When she returned to the Xi Courtyard, she found her mother already busy in the kitchen.
Aunt Qing said, “Your mother hasn’t stepped into the kitchen for ages. Since you finally came home, she insists on cooking herself and won’t let anyone help.”
Watching her mother’s bustling figure, Song Xian smiled faintly. “Then I must come back often.”
It wasn’t that she didn’t want to return—rather, Madam You forbade her from visiting too frequently, saying her mother‑in‑law would disapprove. Each time she came back, she had to endure endless nagging.
Aunt Qing sighed at her words. “Second Miss should indeed come back often.”
Song Xian suddenly pulled Aunt Qing out of the kitchen. “Aunt Qing, don’t hide it from me. What’s wrong with my mother? How could a mere chill make her cough so badly, leave her so frail?”
In just that short while, her mother had already coughed twice while cooking. It didn’t look like a simple cold at all.
Aunt Qing hesitated, words on the tip of her tongue.
“Aunt Qing, you know my mother’s nature. She always thinks of me, never wants me to worry. But if you keep this from me, aren’t you worried yourselves? If you won’t tell me, I’ll go straight to Doctor Zhou.”
Song Xian’s tone was firm. Aunt Qing finally relented. “It isn’t anything serious. Since last month, your mother has been coughing. Doctor Zhou came several times but found nothing. She took medicine, yet there’s been no improvement.”
“How could no illness be found? Perhaps we should try another doctor.”
“We already did. They all say her body is weak, and they advise rest and regular medicine.” Seeing Song Xian’s worry, Aunt Qing added, “Second Miss, don’t think too much. Since all the doctors say so, it must not be serious.”
Still uneasy, Song Xian called for Wan Cui. “Wan Cui, fetch the banknotes from my room.”
“Second Miss, this—”
“Aunt Qing, don’t worry about the money. Whatever medicine is needed, buy it. Don’t skimp on food or care. Her health is most important.” Song Xian instructed earnestly, “Since Mother doesn’t want me to know, then I’ll pretend not to.”
She clasped Aunt Qing’s hand, eyes reddening. “But Aunt Qing, if anything happens to her, you mustn’t hide it from me. Send someone to the General’s Manor at once.”
Aunt Qing was moved. “Yes. If your mother knows you care so deeply, she will be very happy.”
Perhaps the doctors were right, perhaps her mother truly had no grave illness. Yet in that moment, panic seized Song Xian. A nameless fear coiled in her heart, as if she were falling into a bottomless pit, unable to see what lay ahead.
Her mother was her only support in this world. No matter what, she only wished Heaven would show her more mercy, let her live happily, at least free from the torment of illness.
The fragrance from the kitchen drifted out as the two walked back. Aunt Qing said, “Your mother was talking about you just yesterday. With winter approaching, she planned to make you some clothes—she’s already picked out the fabric. Don’t be fooled by how she asked so many questions just now, pretending she didn’t want you to come home. In truth, she was delighted.”
“Mhm, I know,” Song Xian replied. Of course, she knew.
“Ah Qing, come help me carry these out,” Madam You called, having spotted them. “Ah Xian, go sit down—we’re ready to eat.”
On the table were jade‑green diced fish, braised lion’s head meatballs, and Buddha’s hand ginger shoots—all her favorite Yangzhou dishes.
Throughout the meal, Madam You kept piling food into her daughter’s bowl until it formed a little hill. Song Xian laughed helplessly. “Mother, how could I possibly eat so much?”
“I rarely cook myself—whether you can finish it or not, you must eat.” She added another lion’s head. “Your grandmother’s lion’s heads were truly unmatched. I could eat five or six in one sitting. What’s this compared to that?”
By the end, Song Xian’s stomach was round and full.
Mother and daughter enjoyed the meal immensely. Madam You’s cooking was, of course, beyond reproach—though her embroidery skills could not compare to Song Xian’s.
Afterward, Madam You pulled her daughter onto the couch and had Aunt Qing bring out the sewing things.
Song Xian protested gently. “Mother, I already have clothes. You don’t need to make me more.”
“Your mother has nothing better to do. Am I not allowed to make clothes for my own daughter?” Madam You took up the needle and thread, then glanced at her daughter, feigning casualness. “Fine, if I don’t make clothes for you, then when will you give me a grandchild? Once I have a grandchild, I won’t worry about you—I’ll make clothes for the little one instead.”
Song Xian froze, unable to respond.
Her mother was different from others. Perhaps her father wanted a grandchild to strengthen ties between families, and Princess Duanrong wanted one for the sake of the Wei clan. But her mother’s wish for a grandchild was only for her—for her daughter to live better in the General’s household. Sadly, this time she would disappoint her mother.
Seeing her quietly smoothing the thread, Madam You understood she didn’t want to discuss it further, so she let the matter drop and asked instead, “What is Wei Ling doing these days?”
“There’s always so much work at the Court of Judicial Review; he’s often too busy to be seen.”
Madam You knew this well. “Being busy isn’t a problem. Just remember to care for him more. Between husband and wife, there must be mutual support—every lamp lit, every meal shared, is a token of affection.”
