Two days after returning to the manor, Song Xian went to the Yin’an Hall. She no longer needed to pay her respects daily, and without reason, she seldom came here. The last time she had seen Princess Duanrong was when Qin Yixian was present. Thus, standing at the doorway now, she felt a little restrained.
Seeking a divorce would not be difficult. In such a grand household, they would never issue a formal repudiation of a wife. But if both sides agreed to a separation, that was different. As long as Princess Duanrong gave her consent, neither Wei Ling nor the General would object.
The hardest part was what would happen afterward. A married daughter was like water poured out—returning home had already shown her clearly that Marquis Suqing’s estate would not take her back. As long as her mother was willing to leave with her, nothing else mattered. And her mother would never refuse.
The more Song Xian thought about it, the lighter she felt, as if the days in Yangzhou were already within reach. With that thought, her nervousness vanished. She stepped calmly into Yin’an Hall.
Previously, when Qin Yixian had come, Princess Duanrong had seemed intent on pairing her with Wei Ling. Song Xian had thought to go along, doing a favor for both herself and the Princess.
Qin Yixian was a good‑natured girl. To say she had no feelings for Wei Ling would not be entirely true, though, as a child raised by the Princess Royal, she hid those emotions well. She found excuses to visit Liuying Pavilion daily; when she failed to see Wei Ling, her small disappointment was plain to Song Xian’s eyes. Even the peonies placed in her room revealed her careful thoughts.
But after a few days together, Song Xian no longer wished to be the knife that cut between them. Qin Yixian treated her sincerely, and she would not use her as a pawn. Their fate did not need her interference. Now, she could only look for her own chance.
Inside Yin’an Hall, Wei Yujun was present, speaking with Princess Duanrong, her young face full of displeasure. When she spotted Song Xian at the doorway, her anger instantly shifted to her, her eyes glaring as if to pierce through her.
“Second Sister‑in‑law, why have you come?”
Princess Duanrong seemed to be angry. She replied, “I was the one who asked her to come.”
Wei Yujun stamped her foot. “How come even Mother is taking her side!”
Song Xian: *???*
“If you don’t want to stay here, then go back to your room,” Princess Duanrong scolded again.
And Wei Yujun actually obeyed, leaving quietly. Though she still shot Song Xian a glare on her way out, compared to the Wei Yujun of before, this was a complete change.
Once she was gone, Song Xian covered her mouth with a handkerchief and gave a soft cough. Both Princess Duanrong and Chen Ruo looked at her.
Chen Ruo asked, “Ah Xian, are you feeling unwell?”
Today, Song Xian had only let Wan Cui apply a little powder, nothing else. Her complexion did look rather pale.
“It’s nothing, just an old ailment,” Song Xian answered, her voice gentle but fragile.
Princess Duanrong withdrew her gaze and no longer looked at her. Chen Ruo, however, seemed worried. “Ah Xian, here’s the matter. My mother is gravely ill, so I must return home for a few days. I’ve discussed it with her, and for now I’ll entrust the household affairs to you.”
Seeing her surprise, Chen Ruo added, “Don’t worry. I’ve already arranged everything in the manor. The only thing is, when you go to the Princess Royal’s residence the day after tomorrow, you must be careful. I’ll explain the details to you later.”
Song Xian wasn’t worried about being unable to manage, but this was truly the first time she had encountered such a situation. Even when her sister‑in‑law returned to her family before, she had never been given authority over household affairs. Why was Princess Duanrong thinking of her now? Unable to figure it out, she could only agree.
“Ah Xian, I have only one rule: anything concerning the Princess Royal’s residence must not go wrong.” Princess Duanrong spoke coldly from her seat, her tone stern.
“Yes.”
Chen Ruo rose. “Then, Mother, I’ll take Ah Xian with me.”
“Go on.”
The two returned to Chen Ruo’s courtyard. Little Xiuli was playing, and when he saw them, he immediately ran over on his short legs. “Mother!” Then he turned to Song Xian and called, “Auntie!”
Song Xian was very fond of Xiuli. She crouched down, stroked his head, and asked, “Xiuli, what are you playing with?”
Xiuli pulled out a cricket made of bamboo strips from behind his back and handed it to her. “This—Mother made it for me.”
“It’s beautiful.” Song Xian took it, studied it for a while, then pulled out a cloth tiger from her sleeve. “Look, Auntie has something for Xiuli too.”
The cloth tiger was small but finely embroidered, lifelike. Xiuli instantly loved it, clutching it tightly. “Thank you, Auntie!”
“All right, go play now. Mother has something to discuss with Auntie.”
