◎The Continuation of the Song Family and Song Zhiwei, No Male or Female Leads◎

Wu Qingchuan was dead, yet the disposition of the Duke Songguo’s household remained suspended. The Empress extracted information from the Emperor and said to the Crown Princess who had come to the Changle Palace to pay her respects: “This Majesty of ours probably fancies himself a compassionate and merciful deity once again.”

Sure enough, at the end of the eighth month, after Duke Songguo tore off his own garments and wrote a petition in his own blood before dying by smashing his head in prison, the Emperor was greatly grieved. He did not condemn the Song family to confiscation and extermination according to their crimes, but instead spared the lives of the others, permitting the Song family men to be exiled to the southwest, while the Song family women would have their family wealth confiscated and be returned to their ancestral home.

Fortunately, the young generation of Song daughters had all married out. The Second Young Master and Third Young Master’s wedding dates had been set late because Song Zhiwei had not settled on a match beforehand—at the time, the Yu family and the Zhe family had been quite critical, believing Duke Songguo and his wife were too biased toward the eldest son, which was simply going too far.

As it turned out, now that the Song family had met with disaster, having a late wedding date and not yet being married became an enormous stroke of fortune.

Madam Yu prostrated herself before gods and Buddhas for several days straight, kneeling in every temple and Taoist shrine in Luoyang. She also distributed charity congee everywhere, giving thanks to heaven for its protection.

Finally, she personally called at the door to see the Duchess of Songguo, grasping the hand of the woman who was still ill and saying: “Who would have thought that elder sister possessed such magnanimity, knowing that your family’s fate was nearly spent and deliberately delaying the wedding date—back then I even complained that elder sister was too arrogant and domineering, but now I finally understand your good intentions. You didn’t want my child to come and suffer.”

She laughed heartily, patting the Duchess of Songguo’s hand and saying: “Just for this merit alone, you won’t descend to the eighteenth level of hell even after death.”

The Duchess of Songguo was already physically and mentally exhausted, having been listless and ill for many days. Now, being ridiculed this way, she could no longer bear it and instantly fainted.

Seeing this, Madam Yu put her palms together: “How sinful, how sinful.”

She departed happily with her proclamations of sin.

When the Duchess of Songguo awoke, the sky had already darkened. The room was frighteningly quiet, with only one old servant woman attending to her.

Having lived a life of silk and jade her entire existence, how could she have ever suffered such indignity? But matters had already reached this point—she had to shoulder this family’s burden.

She said to the servant woman: “Go to the Wu household and invite Madam Wu here… After thinking it over, these past years she’s been the only one sincere toward me. As for the others, I dare not hope for anything.”

The servant woman went to knock on the Wu family’s door in the middle of the night.

Madam Wu: “…”

For a long while she had no reaction whatsoever.

When she heard the servant woman tearfully wailing that the Duchess of Songguo now only trusted her, she found it somewhat both laughable and lamentable.

Well then, maintaining dignity had become a fault as well.

She waved her hand, unwilling to involve herself in the Duke Songguo household’s affairs any further. She only took out some money for the servant woman: “This is just for you. You’re a loyal person, still willing to stay by her side at this time—that’s truly not easy. But I also have a whole household to manage. Where would I find the time? The Song family has plenty of relatives—finding anyone would be better than finding me.”

The servant woman urgently said: “If there were any other option, my mistress wouldn’t have…”

Madam Wu patted her hand: “Your mistress and I have no blood relation, no ties—we even have grievances.”

The servant woman froze, only then remembering that back then, the mistress had also wanted to seek a match with the Wu family’s daughter for the eldest young master.

She stopped pleading and returned to the residence in a daze clutching the silver. The Duchess of Songguo urgently asked: “Why did you come back alone?”

The servant woman said in a low voice: “Madam Wu isn’t home—she’s returned to her natal family.”

The Duchess of Songguo wailed: “She went back to her natal family specifically to avoid me, didn’t she!”

She cursed again: “What a wolf-hearted, dog-lunged wretch! When she made that terrible match proposal before and caused all that trouble, did I ever blame her? Now she’s avoiding me, showing no consideration at all.”

The servant woman didn’t dare say a word, letting her curse. But having received Madam Wu’s kindness, she defended her silently in her heart: clearly it was Madam Yu today who was the culprit who made the mistress faint with anger, yet she didn’t dare curse her—she only grabbed Madam Wu to curse at. That was going too far.

The servant woman just kept waiting. By the time she finished cursing, it was nearly the hour of the rat.

