Wen Yunwan certainly did not truly believe that nonsense about having a particularly keen nose.
But Song Yanzhou had served as Minister of the Dali Temple in his previous life, and his powers of observation were astonishing. Of course she chose to believe him.
After all, no matter when, Song Yanzhou had never harmed her.
The owner of the horse ranch was also afraid of being held responsible, so she cooperated fully with Wen Yunwan's actions and even added fuel to the fire from the side:
“Miss Wen, Xiaobai, Xiaozong, and Xiaohei are all horses you've reserved—horses meant for you alone to ride. We've always taken excellent care of them. How could we possibly have fed them something they shouldn't have eaten?”
Wen Yunwan did not answer her.
Winterzhi had already returned.
Her expression was grim as she approached, her voice clear and her eyes cold:
“Miss, there is a small packet of poisonous celery on Cuiyu.”
Wen Yunwan nodded. “Bring it back.”
She did not bother with the Zhou siblings, who were still trying to explain themselves. She turned around, intending to thank Song Yanzhou, only to discover that he was already gone.
The young man walked alone beneath the sunlight, yet he still seemed lonely, as if no matter how fierce the sun grew, it could not dispel the thin haze surrounding him.
Wen Yunwan curled her lips and walked out of the horse ranch on her own.
Song Yanzhou left on foot.
Not long after he had walked out of the horse ranch, someone came running after him from behind.
“Jieyuan Song, wait!”
Song Yanzhou turned around. It was the maid who stayed by Wen Yunwan's side.
The coldness had already left the little maid's face. Holding two porcelain jars, she pushed them into Song Yanzhou's hands without giving him a chance to refuse, speaking in a rush:
“Our young lady was worried that you were injured. Please don't refuse these two jars of ointment. Take them.”
As soon as she finished speaking, as though afraid he might reject them, she ran back in a flash.
Song Yanzhou raised his eyes and saw her nimbly climb into the carriage.
She should be all right.
The porcelain jars felt cool against his palm. He tightened his grip around them, then put them both into his cloth bag.
“Mother!”
After returning home, Wen Yunwan did not care whether Madam An was still nearby. She plunged straight into Madam Lin's arms and began to cry.
“What happened?”
Madam Lin hurriedly gathered her into her arms, heartbroken. “It’s all right, it’s all right. Mother is here.”
Winterzhi recounted everything that had happened that day in a precise, orderly manner.
Madam An's face turned pale, then flushed red.
No sooner had Winterzhi finished than the Zhou siblings came rushing in.
“You two wretches!”
Furious, Madam An charged forward and slapped Zhou Huai'an across the face.
“How did you take care of your sister? How could you let your Yunwan suffer such a grievous injustice?”
“Where is that vile maidservant? Bring her here!”
When Madam An said those two things, Wen Yunwan understood.
Most likely, that Cuiyu was going to take the blame for everything.
She refused to lift her head from Madam Lin's arms. She listened to Cuiyu sobbing as she confessed her guilt, then listened to the Zhou family's apologies, and found them utterly hypocritical.
What a gutless fool.
Cowardly, spineless, and dishonorable.
She was talking about Zhou Huai'an.
Madam Lin glanced at Madam An, her expression indifferent.
“I’ll have the steward arrange rooms for you at the finest inn. For the time being, it would be better if our two families kept our distance.”
Madam An had known her for more than twenty years and understood her temperament. Once she made up her mind, she would not change it.
Since Madam Lin had said they should keep their distance, Madam An could not shamelessly remain in Suzhou. She could only apologize again and again.
“I’ve caused you trouble. I’ll take the children back to Yangzhou. Once Yunwan is feeling better, I’ll have them come visit her.”
Suzhou and Yangzhou were not far apart, but Lord Zhou had only been appointed prefect of Yangzhou the previous year. As the prefect's wife, Madam An could not easily free herself from her duties.
Madam Lin had no intention of giving her even the slightest bit of face. “We’ll see.”
Madam An was, after all, in the wrong. She could only murmur her agreement before leaving Wen Residence.
As she departed, she happened to run into Wen Zhiyuan returning home.
He had heard that his daughter had nearly been thrown from a runaway horse at the ranch and had hurried back.
