control.
This kind of person was truly the kind of help he wanted. He turned his head, looked past Han Zhi, and ordered Guan Shan: “Go apologize to Sixth Miss Song on behalf of your master for being rash in this matter. Return all their belongings and people to them completely, and see them out properly.”
Even this wasn’t enough. Unfortunately, he couldn’t show his face right now and leave evidence for others to use against him—otherwise he should go down personally and apologize to Sixth Miss Song and Fourth Young Master Song. Zhou Weiqi’s resentment toward Han Zhi couldn’t help but deepen another layer. Seeing Guan Shan still focused on watching Han Zhi, he barked at him: “Why aren’t you going already!”
Over these years, the Marquis of Jinxiang’s household doing whatever the Fan faction of the Eastern Palace asked had become routine. Once certain things become habit, they’re very difficult to change. Just as Grand Madam Fan felt that it was only natural for the Marquis of Jinxiang’s household to sacrifice anything for them, Zhou Weiqi also naturally came to truly regard himself as the master of the Marquis of Jinxiang’s household and even of his cousin. Giving orders over his cousin’s head, he also found it perfectly reasonable.
Guan Shan didn’t dare delay any longer. He responded and ran downstairs in a fluster, apologizing profusely for half the day. He had people bring out A’Heng’s family and Jiang Yuan, then put all the IOUs A’Heng had signed into an envelope and presented them.
Song Yan took them in hand and examined them one by one himself. He reached out to refasten the sachet to its cord, then raised his hand and tossed the envelope into the burning charcoal brazier, where it was instantly burned clean and dry.
One foolish mistake was enough. He would never again become a burden to his sister, to be manipulated by others.
A’Heng shrank his head and approached Song Yan with a shameless face, wiping away tears to pour out his grievances: “It’s all thanks to you, senior brother. If not for you… I would have been ruined here for life.” He looked at Song Yan and pursed his lips: “It’s a pity that foolish elder brother here is useless. Now I’m left without a roof over my head or an inch of land to stand on. Who knows where I’ll end up wandering in the future—I just feel sorry for my wife…”
Song Chuyi watched him coldly, then glanced at the woman behind him trembling while holding a child, and silently sneered inwardly. Even at this point, having already gained so many benefits from Song Yan through Han Zhi, he was still preparing to squeeze another layer of oil from Song Yan.
Disappointment flickered in Song Yan’s eyes as well. He called out to Guan Shan and pointed at A’Heng to ask him: “How much silver did you give him?”
Guan Shan froze in place and instinctively glanced up at the second floor.
A’Heng had already realized what was happening. He immediately pushed even his wife forward, watching his child cry in distress as he shrieked: “It’s not my fault, A’Yan! It’s not my fault! It’s all this ignorant and greedy woman who forced me to lie to you for a few mouthfuls of rice and a few doses of medicine… I, I had no choice…”
Lacking backbone, weasel-headed and rat-eyed—all the gentle, refined, and scholarly demeanor he’d pretended to have before had now transformed into this ugly visage. Song Yan finally understood that all kinds of people existed in this world. For the sake of someone like this, he’d nearly wagered his entire life, nearly caused his sister to be trapped here.
A’Heng’s wife clutched her child and stumbled from being pushed, falling to the ground with both hands covering her face, crying miserably with tears streaming down her cheeks.
Song Yan finally understood just how complex and terrifying human hearts could be. He looked at the exquisite and eye-catching purse and sachet at A’Heng’s waist, then looked at his wife dressed head to toe in plain clothing with only a wooden hairpin holding up her hair, and suddenly felt he understood many things.
A’Heng felt uncomfortable under Song Yan’s gaze. He looked toward Guan Shan as if seeking rescue, hoping Guan Shan could throw him a lifeline—he’d already figured out that Song Yan had come with ill intentions today.
But Song Yan truly couldn’t be bothered to look at him even one more time. Someone like this didn’t need him to waste effort dealing with. As long as he didn’t bring A’Heng out with him today, his fate would only be to become cannon fodder for Han Zhi’s fury.
And he no longer wanted to be a bleeding-heart fool.
Everyone should pay the price for what they’d done—whether it was A’Heng or himself, it was all the same.
A’Heng had originally thought Song Yan would righteously scold him or order the servants behind him to give him a beating. But he hadn’t expected Song Yan to simply take his sister’s hand, turn around, and walk away directly.
He breathed a sigh of relief. Thinking of the two-thousand-tael banknote tucked in his pocket, thinking of the gentle and tender words from the girls at the Yihong Pavilion these past days, a relieved smile spread across his face. But before his smile could even reach his eyes, Guan Shan viciously kicked him. His head smashed into the corner of the table in front of him, his eyes rolled back, and he passed out.