Their journey was to return to the Prime Minister’s Residence.
During yesterday’s Zaochao (Morning Court), Song Lin had asked Nangong Yi to relay a message to his younger sister, saying there were family matters to discuss and asking if she could return home tomorrow if she had time.
As it happened, today was a day without court sessions, so Nangong Yi temporarily set aside his affairs to accompany Song Yao back to her maiden home.
Song Yao raised an eyebrow, her captivating fox-like eyes shimmering with amusement: “Has Your Highness changed your mind again?”
Nangong Yi didn’t respond, but his stern face leaning against the fragrant shoulder of the beauty said it all. However, he didn’t press further, only reminding her:
“Return early.”
Suppressing a laugh, Song Yao agreed: “Alright, this humble servant will return before noon tomorrow.”
The Eastern Palace and the Prime Minister’s Residence were merely separated by one street. She had deliberately taken a longer route to bring some pastries her elder sister liked and check on the first day of business at the new shop—otherwise, she would have arrived much earlier.
With such a short distance, the Crown Prince’s words would make anyone think she was embarking on a long journey.
Soon, the carriage arrived at the Prime Minister’s Residence.
The entire family had been waiting for a long time. Led by Song Father and Song Mother, they bowed to the couple. Amid the neat greetings, Song Yao noticed a new face she had never seen before.
Standing behind her eccentric father was a woman who appeared as delicate as a willow, around the same age as her neurotic mother.
Could this be… a new concubine?
For the moment, no one could satisfy Song Yao’s curiosity, as the woman did not appear at the dining table, nor was she mentioned.
Though it wasn’t yet lunchtime, it was only proper not to let their daughter and son-in-law go hungry upon their return, so the Prime Minister’s Residence had lunch served early.
The dishes were lavish, and the etiquette impeccable.
The meal proceeded pleasantly enough, but towards the end, Song Father uttered an ill-timed remark—not anything particularly offensive, just lecturing his children.
Not Song Yao, but Song Wan, Song Lin, and Song Ye.
“Look at your younger sister—she married at the appropriate age, and how fine that is. Now look at you all—each of you acting frivolous all day long, what kind of example is that?”
“Especially you, Wan’er! How old are you already? When your mother was your age, she already had all of you.
What’s the use of spending your days practicing medicine and seeing patients? Does the household short you on food or clothing? Even if a woman pursues an official career and becomes an official, she must still marry in the end. Only then can she have a home and reliance—do you understand?”
Song Father stroked his beard, speaking with earnest concern, adopting the demeanor of a caring father acting in his children’s best interests, while not forgetting Nangong Yi’s presence.
“Your Highness, wouldn’t you agree?”
The entire table turned their eyes to Nangong Yi, including Song Yao.
Nangong Yi set down his wine cup, his expression indifferent. Officially, as the Crown Prince, he held little regard for Song Father, the Prime Minister, in every aspect. Personally, for his wife’s sake, he always spared Song Father some dignity during their meetings to prevent her family from bearing grudges.
But this time…
His peripheral glance caught his wife beside him, noticing the little fox narrowing her cunning eyes, observing him with an inscrutable gaze. He understood.
Parting his lips, he slowly uttered a few words: “I dare not agree.”
Song Father: …
Having his face contradicted by his son-in-law the Crown Prince, Song Father dared not show anger nor speak out, only offering an awkward, embarrassed laugh.
The others averted their eyes, lowered their heads to eat, or drank to conceal their expressions—their struggle not to laugh aloud was almost comical.
True to her over twenty years of acting experience, Song Yao never broke character in formal settings, maintaining her dignified posture.
Not only that, she even feigned mild reproach, clearing her throat softly to ease the awkwardness, and placed a serving of food into her husband’s bowl.
“Your Highness, have some vegetables.” What she placed in his bowl was no mere vegetable, but a large, exceptionally delicious-looking piece of Eight Treasure Duck.
Though framed as a complaint, it was truly a reward.
