Song Xian lifted her head in confusion. What accusation was being made against her?
She slowly recalled—ah, yes, a few days ago Wei Yujun had come to her. The implication in her words was that she wanted her to pass a message to her elder brother, Song Yu. She remembered that she hadn’t agreed right away, only asked what message she wanted delivered.
Wei Yujun grew anxious, stamped her feet, exchanged a few unpleasant words, and stormed off in anger.
So where was the misunderstanding? She had only just seen Wei Ling; how could she have had time to lodge a complaint?
Song Xian looked toward Wei Ling, thinking he might explain on her behalf. But he only fixed his gaze on Wei Yujun and said in a deep voice, “You, a young lady of a noble household, consorting with ruffians and scoundrels—what is that supposed to mean? Fighting? Seizing people? If word spreads, outsiders will say the Grand General Zhen has truly taught his daughter well.”
His words were harsh. Princess Duanrong, who had remained silent until now, pulled a stern face and rebuked him: “Yuchuan!”
“Mother, Yujun has already passed the age of the hairpin ceremony. You decide how to handle it—let’s see how long you can shield them.” Wei Ling rose, bowed, and said, “Your son has other matters to attend to.” Without another glance, he left.
Song Xian stared at his departing back, bewildered by the sudden turn of events. Hadn’t they been chatting happily just before entering? Why had it all changed so abruptly?
Wei Ling rarely spoke to her about his relationship with his parents, but from subtle interactions, she could tell his bond with his father was poor. Whenever they met, there was friction. She didn’t know the reason, so she refrained from comment. Now it seemed this incident was inseparable from his father.
As for Wei Yujun’s matter, Song Xian had already pieced together most of it.
Wei Yujun was spoiled and willful, often relying on her father, the Grand General Zhen, and her mother, Princess Duanrong, to act recklessly. Fighting and seizing people were things ordinary young women would never do—but with Wei Yujun, it was another story.
Song Yu served in the Ministry of War and currently commanded the Sixteen Guards of the capital, responsible for the peace of Shengjing. Wei Yujun’s request of him was self‑explanatory.
The atmosphere in Yin’an Hall grew cold. Regaining her breath, Wei Yujun seemed to find an outlet for her anger. She turned to Song Xian: “Second Sister‑in‑law, I only asked you for a favor. If you didn’t want to help, fine—but why would you frame me? If not for you, how would Second Brother have found out?”
A basin of dirty water was thus dumped on Song Xian. In the past, she would never have argued back in such a situation. But now she no longer wished to shoulder the blame. Calmly, she replied: “Third Sister, I only just saw your Second Brother. How could I have had time to tell him anything? Framing you is absolutely impossible. Besides, that day you never told me what had actually happened—so how could I possibly have helped you?”
“You’re lying—Second Brother clearly returned last night!” Wei Yujun burst out in fury. Then, glancing at Song Xian, she gave a mocking laugh: “Of course, even if Second Brother did come back, he wouldn’t have gone to your room.”
At those words, the faces in the hall shifted in different shades.
Wei Yujun arched her brows triumphantly, as though she had scored another victory over Song Xian.
But Song Xian, pride flickering in her heart, looked around at them all and—for the first time—told a lie: “No wonder there was such rustling noise last night. So it was Second Brother who returned, and he didn’t even wake me.”
“You—”
“Enough.” Princess Duanrong cut off Wei Yujun’s retort with a glance at Song Xian. “Yujun, Yuchuan was right. If you don’t rein yourself in, no one will be able to protect you.” Her mind was still preoccupied with earlier matters, unwilling to waste attention on the siblings’ squabble.
Just now, Wei Ling hadn’t been scolding his sister at all—he had been alluding to their father, warning her in a roundabout way. Princess Duanrong sighed silently. It was true that after laying down his arms, Wei Haifeng had grown reckless, leaving her to clean up after him.
Wei Yujun’s temper was entirely inherited from his father. Wei Shu resembled her more. As for Yuchuan, that child had always been clear-sighted, clever, and sharp, though stubborn at heart. His brows and eyes carried a likeness to her mother, Princess Huihua, and his bearing even surpassed hers.
This son was destined for great things. Thinking of this, Princess Duanrong’s gaze drifted toward her daughter-in-law.
