Autumn afternoons were the easiest time to grow drowsy. After embroidering for most of the day, Song Xian was yawning repeatedly.
The sunlight was pleasant, the doors and windows wide open, cool breezes sweeping in from all sides, refreshing her at once. She set down her embroidery frame and asked Wan Cui, who was arranging her threads nearby: “Is the small kitchen prepared with the dishes?”
“All ready.”
These past two days, Qin Yixian had often come by—sometimes dining with her in the evening, sometimes lingering in the afternoon, claiming she wanted to learn embroidery. Song Xian had taught her some basics, but she soon complained that it was too difficult and refused to continue.
Yesterday, before leaving, she had insisted she would come tonight for dinner, specifically requesting Song Xian’s jade‑green diced fish, pestering her until she agreed.
The time was nearly upon them. Song Xian rose and went to the small kitchen.
Jade‑green diced fish was a Yangzhou dish, light and refreshing. Before marriage, her stepmother often made it for her, and she had loved it dearly.
Later, she had learned to cook it herself, even preparing it once for Wei Ling. The food box had been sent to him, but whether he ever ate it, she did not know.
By now, she was skilled, and it took little time in the kitchen. When the servants announced Qin Yixian had arrived, she carried the dish out along with the other prepared plates.
Qin Yixian looked as though she had just come in. Seeing Song Xian, she hurried over. “Cousin‑in‑law, you’ve finished!”
“Yes, all done as you asked.”
“Wonderful!” Qin Yixian pulled her to sit down, then said, “Wan Cui, quickly fetch another set of bowls and chopsticks for Cousin.”
Song Xian was startled. “Your cousin is coming?”
“Yes. I just passed by the study and happened to meet him as he returned from outside. I mentioned it, and he said he’d come later.”
After speaking, Qin Yixian glanced around, then leaned close to Song Xian’s ear, whispering: “You don’t know yet, do you? Today, Cousin quarreled with Uncle again. In the end, Cousin slammed the door and stormed out, leaving Uncle furious.”
Her words were accompanied by gestures, as if to reenact the tense atmosphere of that moment.
“When did this happen?”
“Just a short while ago. Aunt and I were both there. When I saw Cousin afterward, I was frightened—thankfully, he didn’t vent his anger on me. I asked if he wanted to join us for dinner, and he agreed.”
Qin Yixian never quite reached the point, so Song Xian had to ask directly:
“Why did Second Master quarrel with his father?”
“Well…I don’t really understand. But Uncle was still dissatisfied that Cousin hadn’t gone to the battlefield like the eldest. Uncle said Cousin’s current work had offended the court’s ministers, leaving him in a difficult position with them. He even said Cousin clearly had a better path but insisted on leaving the Wei family to fight alone. In short, he blamed Cousin for everything—and finally declared Cousin unworthy of being a son of the Wei family.”
As she spoke, Qin Yixian grew sorrowful. “How could Uncle say such a thing! I wanted to defend Cousin, but Aunt pulled me back.”
“Your cousin won’t blame you,” Song Xian offered gently.
From her description, this quarrel seemed more serious than usual. Wei Haifeng’s words had been especially harsh. After all, they were father and son—why must things escalate so far?
“Cousin‑in‑law, later you must comfort him. If not, I fear he won’t even be able to eat.”
Before Song Xian could reply, Wei Ling appeared at the doorway. His mood was clearly sour—face stern, lips pressed down, his gaze devoid of emotion.
Song Xian rose, took the bowls and chopsticks Wan Cui had brought, set them neatly before him, and said to both, “Come, let’s eat.”
Wei Ling sat straight down at the table. Song Xian then took her place beside him.
Qin Yixian stole a glance at him, then signaled to Song Xian. Reluctantly, Song Xian spoke: “Second Master, try the dishes today—see if they suit your taste.”
“And you too, Yixian. Eat while it’s hot, or the flavor will fade.” Song Xian placed a serving into her cousin’s bowl.
“So delicious! Even better than Aunt’s cooking. Cousin‑in‑law, you’re not only beautiful and wise, but also skilled at embroidery and cooking. Truly, only Cousin is blessed enough to have you!” Qin Yixian chattered on, full of praise.
She often used flattery to lighten the mood, but today her compliments were directed at Song Xian, leaving her a little embarrassed.
Song Xian quickly placed more food in her bowl, half‑warning: “Eat—maybe it’ll block your mouth for once.”
Qin Yixian giggled, then turned to Wei Ling. “Cousin, you must try this. Cousin‑in‑law made jade‑green diced fish especially for me today.”
All three of them knew what had happened that morning, yet none mentioned it. Song Xian also looked toward him.
Wei Ling nodded, but his chopsticks reached for another dish. Song Xian realized he didn’t know which one was the jade‑green diced fish. She smiled faintly, and while Qin Yixian was busy eating, she placed some of the dish into his bowl. “Second Master, you haven’t tried this before, have you? Since Yixian wanted it today, I made it.”
Wei Ling’s hand paused. He turned to look at her, his expression unreadable. After a long moment, he turned back, picked up the fish, and chewed slowly.
“How is it? Isn’t it good?” Qin Yixian asked eagerly.
Wei Ling finished, then served himself another bite. Only afterward did he say, “Acceptable.”
“‘Acceptable’ means it’s good!” Qin Yixian laughed. “Too bad I’ll be returning home in a few days. Otherwise, I’d want to stay here every day. Cousin‑in‑law, remember to find me on Grandmother’s birthday.”
“All right.”
With that, Qin Yixian fell quiet. The table settled into calm, the three of them eating in silence.
After eating most of the meal, Qin Yixian winked at Song Xian. Afraid she didn’t understand, she even exaggeratedly gestured toward Wei Ling.
Song Xian laughed but ignored her.
With a sudden flourish, Qin Yixian stood up and loudly called to Wei Ling:
“Cousin, your wife is actually worried about you. If you’re upset or angry, why not talk to her about it?”
Wei Ling and Song Xian froze in place.
Meanwhile, the instigator had already darted off: “Then I won’t disturb Cousin and Cousin‑in‑law’s rest!”
The room fell strangely silent. Song Xian had no idea what he was thinking, but she herself felt deeply embarrassed.
What nonsense was Qin Yixian spouting? Worried about him? She wasn’t worried about him at all!
Taking a deep breath, Song Xian instructed Wan Cui to have the servants clear the table.
The clatter of dishes faintly covered the awkward atmosphere. Song Xian spoke: “Second Master, you should head back and settle down early.”
But Wei Ling clearly didn’t want to leave. He looked at her. “Since when did you become so close with Yixian?”
“Isn’t that what you wanted?”
Wei Ling thought about it—it did seem true. Then he asked: “What did she say to you?”
Song Xian hadn’t wanted to dignify that remark, but since he asked, she explained: “Yixian mentioned the matter at Yin’an Hall. She only said that because she was worried about you. You needn’t take it to heart.”
“Needn’t take it to heart…” Wei Ling repeated the phrase slowly. She had said only that, without asking what had happened, even trying to send him away. Wasn’t she the one not taking it to heart?
For some reason, Wei Ling felt unsettled. Regardless of whether she wanted to hear it, he spoke on his own: “Have I never told you that Father is determined I inherit his career?”
Song Xian had already risen to her feet, but hearing this unexpectedly, she turned back in shock—meeting his deep, searching gaze. Her steps faltered.
Forget it. If he wanted to speak, she might as well listen.