The Duchess of Songguo instructed the servant woman: “The day after tomorrow, Zhiwei and the others will leave for the southwest. Have the silver and everything been prepared?”

The servant woman nodded: “Yes.”

She paused: “Mistress, you must also leave.”

This residence would be sealed the day after tomorrow.

The Duchess of Songguo shed more tears and cursed: “I am irreconcilable enemies with the Crown Prince’s faction!”

The servant woman hastily covered her mouth, sighing: “Mistress, you can never say such things again.”

Her hand wasn’t pressed tight, but the Duchess of Songguo didn’t struggle or move. She simply wept in a suppressed manner against that hand—heart-rending, yet without making any sound at all.

How had things come to such a state?

When a great mansion topples, tiles and bricks should fall. But the Song family—it was like a cliff that had suddenly broken off, with no possibility of restoration whatsoever.

She thought this way, and the other Song family members were no exception.

In the prison, Third Young Master Song glared fiercely at Song Zhiwei, cursing angrily: “Father warned you again and again—endure, endure, endure! Why couldn’t you endure, but instead mixed yourself up with people like Wu Qingchuan? Now look what’s happened—you’ve gotten Father killed, and we’ve all become prisoners!”

Song Zhiwei leaned against the wall, sitting motionless.

Third Young Master Song was so angry that cursing alone wasn’t enough to relieve his rage. He walked over and punched Song Zhiwei: “What are you pretending here! You’re the Song Duke’s household’s criminal—you should kneel down and beg Father’s spirit in heaven for forgiveness, beg the Song family’s ancestors for forgiveness!”

Song Zhiwei was knocked to the ground but didn’t say a word.

Even now, he still hadn’t figured out everything.

Why did Lan Shanjun know about the poems he’d written, and could imitate his handwriting?

Could it really be that Father had private dealings with Wu Qingchuan? Then why didn’t Father tell him?

Could he really have been Father’s expendable piece, with things only going wrong midway, causing Father to lose everything as well?

He took a deep breath, climbed up, and continued sitting quietly, thinking through causes and consequences.

Third Young Master Song became even angrier seeing this. He rushed over, grabbed Song Zhiwei’s hair and beat him: “You’re still pretending here! You’ve been like this since childhood, acting as if you’re so much nobler than me and Second Brother. What of it? We all have the same parents—aside from being born a few years earlier, what else makes you better than us?”

Song Zhiwei still didn’t resist. Even beaten until his nose and face were swollen, he didn’t make a sound. Second Young Master Song couldn’t stand watching anymore and came over to restrain him: “At a time like this, we three brothers should be united.”

Third Young Master Song was about to die of anger: “United? How can we be united? Do you see even a trace of remorse in him?”

As he spoke, his voice choked up: “Poor Father, walking on thin ice before His Majesty for decades, finally getting this far, only to end up dying by his own hand.”

“And Mother… When has he ever taken Mother seriously these twenty-some years? How many tears did Mother shed over his marriage prospects, yet every time he just brushed it off, never bothering. Now look—Father’s dead, Mother has no one to care for her, she probably won’t live much longer—”

Hearing these words, Song Zhiwei’s body trembled, but he pressed his lips together and turned his face away, still refusing to speak.

Third Young Master Song burned with fury. He went over and gave him another slap: “Say something! What right do you have to remain silent! Things have come to this—if you’d just say a few soft words, say a few words about how you’ve wronged our parents, I wouldn’t be this angry with you!”

Song Zhiwei was struck until his mouth bled, his ears ringing for a long time.

He tilted his head sideways. After quite a while, he came back to himself and gritted his teeth, holding on.

Facing his shameless appearance, Third Young Master Song became so enraged he slapped himself twice. Second Young Master Song hastily went to stop him. Third Young Master Song then embraced him and wept: “All these years we’ve offended many people. We probably won’t survive the exile journey. Second Brother, you and I brothers—we’ll probably only have these two days together.”

Second Young Master Song said softly: “Before Father died, I heard he submitted a blood petition to His Majesty. That’s why His Majesty spared us. Since he’s spared us, I imagine that in these next two years while His Majesty still remembers Father, no one will dare kill us.”

Third Young Master Song looked up: “Really?”

Second Young Master Song: “Really.”

Only then did Song Zhiwei look toward these two brothers—especially toward Second Brother, who usually didn’t stand out.

Seeming to see his confusion, Second Young Master Song smiled bitterly: “Elder Brother, don’t look at me like that. I truly am not someone with great wisdom, and I have no intention of concealing my abilities. But I still understand basic principles.”