Obediently, Xiuli hopped away, and Song Xian watched him skip along, her gaze following, a smile lingering at her lips.
“Don’t be fooled by how well‑behaved Xiuli looks now. In truth, he’s quite a handful—he doesn’t even like to sleep at night. Once you have children of your own, Ah Xian, you’ll know how hard it is.”
Chen Ruo realized her words were ill‑chosen. Ever since Xiuli was born, Song Xian had often come to visit, always bringing little handmade gifts, often making him laugh with delight. She knew well what Song Xian’s regret was.
After a while, Song Xian, still crouching, murmured softly: “There won’t be any.”
“What?” Chen Ruo was momentarily stunned.
Song Xian stood up, smiling faintly. “Sister‑in‑law, I truly envy you. Though Elder Brother is far away in the north, you always have Xiuli by your side. He’s sensible and obedient—who wouldn’t love him?”
Chen Ruo was still turning over that phrase *‘There won’t be any’*, and asked, “How could that be? Didn’t the doctor say that with some care and treatment, you could conceive?”
“Doctors will always speak optimistically. But don’t I know my own body?” Song Xian paused, her tone heavy with sorrow. “I fear I’ll only disappoint Mother and Second Brother.”
Chen Ruo sighed and said no more.
Song Xian spent most of the day at Chen Ruo’s quarters. She didn’t need to worry about household affairs, except that on the Princess Royal’s birthday, she must oversee everything carefully. First, she had to check the gifts prepared by the General’s Manor to ensure nothing was missing. Then, at the Princess’s residence, she would help receive guests. Chen Ruo had already drawn up the guest list for her.
Song Xian grew more cautious, personally inspecting the storeroom and memorizing the guest roster.
The next morning, Chen Zhi’an brought her news: a shop for resale had been found by the moat, fronting Zhengyang Street and backing onto a riverside lane. The area had heavy foot traffic, and most importantly, the owner was selling urgently at a very low price.
Song Xian was deeply tempted—such a shop was rare indeed. But then she hesitated. If she returned to Yangzhou, there was no need to acquire property in Shengjing. She would instead have to sell off the other shops, raising more travel funds.
Chen Zhi’an pressed her urgently, so after arranging matters at the manor, Song Xian went out.
As soon as Chen Zhi’an saw her, she couldn’t contain her impatience. “Why did you come so late? I told you, the shopkeeper is an acquaintance of mine—he only agreed to hold it for one more day. Otherwise, it would have been sold already.”
Song Xian looked around. It was a two‑story building, open north to south, elegantly decorated, fairly new, and ready for use. If she took it over, she could save a considerable sum on renovations.
This shop had originally sold rouge; inside the counter still lay scattered lip colors and indigo powders. Even in that short while, one or two customers came in, only to be turned away by the shopkeeper.
The shopkeeper came over, urging anxiously: “Miss Chen, I’ve already promised behind my master’s back to hold it for you one more day. Could you decide today?”
“Decide, decide—we’ll definitely decide.” Chen Zhi’an pulled Song Xian aside. “Xian Xian, what are you still hesitating for? If you don’t want this shop, I’ll take it myself!”
“What’s the rush? The more impatient you look, the higher the price they’ll ask.” Song Xian spoke calmly. “What’s the asking price?”
“Two hundred taels.”
Song Xian gasped. “Two hundred taels?”
“Yes—and that’s only because I’ve been buying rouge from them for years. I bargained it down. Two hundred taels, and you could earn it back in ten days or half a month.”
“You think making money is as easy as moving your lips?” Song Xian laughed. “Two hundred taels is too much—not worth it.”
She only had a little over a hundred taels of ready silver. She couldn’t raise that much in such a short time.
Song Xian glanced back at the shop. It was a pity, but she couldn’t make a rash decision. She didn’t need it now anyway.
Chen Zhi’an looked regretful. Song Xian said, “Zhi’an, thank you for all your effort, but let’s put the matter of finding a shop aside for now. There’s no hurry.”
“Fine then. But what about that man? My wet nurse’s younger brother came from the countryside two days ago—I think he’s decent.”
“Mhm, let’s meet him later. If he’s suitable, I’ll speak to Sister‑in‑law.” She still needed people, whether she stayed in Shengjing or returned to Yangzhou. But it couldn’t be just anyone—she had to meet them herself.
After finishing their talk, Song Xian turned to explain to the shopkeeper, and afterward had Wan Cui give him some broken silver as consolation.
As they left, Chen Zhi’an kept looking back, as though missing this shop meant there would be no other.
“To make up for it, I’ll treat you today. Whatever you want to eat, we’ll eat.”
