Song Luo walked up to Song Nian and held out the oil-paper package, still radiating warmth, in front of him.
"Who said I went to see a man? I was standing in line to buy sesame crisps for you, brother."
Her voice was soft and gentle, carrying a slight tremor from the night breeze.
Song Nian froze for a moment, his gaze falling on the oil-paper package.
That old-established shop east of the city only made two batches of sesame crisps a day, and to get your hands on them, you had to queue for a full hour and a half.
They were his favorite snack on ordinary days.
He never expected that this little sister of his, pampered and spoiled since childhood, would actually go stand in line all alone for so long, just to buy him this treat.
His eyes suddenly stung with warmth, and the anger in his heart melted away like spring water in an instant.
In that moment, Song Nian forgot completely about how Song Luo had angered him that morning.
"A-Luo, your brother wasn't scolding you. I was just so worried about you."
Song Nian let out a sigh, his tall frame bending slightly so his gaze met hers at eye level.
"You're a young lady, going out alone, not coming home this late. I was terrified something might happen to you. This capital may be prosperous, but there's no shortage of filthy business in the dark alleys. If you'd run into some ruffian…"
"How could your brother go on living?"
Song Nian couldn't continue.
Thinking of the countless dangers he had imagined befalling Song Luo during that long wait, his heart clenched tight. The terror, like being plunged into an icy abyss, still left his fingertips cold even now.
He straightened up and stood before Song Luo, his tall frame shielding her from the cool night breeze.
He slowly reached out and gave a firm rub on top of Song Luo's fluffy head. The gesture seemed rough, but it was so gentle, as if he feared hurting her even the slightest bit.
"Have you eaten, A-Luo?" he asked softly.
Song Luo was naturally petite, with a delicate frame, and her cheeks still carried a trace of baby fat that had yet to fade. When she looked up at people, she appeared especially obedient and adorable.
Hearing Song Nian's question, she pouted with a hint of grievance and shook her head, her tone carrying a touch of coy petulance: "No, brother. I'm about to starve to death. There were so many people in that line, and I was so afraid of missing my turn that I didn't even have a sip of water."
The moment Song Nian heard that Song Luo was hungry, his eyes filled with both heartache and guilt.
He quickly turned his head and raised his voice toward the steward: "What are you waiting for? Hurry up and have the meal served! Is everything the young lady likes prepared in the kitchen?"
The steward hurried forward and bowed in response: "Yes, everything is kept warm on the stove, all of the young lady's favorites."
Song Nian nodded with satisfaction.
Naturally, he took the package of sesame crisps from Song Luo's hands, while his other hand carefully guarded her side, as if afraid his little sister might vanish from sight.
In Song Nian's eyes now, there was only Song Luo.
His mind was entirely occupied with the image of his little sister standing hungry in the cold wind, queuing up to buy him pastries. He completely forgot that there was another person in this vast courtyard.
Jiang Mingyue stood there for a while. Watching the two of them chatting and laughing, about to step through the hanging-flower gate, with Song Nian not once looking back, she could no longer hold herself back.
Forgetting all about propriety and restraint, she gathered her skirts and hurried after them.
"Wait for me, Nian-ge."
The person ahead did not turn around.
"Nian-ge, I can't run fast."
In the night breeze, her delicate voice carried a note of urgency and a hint of reproach toward Song Nian.
Song Luo, walking ahead, heard her voice and curved her lips inwardly in a cold smile.
Good.
She had come chasing after them after all.
Song Luo and Song Nian both halted their steps and looked back.
Jiang Mingyue truly did possess a face that inspired pity—that was how she had become the one closest to Song Nian's heart.
Her features were not particularly striking or dazzling, but she excelled in gentle temperament and skin white as snow, exuding a fragility born of years spent bedridden with illness.
Just seeing her running over at this moment, looking as if she might shatter at any second—the faintly reddened corners of her eyes, her impossibly slender waist—any man would feel the urge to protect such a delicate beauty.
Sure enough, the moment Jiang Mingyue looked up, she saw Song Nian's gaze pass over Song Luo and land on her once more.
Song Nian's brow furrowed slightly, a subconscious flicker of concern passing through his eyes.
Jiang Mingyue was secretly pleased with herself.
She knew exactly how to use her advantages.
Her foot stumbled, and her body seemed to suddenly lose all strength, like a light falling leaf. Calculating the angle perfectly, she deliberately threw herself toward Song Nian's arms.
"Oh, dear." She let out a startled cry.
Seeing Song Nian's expression tighten, his body instinctively moving as if to reach out and catch Jiang Mingyue's flying form—
But this time, Song Luo was faster than him.
Like a nimble rabbit, Song Luo darted sideways with a whoosh, planting herself squarely between Song Nian and Jiang Mingyue.