After the daily meeting concluded, Yan Song left the Court of Justice. The carriage was parked at the side gate, and he bent down to get inside, instructing the driver to return to the residence.
Yan Song was in charge of both the Ministry of Justice and the Court of Justice, with daily tasks piling up like a mountain. Unless it was urgent, he rarely returned home during the day. Chang Qingqing knew exactly why Yan Song was heading home at this time and said, “The little lord is really angry this time.”
“Is there such a thing as fake anger?” Yan Song replied.
“This time is different,” Chang Qingqing pondered. “The little lord cares a lot about Jia De, or rather, he cares about your relationship with Jia De.”
Yan Song flipped through the documents and casually said, “Don’t you think his concern is a bit unreasonable?”
“You and the little lord are too close, you can’t compare it to ordinary brothers,” Chang Qingqing couldn’t help but speak up for Yan Dong. “The little lord has relied on you since he was young. Maybe he still has a child’s mindset, just afraid that if you have someone close or a family, you won’t treat him the same as before.”
Yan Song didn’t respond, and the sound of flipping pages ceased, leaving an inexplicable silence in the carriage. Chang Qingqing had a gut feeling that he had said something wrong but didn’t know what it was.
When the carriage arrived at the side gate of the Duke’s Mansion, Yan Song got off and went straight to Xunfeng Courtyard. From a distance, he saw that the door to the secondary bedroom was open, indicating that Yan Dong was already up. As expected, someone in the corridor said, “The little lord hasn’t had breakfast yet; he’s in the tea room, and Jia De is serving tea.”
Yan Song paused slightly, then turned and walked to the tea room door, just in time to hear:
“Do you have a family?”
It seemed like a simple curiosity, but Yan Song immediately detected the malice in the words, not towards Song Fengmian, but towards himself.
Yan Song often thought of Yan Dong as a little dog, one with a temper, who relied on and was affectionate towards its owner. But if the owner petted another dog, it would sulk, and if the owner didn’t quickly appease it, it would start barking, causing chaos for the owner.
Like now.
“Isn’t that right, brother?”
Yan Song met those beautiful eyes, the corners of which were soft yet malicious.
Song Fengmian suddenly turned his head to avoid Yan Dong’s fingertips, bowing towards the door with a tense jaw.
Yan Dong pinched his fingertips, picked up the teacup, and drank the remaining half cup of tea. He propped himself up on the table and said, “Qingqing, let’s go.”
Chang Qingqing’s head was already buried to the ground, and upon hearing this, he trembled and quickly got up to follow.
As they brushed past each other, Yan Dong stopped, slightly turning his head to look at Yan Song, “Brother, can you let go?”
Yan Song took the white fur cloak handed by the attendant and draped it over Yan Dong, “Don’t make trouble.”
“I’m not making trouble,” Yan Dong said. “If brother is willing, I will seek our parents’ consent.”
Yan Song slowly tied the cloak’s ribbon, smoothing the fabric on Yan Dong’s shoulder, maintaining eye contact the entire time. Yan Dong’s gaze was serious, unwavering, as if he was truly determined to make a fuss. He smiled instead of getting angry, saying, “Too bad, I don’t agree.”
It wasn’t that he wasn’t willing, but that he didn’t agree. Those three words were a command and suppression from above. The hierarchy was clear, and Yan Dong once again realized the “inequality” between them, just like how he couldn’t plant spies around his brother like his brother did.
Yan Dong was not convinced, “Marriage has always been the order of parents and the words of a matchmaker.”
He brought up Yan Qingyun and Cui Fulai, but he knew in his heart that Song Fengmian’s status was special. Nowadays, when it came to major family matters, Yan Song was the one in charge. If Yan Song didn’t agree, Song Fengmian couldn’t leave Xunfeng Courtyard.
Perhaps Yan Song thought the same, as he touched Yan Dong’s slightly puffed cheek when he withdrew his hand, letting out a short laugh, encouraging, “Then go ahead and try.”
Yan Dong inexplicably shivered, pushed Yan Song’s hand away, and turned to leave.
“Come home early tonight,” Yan Song reminded, but Yan Dong seemed not to hear, his steps quickening until he disappeared from sight.
Yan Song remained standing, his gaze hidden in the cold wind. Marriage, marriage… Heh, after a long while, he retracted his gaze and turned to enter the tea room.