In front of Wen Zhiyuan, Zhou Huai'an acted much more dependable. He respectfully bowed and offered his greetings.
Wen Zhiyuan gave a quiet acknowledgment. He did not put on much of a show before a younger man.
“I hear you’ve become a juren?”
Choked by Wen Yunwan's words earlier, Zhou Huai'an no longer dared to act smug. He humbly said that it was merely a beginning, then abruptly changed the subject.
“I wonder if Uncle Wen knows Song Yanzhou?”
Wen Zhiyuan nodded. “This year's jieyuan from Suzhou.”
“This is something I ought not to say, but I’m truly worried about Yunwan. After thinking it over, I felt I should inform Uncle Wen.”
Wen Zhiyuan looked at him. “Go on.”
“We were touring the horse ranch together today, and Song Yanzhou was there as well. It seems he works at the ranch. He saved Yunwan, and because of that, Yunwan has begun to…”
Zhou Huai'an paused, then smiled.
“She should certainly be grateful to him. But Yunwan is still young, after all, and since Jieyuan Song does not come from a particularly distinguished family, I’m afraid Yunwan might suffer.”
Wen Zhiyuan's eyes darkened. He smiled and patted Zhou Huai'an on the shoulder.
“You’ve gone to a lot of trouble.”
He asked nothing else.
Not why his daughter had been injured, nor why Song Yanzhou had saved her, nor what had actually happened at the horse ranch.
Zhou Huai'an no longer dared to play any little tricks under his watch. After taking his leave, he hurried away.
Wen Zhiyuan turned around and quickened his steps.
He needed to see how his precious daughter was doing.
“Have the shops in Yangzhou look into what exactly happened to the Zhou family.”
Madam Lin's voice was frighteningly cold.
The Lin family's shops were famous throughout the Jiangnan region, with trade routes running directly to Shengjing.
Madam Lin was the one who called the shots.
She had never paid particular attention to the Zhou family before. After all, Madam An was her close friend, and she had never deliberately made inquiries. Whenever something happened, Madam An would simply write to her about it.
But now, the Zhou family was acting far too strangely.
If they had some other objective…
Lin Ziqing narrowed her eyes.
Then they could not blame her for being ruthless.
She glanced at her daughter. The little girl had stopped crying long ago and was happily eating chilled milk curd.
When Wen Zhiyuan entered, he saw his wife, who had clearly been angered, and his daughter, who was eating her chilled milk curd without a care in the world.
“Father, you’re back.”
Wen Yunwan stuffed another spoonful of chilled milk curd into her mouth.
Seeing that she was completely unharmed, Wen Zhiyuan let out a sigh of relief.
“Zhou Huai'an said Song Yanzhou was the one who saved you?”
Wen Yunwan nodded. “Yes.”
“He also said that you treat him differently.”
Wen Yunwan nodded again, wrinkling her nose.
“Zhou Huai'an is so annoying. I only used Song Yanzhou to provoke him a little.”
Seeing that her expression was perfectly normal, Wen Zhiyuan said nothing more. Only after she finished her chilled milk curd and returned to her own courtyard did he turn to Madam Lin.
“Zhou Huai'an has ulterior motives. I know he’s your close friend's son, but he seems to have some purpose involving our daughter. Keep an eye on him.”
Madam Lin shot him a glance. “Did you need to tell me that?”
Wen Zhiyuan fell silent.
All right, then. He had been sticking his nose in where it was not needed.
Song Yanzhou sat on a brand-new chair. On the rickety little square table before him, there were no brushes or ink as usual—only two lustrous white porcelain jars.
They were small and exquisite. The milky-white ointment inside gave off a light fragrance, without the strong, unpleasant herbal odor of the ointment he used for his injuries.
The two jars of ointment were so utterly out of place amid everything around him.
Just like her. She, too, did not belong in his ruined world, and the two of them should never have crossed paths.
He ought to be using the most ordinary ointment for his injuries, falling asleep to the unpleasant smell of herbs.
Reason told him that, like the bowl of plain congee from the night before, these two jars of ointment should be thrown away.
Yet he could not bring himself to do it.
Because they were too expensive, perhaps.
He had saved her. This was what he deserved.
That was what Song Yanzhou thought.