Song Xian had never spoken to her mother about her relationship with Wei Ling. In her eyes, they were simply an ordinary married couple, so at this moment, she could only nod obediently.
“Does Princess Duanrong treat you well?”
“Yes.”
“You’ve heard about your sister‑in‑law, haven’t you? Madam is planning to take a concubine for your elder brother. Madam Jiang has been married for two years without bearing a child, and your grandmother is already terribly anxious.” Madam You’s words carried hidden meaning, but fearing Song Xian might not understand, she asked directly: “Has Princess Duanrong said anything to you?”
“No.”
Madam You clearly didn’t believe her. She snatched away the tangled thread from her daughter’s hands. “What mother‑in‑law could tolerate a daughter‑in‑law who doesn’t bear children? Even if you won’t say it, I can guess. But in the end, life is lived between husband and wife. If Wei Ling doesn’t agree, then your mother‑in‑law can do nothing. Be honest with me—what is Wei Ling’s attitude?”
Wei Ling’s attitude? Song Xian vaguely remembered him saying not to pay attention to Princess Duanrong’s words, but he had never clearly stated his position, let alone made any promises.
As for Qin Yixian, she couldn’t tell whether Wei Ling’s care for her was merely brotherly protection or something else. But knowing his nature, it was unlikely he disliked her.
“I haven’t asked,” Song Xian replied dryly.
“When this marriage was arranged, I was reluctant. I feared you would suffer there. Everyone thinks marrying up is the greatest fortune, but only after living it does one know how humbling it can be.” Madam You sighed. “But three years have passed. If not for Wei Ling’s protection, with Princess Duanrong’s temperament, she would never have tolerated you.”
“So, live your days well. Children will come in time. Don’t let these matters estrange you from him, understand?”
Song Xian did not answer at once. She looked at her mother. “Mother, when you followed Father to Shengjing, were you happy?”
Madam You was taken aback. It was the first time anyone had asked her—coming to Shengjing, was she happy?
After a long pause, she finally said, “At that time, I was happy. I thought I had found my home, that the three of us would live in harmony, enjoying blessings for a lifetime.”
Only after arriving in Shengjing did she learn that he already had a complete family and that she was merely a concubine. But by then, she was carrying Song Xian in her belly, and with thousands of miles between Yangzhou and Shengjing, there was no way back.
“And now?”
Madam You reached out to touch her daughter’s face. “Now, of course, I am happy too. I have you, Xian. My only wish is that you live well in the future, free of worries.”
“Then…” Song Xian gathered her courage. “Then what if I cannot fulfill your wish?”
Madam You froze again, quickly asking, “What has happened?”
Song Xian immediately smiled. “I was only joking. Your daughter will make sure your wish comes true.”
“You child.” Madam You let out a breath, relieved. “You are not me, and Wei Ling is far better than your father. The General’s Manor and our household are both here in Shengjing. No matter how domineering Princess Duanrong may be, she wouldn’t dare bully you too much. Just live your days well, don’t let your thoughts run wild, understand?”
“I understand.” Song Xian slipped her arm around her mother’s. “Mother, do you ever want to return to Yangzhou?”
“Of course I do. I’ve even thought of speaking to your father, finding a time to go back for a visit.” Madam You’s eyes grew wistful. “It’s been nearly twenty years. I wonder what Father and Mother look like now, whether Yangzhou is still the same Yangzhou.”
Suddenly, she thought of something and asked Aunt Qing, “Ah Qing, hasn’t this year’s letter still not arrived?”
“Yes, it’s already a month late. Strange, isn’t it?”
“Indeed. Tomorrow, check at the post office.” Madam You grew worried, then took Song Xian’s hand again. “Our Ah Xian has never been to Yangzhou. I truly don’t know when mother and daughter will be able to make the trip.”
Song Xian laughed softly. “That’s not difficult. It’s only half a month’s journey each way. Going back once isn’t impossible.”
“You say it easily enough.” Madam You gave her a look.
Song Xian straightened, gazing at her seriously. “Mother, let me ask you—if you had the chance to leave Father, leave Shengjing, and return to Yangzhou, would you take it?”
Of course she would. How could she not? It was the wish she had always carried deep in her heart. But how could one live only for oneself? Her daughter was still here—how could she leave?
“Don’t dwell on such fanciful thoughts,” Madam You said softly. “Wherever Xian is, that’s where her mother will be.”
Song Xian kept her gaze fixed on her, catching every flicker in her eyes—from surprise, to joy, to sudden dimness—all revealing her true feelings.
If she were to leave the General’s Manor, her mother would suffer. Her father and Tan Huizhi would be the first to accuse her of failing in her duty as a daughter.
She had never thought of leaving Shengjing before. But now, it seemed that taking her mother back to Yangzhou was not impossible. Her mother was unhappy here and now plagued by illness. To remain would only be torment.
Song Xian silently made her decision. If that were the case, then she would leave with her mother. She wanted to see Yangzhou—the place where her mother had grown up, the place she still longed for.