On the seventh day of the first month, Song Jue, who had been in Qingzhou for over a month, finally sent his first letter.

After reading it, Old Madam Song fell ill, lying in bed unable to move, going days without being able to swallow food.

When Song Chuyi went to pay her morning respects, she happened to see the First Master Song emerging from Old Madam’s room, his steps unsteady, as if he had aged several years overnight.

In her previous life, she had been quite afraid of this uncle, always feeling that this future heir to the Earl’s manor possessed more severity than kindness. But when she was on her deathbed, it had also been this uncle who tore into Lady Li and came to see her.

“Oh, it’s Little Six.” Seeing Song Chuyi standing on the steps staring fixedly at him, he straightened his clothing and came forward somewhat uncomfortably to speak with her for a while.

But there were only so many things to say, and once said, there was nothing more. He had never known how to get close to girls. His own legitimate daughters—one was an Imperial Consort and the other a softhearted pushover who would cry at just a few words—so he was even more cautious when dealing with his brothers’ daughters.

Song Chuyi suddenly walked forward several steps and took his hand.

The First Master Song was startled. A man of several decades, his first reaction was actually to step back several paces, nearly shaking off his young niece’s hand.

“Uncle, when the weather clears, will you take me to fly kites?” Song Chuyi looked up at the First Master Song, her face full of longing. “Grandmother says you’re the best at flying kites, better than Father and the others—you can fly them the highest.”

In his youth, the First Master Song had been quite idle, extremely fond of running about flying paper kites. He truly had considerable expertise in this pursuit. He was probably the best kite-maker among all officials.

He smiled somewhat embarrassedly, feeling somewhat more comfortable inside, and agreed readily. “All right, when the weather clears we’ll pick a time. I’ll take all of you together to Huangjue Temple. It’s spacious and beautiful there—perfect for flying kites.”

Previously, the First Madam had mentioned Song Chuyi to him several times, saying the Old Madam was very fond of her. Listening to his wife’s tone, she clearly also regarded this niece with some favor. Now it seemed this little girl was indeed quite endearing.

After all, even his own biological daughters rarely spoke more than a few words with him.

She watched the First Master walk away before turning to enter. Nanny Huang came out with a bitter expression, carrying a bowl of lotus seed soup that had barely been touched, sighing and shaking her head at her.

“This can’t continue.” Nanny Huang told Song Chuyi in a low voice, “From last night until now, she’s only had a few sips of plain congee and can’t eat anything else.”

Song Chuyi entered the room. Old Madam Song was lying on the kang. The underfloor heating made the room warm, and she had only a velvet blanket covering her. Seeing Song Chuyi, she finally showed a trace of a smile.

Song Chuyi quickly stepped forward to grasp the hand Old Madam Song extended, sitting on the brocade stool Yulan had prepared, and gently urged, “Grandmother, how can you keep not eating like this?”

Old Madam Song waved her hand to interrupt, coughed several times, then smiled bitterly and shook her head. “I understand all the reasoning, but thinking that I gave birth to such an unworthy daughter makes my heart ache.”

Even Song Chuxuan was probably more resilient than Song Linlang.

Song Chuyi also felt some of Song Linlang’s actions were simply incomprehensible. Song Jue had traveled thousands of miles to Qingzhou, yet Song Linlang seemed not to know, only meeting this nephew after a full eight or nine days had passed.

Even more outrageous was that Xiang Yunzhang had never shown his face at all.

To neglect one’s legitimate wife’s natal family to this extent—and the natal family was the quite prominent Earl Changning’s manor at that—Xiang Yunzhang’s audacity was truly rare in this world.

Song Jue’s letter said that Song Linlang was extremely ill and refused to see a physician. It would probably be only a matter of these few months. She was not living well in the Xiang family. The old servants who had been by her side had almost all been sent away and were nowhere to be seen.

What Old Madam Song found even harder to bear was that Song Linlang had actually agreed to register several sons born to concubines under her own name to win Xiang Yunzhang’s favor.

“Have all the men in the world died out?!” Old Madam Song suddenly began coughing violently, her emotions agitated. “I taught her for seventeen years, and this is what I taught her to become?! From her marriage until now, how many times has she even come home? The grace of giving birth and raising her—is this how she repays me?”

Old Madam Song couldn’t understand. The daughter she had poured everything into raising—how could she, for the mere sake of a man, cast aside self-respect, trample her pride, willing to be so humble as to grovel in the dirt yet still stubbornly persist to the bitter end?

She couldn’t understand, and that breath of anger became increasingly lodged in her chest, leaving her unable to sit or stand in peace.

When Song Jue sent the second letter, Old Madam Song finally gave up hope. She forced herself to personally write a reply, seeming to age five years all at once.

“I’ve called Brother Jue back.” Old Madam Song leaned against the soft pillow, her head full of silver threads draped over her shoulders, gripping Song Chuyi’s hand tightly. “She’s seeking her own death. I can’t pull her back.”

Song Chuyi also felt somewhat bewildered. She had once thought that changing certain things after being reborn would be easy, but Song Linlang’s life trajectory was still following the path of the previous life. She suddenly felt somewhat alarmed.

This trace of alarm spread from her heart through her limbs and bones, making her shudder.

That evening when Qing Tao came on night duty, she heard her tossing and turning with sighs.

The next morning when she rose, her eyes bore thick dark circles and her complexion was extremely poor.

Nanny Xu was terribly distressed, but knowing that Old Madam had been the same these past days, she assumed it was because of grief over the Old Madam. She complained a few words before going to boil eggs to compress her eyes.

“Qing Tao.” Taking advantage of Nanny Xu going out, she quickly seized the opportunity to look at Qing Tao, her expression quite complex. “The matter I had your parents investigate—is there still no news?”

Logically speaking, after only half a month, it was normal not to have uncovered any information. But Song Linlang’s situation had suddenly made her feel uneasy. She was truly afraid—afraid that fate would still lead her toward the tragic ending of her previous life.

Qing Tao keenly sensed Song Chuyi’s restlessness these past days. She lowered her head and made a promise. “After all, it was seven or eight years ago. It’s not very easy to investigate, but my parents are very dedicated. I’m sure it won’t be too long before there’s news.”

Song Chuyi nodded, raised her head and pressed hard on her temples, trying to suppress that inexplicable headache.

Qing Tao immediately stepped forward several paces to grasp her hand, lowering her voice to urge, “Miss, you’ve been too exhausted lately. You should have Imperial Physician Sun come examine you.”

Only then did Song Chuyi realize she had indeed been unable to maintain her composure recently. She smiled bitterly and, after thinking for a moment, nodded in agreement. “Don’t alarm Nanny. Just accompany me to the ancestral hall.”

These matters weighed heavily on her heart. Aside from Lady Cui, she had no one to confide in.