Yan Song’s expression was as usual, but Chang Qingqing almost instantly sensed the master’s displeasure, unable to help but lower his gaze to the ground.
Someone jumped down from the roof, recounting the conversation in the tea room word for word, including the few sentences Song Fengmian used to deliberately provoke Yan Dong.
Chang Qingqing couldn’t help but glance at Song Fengmian, whose face grew paler, clearly not expecting there to be spies on the roof.
“Forgive me, my lord, I was just playing around with the little lord—”
Yan Song suddenly reached out and grabbed Song Fengmian’s neck, the force heavy through the cold finger guards.
Song Fengmian heard his own throat bone emit a dull “crack” sound, not doubting that the cold, iron-like hand could easily snap it with just a bit more force. He gradually couldn’t breathe, but didn’t dare to raise his hand to twist or touch Yan Song’s hand, only able to use his gaze to admit fault and plead.
“Is that so? I thought you were deliberately testing, but it seems I misunderstood.” Yan Song scrutinized Song Fengmian, his appearance indeed not bad, but how could he compare to him?
Yan Song sneered contemptuously, but his tone was gentle, as if negotiating, “Don’t ‘play around’ with him anymore, okay?”
Song Fengmian nodded with difficulty, and as soon as Yan Song let go, he fell to the ground, clutching his neck and gasping for air.
“The nonsense he spouts when he’s angry, don’t take it to heart,” Yan Song’s tone was as usual, as if the murderous intent just now was merely Song Fengmian’s illusion. “Stay put and don’t run around, after all, there are people looking for you everywhere now, it’s not safe.”
The implication was clear to Song Fengmian—if he dared to get close to Yan Dong, Yan Song would make sure he had no place to be buried.
These brothers were truly interesting. The younger one feared the older one having someone in his room, while the older one wanted to tightly control the younger one’s marriage. If they weren’t brothers, Song Fengmian would have thought they were jealous of each other.
Song Fengmian dared not show it on his face, hoarsely saying, “I understand.”
“Your mother and brother’s bodies have been dug up from the barren mountain and buried in a suitable place,” Yan Song said, watching Song Fengmian’s head snap up. “Do you want revenge?”
How could he not want it?
How could he not want it!
Song Fengmian tore off the calm facade he had in front of Yan Dong, suddenly kowtowing three times, pleading, “I beg for your mercy, my lord, I am willing to die a thousand deaths!”
“With that determination, things can be done,” Yan Song took out a plain note from his sleeve, and with a flick of his wrist, it fluttered down.
The note landed in front of him, and Song Fengmian propped up his stiff shoulders, staring intently at the three words on it.
Yan Song walked to the door, looking at the red plum blossoms by the courtyard wall, speaking softly, “I’m just missing one piece on my chessboard. As long as you stand in the right place, the day I finish the game will be the day you get your revenge.”
Song Fengmian said, “I am at your service.”
*
The red plum blossoms stood proudly, and Yan Dong sat by the window of the square pavilion, painting, while the Sixth Prince sat on a nearby embroidered stool, peeling chestnuts.
After finishing the painting, Yan Dong set down his brush, took the hot chestnut offered by the Sixth Prince, and stretched lazily.
Emperor Cheng An, holding a hand warmer, walked to the painting table and glanced at it, “The lines are smooth, the colors bright, but the strokes are too sharp—there’s a hint of hostility. Who’s upset our little spring?”
The emperor’s eyes were sharp, but Yan Dong couldn’t tell the truth and expose Song Fengmian. He slumped his shoulders and said, “Brother said if I fall out of the top five in this exam, I’ll have to study an extra hour after school next year. I think he’s a cold and heartless man!”
Emperor Cheng An chuckled, patting Yan Dong’s head, “You’ve always been at the top of your class. If you fall out of the top five this time, it’s probably because you’re restless and not focused on your studies. It’s only right for Xu Ming to be strict with you.”
Yan Dong dragged out his response, “Oh…”
“Alright, don’t sulk. Come have a bowl of golden jade soup to warm up,” Emperor Cheng An said.
Yan Dong and the Sixth Prince followed him back to the table, where the servants quickly served two bowls of golden jade soup. Made with yam and chestnuts in mutton broth, the soup was clear and fragrant, a nourishing dish for the winter.
“Smells so good,” Yan Dong and the Sixth Prince clinked their bowls together like children. Emperor Cheng An enjoyed seeing him smile, vibrant and bright.