“Thank you, Furen.” Nangong Yi curved his lips, graciously picking up his chopsticks to eat with deliberate slowness.
Song Wan, the actual subject of discussion, now spoke. Though this genuinely gentle beauty matched her appearance in temperament, she held firm convictions in her actions.
“Father, though I’m at an age without a husband or children, I have many female apprentices learning medicine under me.”
“Moreover,” she continued, “I see no issue worth discussing about women officials marrying and bearing children. These matters don’t conflict – our Da Yuan has no laws forbidding female officials from marriage.As for reliance and final destination…” Being a physician, Song Wan had her own perspective on these concepts, particularly the latter.
“You and Mother are my reliance, A’Lin and A’Ye and Yao Yao are also my reliance, and I am my own reliance too.”And as for the final destination…”She glanced at the Crown Prince beside her younger sister, hesitating before saying, ‘The final resting place of all things under heaven ultimately returns to a handful of yellow earth.'””
Her words flowed gently from start to finish, even including the pleasing sentiment that “you and Mother are my reliance.”
This left Song Father’s expression particularly vivid – torn between anger and restraint. He couldn’t even properly vent his frustration, for what could he possibly say when even the Crown Prince remained silent?
Song Yao: “Elder Sister speaks well.”
For the sister who had raised her with unwavering affection, Song Yao would always be the first to unconditionally stand by Song Wan’s side.
Just as Song Lin and Song Ye prepared to voice their support, Nangong Yi preempted them.
Nangong Yi: “My wife speaks rightly.”
The Crown Prince not only responded quickly but skillfully maintained propriety – allowing Song Yao to speak first before adding his agreement.
This demonstrated his support for his wife while preventing gossip that might tarnish her sister’s reputation.
Song Lin and Song Ye promptly added their endorsements – one an elegant official whose logical arguments carried conviction, the other a dashing gentleman roaming common streets and martial circles who could argue convincingly even without reason, let alone when reason was on his side.
Song Father: “…”
He had witnessed countless scenes of these four children supporting one another, but today, Song Father felt something was missing.
Song Yao similarly sensed an absence and quickly identified it.
In the past, whenever their eccentric father chastised the four siblings, their love-struck mother would invariably side with him regardless of right or wrong.
Afterwards, she would reprimand them even more harshly, as if such blind support might earn her husband’s affection at their children’s expense.
But this time, it was different.
Song Yao lowered her eyelids, placing a crisp, refreshing bite of bitter bamboo shoot in her mouth. Her downcast eyes brimmed with mockery and cool detachment.
It seemed the intelligence Qian Mian had brought back was accurate – that childhood sweetheart turned bookstore owner indeed had skillful methods, successfully diverting her eccentric mother’s attention away from her eccentric father.
After the noon meal, Nangong Yi departed.
The entire family saw him off through the courtyard. The midday sun beat down with scorching intensity, and Nangong Yi requested a oil-paper umbrella.
At first, everyone assumed the Crown Prince sought shelter from the sun. But all the way to the carriage waiting at the estate gate, the umbrella in Nangong Yi’s hand remained steadfastly positioned over Song Yao’s head.
“This humble prince will come for you tomorrow.”
His gaze passed over Song Yao and rested on Song Father and Song Mother in turn. Handing the oil-paper umbrella to his wife, he instructed:
“If you feel wronged or uncomfortable staying here, return to the Eastern Palace. I’ll be waiting for Furen at home.”
The entire Song family:…
Song Yao first showed surprise, then a smile bloomed across her coldly beautiful face. As she took the umbrella handle, she deliberately brushed against the man’s hand, immediately slipping into the role of a delicate wife who couldn’t survive without her husband’s protection.
She softened the sharpness in her voice, making it gentle, obedient, and considerate: “Alright, husband, be careful on your way.”
Nangong Yi: “Mm.”
He reached out and gently touched Song Yao’s hair adorned with jeweled hairpins before bending to board the carriage under everyone’s watchful eyes and departing.