He paused and said: “I know that for the Duke Songguo’s household to reach this point, Father also had his schemes—we can’t blame you entirely. But that final step, you must have instigated Father to side with Prince Qi, which led to this outcome. This guilt, you must acknowledge.”

He shook his head at this point and sighed: “I just don’t understand—our family was already so well off, why did you all insist on going one step further? And why did you insist on competing with others?”

Song Zhiwei finally spoke his first words in these past days: “Compete with whom?”

Second Young Master Song: “Naturally with Yu Qingwu.”

“Don’t you know it yourself? Ever since the forty-fourth year of Yuanshao when Yu Qingwu placed third in the palace examinations and was celebrated by everyone, you couldn’t contain yourself anymore.”

Song Zhiwei pressed his lips together: “I did not.”

Second Young Master Song didn’t argue with him. He only said: “You see, even having fallen to such a state, you still won’t admit it.”

“But whether you admit it or not, from the moment Yu Qingwu returned to Luoyang and step by step walked ahead of you, blocking your reputation, you became anxious. Later, when he married the young lady from Duke Zhenguo’s household whom you’d proposed to, you became even more anxious.”

Third Young Master Song sneered: “That’s not all. On the surface, he acted unconcerned about his reputation for preferring men, but actually his heart was full of resentment, constantly wanting to turn things around.”

“I told Father back then that your thoughts ran deep and you cared about face. Not only did you pretend to be nonchalant in front of others, you even pretended in front of your own family. I told Father to talk to you, but Father said I was jealous of you—ha! What do I have to be jealous of? Jealous that you want face but lack ability? Yu Qingwu finally presented the opportunity for fame right before you, yet you couldn’t grasp it and became even more desperate.”

Song Zhiwei said darkly: “What opportunity for fame?”

Third Young Master Song said heavily: “Having you collect the debts—search your conscience, if Yu Qingwu had done this, he definitely wouldn’t have cared about dignity and would have collected those debts. But he saw right through you, never believing you could collect them, so he dug a pit for you to jump into. You fulfilled his wishes—not only did you fail to jump out, you dug your own grave!”

Song Zhiwei’s breathing grew heavier and heavier. Seeing his emotions finally change, Third Young Master Song spoke with even more enthusiasm: “Ha! Looking back now, it was from that moment you felt your abilities might be looked down upon, so you took bigger steps, but you didn’t walk steadily and ended up harming the whole family!”

Reaching the last sentence, he felt no relief either, but wept in pain: “The Duke’s estate, a hundred years of heritage!”

Song Zhiwei turned his face away and fell silent again.

Third Young Master Song then collapsed to his knees with a thud, shouting at empty air: “Father, look! Look at this—this is your son, the son you valued most!”

The next day, before the group was to be escorted to the southwest, a jailer brought clothes for them to change into.

The filthy garments had a large character for “prisoner” written on them. Looking at that character, Song Zhiwei finally felt the reality of becoming a prisoner.

He wanted to vomit, standing there motionless for a long time.

But the jailer had no such patience. He lashed out with a whip: “What are you standing there for? Do you need me to help you dress?”

Song Zhiwei took a deep breath. The foul stench entered his mouth, making his stomach churn violently.

The jailer frowned and lashed him again. Song Zhiwei had no choice but to grit his teeth, remove his silks and satins, and put on the prisoner’s uniform.

The jailer then led him to see someone.

Song Zhiwei didn’t recognize this person. But he heard this person say to the jailer: “When we reach the destination, naturally someone will come to receive him and take him to a manor to recuperate. At that time, please be accommodating.”

The jailer accepted his silver and nodded with a smile: “Easy to arrange, easy to arrange.”

That person left in a hurry.

Song Zhiwei asked: “Who was that person?”

The jailer: “If you don’t even know, how would I know?”

He made a motion to strike: “Get lost, don’t delay my work.”

Song Zhiwei pressed his lips together: “Didn’t you accept his silver?”

The jailer burst out laughing: “They only said to receive you for recuperation, but they didn’t say I couldn’t whip you along the way.”

On the contrary, they implicitly suggested he should do whatever he normally would along the journey.

The jailer couldn’t figure these things out. These wealthy people always had so many secrets. The reason he’d survived this long was by only taking silver and not asking questions.

But this matter was also quite strange. He pondered in his heart: if Song Zhiwei was still tormented as usual along the way, wouldn’t that just be using the promise of recuperation in the southwest to keep him from dying?

After all, there were countless prisoners who died on the road.

The jailer smacked his lips and shook his head: “Don’t know who hates him this much.”