“Your Majesty,” a servant entered to report, “the Second Prince has come to pay his respects.”
“That old second, he’s been coming quite often lately,” Emperor Cheng An laughed. “Oh well, since he’s here, we can’t let him go hungry. Bring another bowl.”
The servant withdrew.
Yan Dong sipped the soup in small mouthfuls, and soon the Second Prince entered, wearing a white fur robe, exuding an extraordinary aura. The princes inherited their parents’ good looks, and the Second Prince, like a gentle breeze and bright moon, resembled the emperor the most in appearance.
The Second Prince bowed to pay his respects, and Yan Dong and the Sixth Prince followed suit.
“No need for formalities,” the Second Prince nodded to the Sixth Prince, then held Yan Dong’s wrist, examining him, “You’re glowing, have you recovered well?”
Yan Dong replied, “Thank you for your concern, Your Highness. I’m fully recovered.”
As they spoke, they sat down one after the other.
The servant brought the golden jade soup, and the Second Prince held the bowl to warm his hands, saying, “It’s the third day of the month, your birthday is coming up, isn’t it?”
Yan Dong said, “If you have any gifts, feel free to send them over, I’ll gladly accept.”
The Second Prince laughed, “I’ve already prepared something for you, and I’ll deliver it on time.”
Emperor Cheng An also smiled, “After your birthday, you’ll be eighteen. Have you thought about where you’ll go after graduation next year?”
“No,” Yan Dong admitted honestly, “I actually don’t want to work.”
“Just want to eat, drink, and have fun, right?” Emperor Cheng An saw Yan Dong nodding honestly and couldn’t help but chuckle, “How strange, how did the Yan family produce such a little lazybones like you!”
Yan Dong didn’t argue, humming and leaning against the Sixth Prince, though he was older, his demeanor was more like a younger brother.
After a while, Yan Jian came with today’s medicine to tend to the illness. Yan Dong called out “Sister,” noticing out of the corner of his eye that the Second Prince was staring at her, his gaze brightening.
Not good! Yan Dong’s heart immediately sounded the alarm.
Later, as they walked out of the palace with the Second Prince, Yan Dong got straight to the point, “Are you interested in my sister?”
“Miss Yan is unparalleled in beauty and skilled in medicine, she’s admirable,” the Second Prince’s handsome face flushed slightly.
“My sister’s aspirations lie in the path of medicine, not in the backyard. If she marries a prince, she won’t be able to stay in the Imperial Hospital to treat patients and improve her medical skills,” Yan Dong glanced at the Second Prince, feeling he hadn’t completely given up, and couldn’t help but sigh:
This fool!
Considering the current political situation, Miss Yan’s status is special. Unless the emperor personally arranges a marriage, anyone who dares to meddle in her marriage is trying to win over the Yan family. Moreover, she’s an imperial physician attending to the emperor. Anyone who tries to get close to her might be accused of “spying on the emperor’s health.” So while this marriage might seem good, it’s actually very dangerous.
If he can’t see through this, how can he compete for the position of crown prince?
“Just listen to me!” Yan Dong said, “You already have a wife in your residence, so don’t covet my sister.”
“As a prince, Miss Yan should naturally become a princess,” the Second Prince saw Yan Dong frowning and looking accusatory, and couldn’t help but ask, “Why?”
Yan Dong knew these royal offspring regarded positions in their backyards as treasures, but his sister’s ambitions lay elsewhere, so she naturally didn’t care.
“What’s so great about being a princess? To my sister, it doesn’t compare to being a seventh-rank imperial physician,” Yan Dong said seriously. “None of you are allowed to be my brother-in-law.”
The Second Prince didn’t get angry with this kid, raising his hand to poke the dumpling pom-pom on his little topknot, saying, “Marriage has always been the order of parents and the words of a matchmaker. As a younger brother, your words don’t count.”
As a younger brother, his words don’t count.
Yan Dong thought again of what Yan Song had said in the study.
Yes, his sister’s marriage wasn’t for him to decide, and his brother’s love affairs naturally didn’t need to be reported to him.
Like clouds covering the sun, the handsome and pretty face suddenly dimmed, and Yan Dong turned to leave, his steps heavy.
“Hey?” The Second Prince was puzzled and saddened, “Do you really not want me to be your brother-in-law?”
Yan Dong didn’t look back, angrily, “Hmph!”