Song Xian’s hair was styled in the *Hanyan Furong* bun. Her face, bare of powder, was smooth as polished jade, her brows like drifting smoke, her eyes like autumn waters. Even Princess Duanrong had to admit—few in Shengjing could rival Song Xian’s beauty.
But beauty—what use was it?
She sighed inwardly. She had opposed Yuchuan’s marriage from the start. With his birth, character, and talent, why should he settle for a mere concubine-born daughter of a marquis’s household?
It was only because the dying matriarch insisted that Marquis Suqing owed a debt to the General’s estate, and that this marriage must be sealed, that she reluctantly agreed.
Song Xian’s mother, it was said, was the daughter of a magistrate in Yangzhou. With her looks, she ensnared Marquis Suqing during his inspection tour, and after conceiving, she followed him back to Shengjing.
If not for the sudden death of the marquis’s legitimate daughter, how could a low-born concubine’s child have ever secured such a match?
By contrast, her elder daughter-in-law was dignified and composed, raised in a noble household, managing affairs with order and grace. Whenever she appeared in public, outsiders praised her endlessly. The difference between the two was like heaven and earth.
Just then, Wei Yujun shouted loudly: “Mother!”
Princess Duanrong withdrew her gaze and waved her hand. “Go on. I have matters to discuss with your sisters-in-law.”
Pouting, Wei Yujun left. Princess Duanrong lifted her teacup and took a sip, then asked casually, “Ah Ruo, I recall there’s a thousand-year ginseng bestowed by the Princess Royal in the storeroom, isn’t there?”
Chen Ruo immediately replied, “Yes, Mother. I’ve kept it safe.”
“Bring it out and send it to Ah Xian.”
Song Xian was startled—since when had Mother treated her so kindly? Suppressing her doubts, she replied, “Thank you, Mother.”
“Ah Xian, it’s been three years since you married into the family, hasn’t it?”
“Yes, Mother, three years.”
Princess Duanrong nodded. “Yuchuan is twenty-three this year, no longer young. You must take better care of your health—falling ill every few days won’t do.”
Song Xian immediately understood. The gift of ginseng was nothing more than a pretext. The real issue was children. No doubt she would be pressed again about heirs. But how could that be in her control? It was Wei Ling who refused—could she bear a child on her own?
On second thought, perhaps it was fortunate. Children meant bonds, ties that could never be broken. With a child, she would never be free to leave. Her own mother was the best example. If not for her, Mother would never have been forced to follow to Shengjing, to become another man’s concubine. Though she never spoke of the past, Song Xian had seen the loneliness in her eyes. As a daughter, how could she not understand?
No—children were something she must never have. But she could not say that aloud. So she answered dutifully, “Yes, Mother, I understand.”
Unexpectedly, Princess Duanrong turned to Chen Ruo. “Ah Ruo, in a few days, my niece will be staying here for a time. Prepare a courtyard for her. See that her food, clothing, and lodging are properly arranged.”
Her niece—Princess Huihua’s own granddaughter—was a guest of far higher rank than Wei Yujun.
Chen Ruo quickly replied, “Yes. Mother, what do you think of Biluo Courtyard behind the mountain? The surroundings are quiet and comfortable, and it’s not far from here.”
But Princess Duanrong disagreed. “Isn’t the Yuqing Lodge beside Liuying Pavilion still empty? Let her stay there.”
Chen Ruo hesitated. “The Yuqing Lodge is rather small. I fear Miss Yixian may find it inconvenient. Perhaps it would be better—”
“Yuqing Lodge will do.” Princess Duanrong turned to Song Xian. “This is Yixian’s first time visiting our household. Ah Xian, you should look after her as well.”
“Yes.”
The two sisters-in-law left Yin’an Hall together. Chen Ruo, still puzzled, asked, “Sister, what do you think Mother means by this…”
Song Xian gathered her sleeves, not answering directly, but instead spoke with some concern: “Elder Sister-in-law, I cannot guess what Mother intends, nor would it be wise to overthink it. But I’ve heard that Miss Yixian has never gotten along with Third Sister. When the time comes, we mustn’t let them quarrel and draw Mother’s displeasure.”
Chen Ruo, suddenly tense as if facing an enemy, forgot her earlier doubts and hurried away.
