Su Tan withdrew her hand and set the cup down on the table.
“Song Tingchen, I don’t care how you and Song Xiao choose to protect Liu Qingyin, but if you dare to randomly throw dirt on me, don’t blame me for being impolite.”
A mocking smile curled at her lips. “Since you know I’m heartless and ungrateful, you should also know that I have some skill in fortune-telling and ghost-catching. If you continue to disgust me repeatedly, I won’t mind sending a few Fierce Ghosts as gifts to you all.”
She had done her utmost for Song Xiao—everything that should have been done. But who could have predicted that her bond with him as mother and child would be so shallow? Four years of devoted care couldn’t compare to a few smiles from Liu Qingyin.
Yet that didn’t mean Song Tingchen could freely pin the blame on her.
Song Tingchen’s gaze darkened as he stared at the plum blossom in her hair, his expression growing colder. The thought of her giving the jade pendant that should have belonged to Xiao Xiao to someone else filled him with an indescribable suffocation.
“Su Tan, you go out of your way to please another’s daughter. Don’t tell me you naively believe that if Xiao Xiao were a girl, she wouldn’t like Qingyin and would wholeheartedly side with you?”
A cold smile touched his lips. “But how could that be possible? Someone as cruel and extreme as you—no one would like you, not even a child!”
A cold glint flashed in Su Tan’s eyes. With a sudden burst of strength, she picked up the teacup before her and smashed it squarely against Song Tingchen’s temple.
“Song Xiao will never be my daughter in this lifetime—he doesn’t deserve to be!”
Her only daughter was Chang Le.
As for Song Xiao, he was nothing more than a parasite that had grown inside her womb. Calling him a child was generous; he was more like a blood-sucking insect that could speak human words.
A trace of mockery flickered in her eyes. “Today at Chen Wang Mansion, General Song must have heard everything. The eldest son of Yuwang Consort was murdered at birth, causing the child’s resentment to fester and transform into a Night Cry Ghost.”
“But even as a ghost, that child remembered the grievances his mother endured and how his sister was bullied at Yuwang Manor.”
Even a ghost knew to cherish the mother who carried him for ten months and gave birth to him.
And Song Xiao?
Su Tan frowned, her expression detached as she looked at Song Tingchen. “You say I’m cruel to Song Xiao, General Song. In the past, I hadn’t seen other children and assumed all children in the world would cling to whoever fed them.”
But Chang Le wasn’t like that.
Even the Night Cry Ghost she saw today wasn’t like that.
“Song Xiao isn’t even comparable to a Night Cry Ghost.”
She let out a short, cold laugh, indifferently watching the blood trickle from Song Tingchen’s temple before rising to leave without expression. “So, Song Tingchen, it’s not just Song Xiao who’s disappointed in me—I’m equally disappointed in him.”
“In this life, our bond as mother and son has ended. You can consider him as having no mother in me, and I’ll consider myself as having no such child.”
Blood dripped from his temple, spreading across Song Tingchen’s palm. His pupils darkened abruptly, his gaze fixed unwaveringly on Su Tan’s slender, receding figure. His knuckles cracked under the force of his clenched fists. “Su Tan, don’t you regret this!”
Su Tan didn’t pause or look back.
She simply walked out of the teahouse in front of Song Tingchen and boarded the carriage back to Duke Dingguo Manor.
Snow dusted the wound on Song Tingchen’s forehead. The winter wind whipped against his face, the cold air stinging the injury with a fine, persistent pain.
Pressing his lips together, he stared heavily at the departing carriage, its wheels leaving deep tracks in the snow.
…
After Su Tan alighted from the carriage, she didn’t hurry back to her own courtyard but went to find Cui Wan, who was practicing swordplay.
Cui Wan’s swordsmanship had now reached perfection. Upon seeing Su Tan, she sheathed her long sword behind her back. “Is the matter resolved?”
A flicker of emotion passed through Su Tan’s eyes as she nodded slightly, then slowly shook her head. She recounted the plight of Yuwang Consort and her son to Cui Wan. “I plan to visit Yuwang Manor.”
Cui Wan’s expression shifted, understanding what Su Tan was recalling. A shadow of grief crossed her eyes. “I don’t feel at ease with you going alone. I’ll accompany you.”
She retrieved two Invisibility Talismans from her pouch. “These can last at most one hour. We must go and return quickly.”
“No need.” Su Tan shook her head, grasping Cui Wan’s hand with downcast eyes. “Senior sister, I came to tell you—if my second sister-in-law asks about what happened after my Divorce—”
After all the Su family men died in battle, only the elderly, weak, women, and children remained to guard the vast Duke Dingguo Manor. The seven-year-old Hong Ge’er under the care of the eldest sister-in-law would inherit the title when he turned seventeen, as the Emperor had preserved the nobility.
But in the eyes of the world, young children were prone to early demise—whether they would survive to adulthood remained uncertain.
When she divorced, the Su family stood alone and vulnerable, struggling to protect themselves.
Understanding Su Tan’s inner turmoil, Cui Wan’s eyes reddened slightly. “Don’t worry, I won’t utter a single word about Chang Le.”
After divorcing Song Tingchen, Su Tan discovered she was already one month pregnant. She guarded the child carefully, and the day of delivery went smoothly, unlike the painful ordeal of giving birth to Song Xiao.
Little Chang Le was very well-behaved and rarely fussy.
From birth, she was fair and beautiful, unlike Song Xiao, who had been wrinkled like a little monkey.
But this obedient and beautiful child remained with Su Tan for only three days.
The day her tiny body grew cold and stiff in Su Tan’s arms, Su Tan wept until she fainted. Upon waking, she told Cui Wan she had experienced a long nightmare.
Cui Wan’s heart ached with bitterness. Over the past two years, Su Tan appeared unaffected, as if she had forgotten that sorrowful event.
Yet Cui Wan knew that the name “Little Chang Le” was an eternal scar in Su Tan’s heart that could never be erased.
She didn’t insist further, merely straightening the crooked plum blossom hairpin at Su Tan’s temple. “Alright, I’ll wait for you at the Su residence. But I’ll wait only one hour—if you don’t return by then, I’ll storm Yuwang Manor.”
Su Tan nodded solemnly, then leaped up and vaulted over the courtyard wall.
…
Yuwang Manor.
Yuwang Consort was confined to a remote corner of the manor. The harsh winter was unbearable, with snow casting a vast white glow beyond the courtyard.
“Cough…”
“A Niang…”
The two-year-old Junzhu, flushed with fever, drowsily curled in her mother’s arms, reaching out to touch Yuwang Consort’s forehead.
“A Niang, don’t cry. An’an doesn’t hurt…”
Yuwang Consort wiped her tears, laid the Junzhu on the bed, and tucked her in.
“Don’t be afraid, An’an. A Niang will fetch a physician for you.”
Gritting her teeth, Yuwang Consort supported her frail body and stepped out, shivering immediately in the cold. Guards at the courtyard entrance drew their long blades to block her.
“Consort, without orders from His Highness or Consort Bai, you may not leave.”
Confined here for two years, Yuwang Consort had long lost any semblance of royal dignity and grace.
The Yuwang Consort’s fingers dug deeply into her palms. With An’an critically ill, she could not retreat for even a moment. “The Junzhu’s high fever persists—I must summon a physician. Step aside!”
The guards remained unmoving as mountains. “Consort Bai has decreed that without her approval, no one may leave this courtyard.”
Who did not know the Consort was an ill omen? Were it not for Yu Wang’s regard for their marital bond, she would not have survived to this day.
“Well, sister, what brings you the urge to venture out today?”