Chen Zhi’an instantly brightened. “You mean it!”
“I mean it. If you don’t eat your fill, it’ll be my fault.”
The two laughed together. Song Xian’s gaze swept across the street, and for a moment, she felt as though someone was watching them. But when she looked closely, no figure was to be found. She thought to herself that all her late‑night embroidery must have blurred her eyes.
Across the street, in a teahouse, someone was indeed seated. Xiao Hengyi had come only to meet with Song Yu, commander of the Imperial Guard. As Song Yu had not yet arrived, he leaned by the window, drinking tea alone.
The street bustled with passersby, and then that familiar figure appeared in his sight. He was instantly dazed. He hadn’t expected to see her again—nor had he expected that he would carry the image of a married woman in his heart, recognizing her at a glance.
She walked arm in arm with another woman, looking very close, her face lit with laughter—so different from the solemn expression she had worn the day she faced him.
When the two left his view, Xiao Hengyi looked toward the shop they had come out of. It was vacant, its signboard removed, clearly no longer in business.
If the shop was no longer operating, why had she gone inside? Could it be her family’s property?
After some thought, Xiao Hengyi summoned his attendant. “Go find out who owns that shop.”
Song Yu soon arrived, finding Xiao Hengyi still staring out the window. Curious, he leaned out to look, but saw nothing. “Young Master Xiao, what are you looking at?”
Xiao Hengyi came back to himself. “Nothing. Brother Song, what matter did you call me out for?”
“Is your health better now?”
“It’s no longer serious.”
After a brief exchange of courtesies, Song Yu got to the point. “To be frank, I need your help. The spy we captured last time bit his tongue and died in prison. We followed the leads from his interrogation, but the more we investigated, the more wrong it seemed. Now we’ve realized all the clues he gave were false!”
“That spy was truly vicious—leading us in circles until we trapped ourselves!” Song Yu’s emotions flared. “Fortunately, Yuchuan reminded us, or we might never have uncovered the truth.”
Since Wei Ling’s visit to Marquis Suqing’s estate, the two had been in closer contact. Song Yu often had business at the Court of Judicial Review, and just yesterday, he had mentioned this matter in passing. Wei Ling had immediately pointed out the key issue, making him suddenly see clearly.
“That time in Yongxing Lane, when we fought, neither we nor Shuntian Prefecture gained much from the spy. Luckily, Young Master Xiao stepped in to help. I must apologize—we rushed in so quickly that day, we didn’t even notice you were injured.”
Song Yu bowed in apology. Xiao Hengyi hadn’t minded. “Brother Song needn’t dwell on it. Capturing the spy was what mattered.”
“Yes, yes.” Song Yu nodded repeatedly, then continued. “The spy looked like a man of the Central Plains, but his martial arts were strange. So I wanted to ask if you could recall the fight, to see if you can tell where he learned his skills.”
Xiao Hengyi had studied martial arts under a tutor hired by his family. Though he had not traveled widely, he knew something of the sects across the land. Thinking back, the spy’s techniques had indeed been odd, not of orthodox origin.
“I can remember the moves. But even if I know the techniques, I can’t say which sect they belong to.”
Song Yu let out a breath of relief. “That’s simple—Yuchuan said he could give it a try.”
Yuchuan? Brother Song’s words today were full of this name. How was it that Xiao Hengyi had never heard of such a figure in Shengjing?
“May I ask, Brother Song—who is this Yuchuan?”
“Oh! Young Master Xiao doesn’t know Yuchuan? Yuchuan is the courtesy name of Wei Ling from the General’s Manor. He currently serves at the Court of Judicial Review.”
At that, Xiao Hengyi immediately recalled. Who in Shengjing didn’t know the Wei family’s young master? Though he had rarely heard anyone mention this courtesy name.
Wei Ling was three or four years older than him, about the same age as his elder brother. Xiao Hengyi had only ever heard of him from elders and others’ mouths, never met him himself.
It was said that Wei Ling’s learning had once been praised personally by the Emperor. At that time, in the Jinshe Study and the academies, a phrase was widely circulated: *“A talent for the ages—the Wei family’s Second Son.”*
Back then, Xiao Hengyi had been young and proud, eager to meet this legendary figure. But later, for reasons unknown, the Wei young master seemed to vanish from sight. Though he still lived in Shengjing, there was no news of him at all. And so Xiao Hengyi lost the chance to test himself against him.
Now, Xiao Hengyi felt a surge of excitement. His usual composure slipped a little. “He will come?”
“Yes. Yuchuan said once he finishes his current duties, he’ll come over. By the look of the time, it should be soon.”