Song Xian turned back to glance at the splendid Yin’an Hall, her brows lowered. Some matters were no longer hers to decide.
Princess Duanrong had inexplicably arranged for Miss Yixian to stay here. On the surface, it looked like an aunt and niece catching up. Yet with finer courtyards available, why insist on squeezing her into the small lodge beside Liuying Pavilion? A little thought made the meaning clear.
If the Princess’s true purpose was what she suspected, then for Song Xian it might even be a blessing. She had been troubled over how to leave—who would have thought the opportunity would arrive so swiftly?
Still, joy was tinged with disappointment. Clearly, Princess Duanrong had long harbored this intention. She had never truly wanted Song Xian as her daughter-in-law. Had she not realized this, she would now be choking on bitterness, forced to swallow it down.
Song Xian turned away, her heart calm. If that were truly the case, then she would fulfill her mother-in-law’s wish.
Meanwhile, Wei Ling left the General’s estate and entered the palace, where Eunuch Wei was already waiting at the inner gates.
“His Majesty has spoken of you many times—at last, Envoy Wei has returned,” the eunuch said obsequiously, head bowed.
Wei Ling gave a low reply and walked forward. Watching his tall, straight figure, Eunuch Wei could not help but sigh. This young man was destined for greatness.
Who was Wei Ling? Outwardly, just a fledgling youth, known only as the Princess’s grandson—without office, without the achievements of father or brothers. Yet he alone could freely enter the palace and step into the Qinzheng Hall. Even the Crown Prince required an imperial decree to enter that hall. Such favor spoke volumes.
Though Eunuch Wei did not know what tasks Wei Ling performed for the Emperor, decades of service had taught him one thing: His Majesty trusted this young man deeply. How could he not pay attention?
He hurried to catch up, whispering: “Envoy Wei, perhaps you have not heard—His Majesty was in a terrible rage this morning.”
Wei Ling walked on as if he hadn’t heard.
Embarrassed, the eunuch rubbed his nose and continued: “Yesterday the Crown Prince drank too much, and in broad daylight committed debauchery—he violated the wife of a respected minister. Today, that man brought his grievance before the throne. His Majesty was furious, nearly beside himself. It touches the honor of the royal house. The matter has not yet spread, but when you see His Majesty, take care.” His words dripped with flattery.
Wei Ling did not dismiss him, only replied evenly: “Thank you, Eunuch Wei.”
The eunuch said no more, leading him silently to Qinzheng Hall.
His Majesty never liked attendants being present when speaking with Wei Ling. Eunuch Wei carefully closed the great doors and waited outside.
Within the grand hall, Wei Ling bowed before the dragon throne. “Your servant Wei Ling greets Your Majesty.”
The Emperor, though in his fifties and still strong, wore a face clouded with anger, clearly not yet calmed. He looked down at the young man, resting his hand on the throne’s armrest, rubbing his brow. “You’ve returned? How did the matter go?”
“All was accomplished smoothly.”
The Emperor said no more. What he needed to know, he already knew. Today, he had summoned Wei Ling for another reason entirely.
“Yuchuan, have you thought about the future?”
Qinzheng Hall was thick with the scent of dragon incense. Wei Ling frowned slightly, yet still answered respectfully: “Never.”
The Emperor sighed, then asked: “Have you heard of today’s matter?”
“Yes.”
Had Eunuch Wei heard this reply, he might have cursed Wei Ling for being heartless—after all, the “secret” he had just whispered was now baldly admitted.
But the Emperor showed no anger. Instead, he laughed to himself: “Those damned lackeys!”
Wei Ling said nothing. The Emperor’s tone grew heavy: “Yuchuan, you must step into the open now. The Crown Prince has been too restless of late. I need someone to keep him in check.”
The man below remained expressionless.
The Emperor looked down at him again. “What is it—unwilling?”
Since beginning service under him five years ago, Wei Ling had always obeyed without question. Silence now was itself a sign of discontent.
“Start as Assistant Minister of the Court of Judicial Review. Take it step by step.” The Emperor’s voice softened, almost coaxing. “Yuchuan, you cannot always do things in the shadows. You should understand this even better than I.”
Assistant Minister of the Court of Judicial Review—a fourth-rank post. For an outsider like Wei Ling, who seemed to possess nothing, it was already a rare honor.