She signaled for Baimei and Qingzhu to follow, then ascended slowly to the second floor.
A crowd had already gathered in the corner of the second floor, surrounding Xingrong Princess—a lavishly dressed young woman with an arrogant expression—who was pointing at a plainly dressed but elegant woman and shouting angrily.
Scattered at the woman's feet were several scroll paintings. This was none other than her half-sister, Song Sanchun.
Song Sangyu stood beside the princess with a helpless and apologetic expression.
"How dare a lowly concubine's daughter contradict me? These worthless paintings aren't even worth a single coin! Their presence here sullies the Feizhi Pavilion!"
Growing more enraged with every word, Xingrong Princess raised her hand to strike Song Sanchun across the face.
Song Yiqiu shot a glance at Baimei.
In a flash, Baimei moved like lightning, firmly grasping the princess's descending wrist. Her voice rang out clearly:
"Miss, wouldn't it be more dignified to settle this with words rather than violence?"
The princess winced in pain and shock, her anger mounting:
"Who are you? How dare you interfere with me?"
Song Sangyu spotted Song Yiqiu approaching, and a calculating glint flashed in her eyes before she exclaimed with feigned surprise:
"Elder sister? What brings you here?"
She then pretended to be concerned as she addressed the princess:
"Your Highness, this is my eldest sister who just returned from the borderlands… Her servants have grown accustomed to rough behavior—please don't take offense…"
Xingrong Princess tried to shake off Baimei's grip but failed after several attempts, fueling her fury. Seeing this, Baimei reluctantly released her wrist.
"If you wanted me to let go, you should've said so earlier. I thought Your Highness was practicing a dance move."
Rubbing her wrist, Xingrong Princess scanned Song Yiqiu with contempt:
"Oh? So you're the one who spent seven years in the borderlands and returned with questionable ties to the groom? Hmph, you truly reek of uncouth barbarianism! Why didn't you bring along that deranged foolish maid of yours today to humiliate yourself further?"
This information had clearly been "accidentally" disclosed by Song Sangyu.
Song Yiqiu shielded the disguised Qingzhu behind her and met the princess's gaze calmly:
"Seven years guarding the border was service to the nation—hardly barbaric. As for being called uncouth…"
She glanced at the scattered paintings on the floor.
"…I'd say it reflects more elegance and integrity than those who abuse their status to trample on others' efforts and dignity."
"You!"
The princess was left speechless with rage.
Song Sangyu hurriedly "mediated":
"Elder sister! How can you speak to Her Highness like that! And Sanchun sister, why must you peddle these… paintings in public when our household provides for your needs? You're embarrassing the Song family's reputation! After all, we are born of the first wife…"
Song Yiqiu cut her off coldly:
"Since when does the Song family's dignity rely on suppressing our own sisters and mistreating concubine-born children? Do Father and Mother know you 'uphold' the family's honor this way?"
"Moreover, Sanchun sister consigns her paintings here rightfully, earning through her own talent. The Feizhi Pavilion's acceptance of her work confirms its value. If Your Highness dislikes it, simply refrain from purchasing. Why resort to insults and violence?"
Whispers spread among the noble daughters nearby, their gazes toward Xingrong Princess and Song Sangyu turning subtly critical.
The princess was rendered speechless, her face flushing red.
Another noble girl beside her attempted to defend weakly:
"But… scholars, farmers, artisans, merchants—merchants are the lowest class. Selling paintings… it's ultimately undignified…"
Song Yiqiu smiled faintly:
"Young lady, your words are mistaken. Feizhi Pavilion operates as a business—isn't everyone present here to 'buy' something?"
"If we follow your logic, wouldn't we all be reduced to chasing after 'petty gains'? Calligraphy and painting are elegant pursuits. Trading them allows these works to circulate, enabling more people to appreciate beauty. How can you demean this with the simplistic label of 'commerce'?"
The noble daughter was instantly rendered speechless.
Seeing that she couldn't gain any advantage and had instead drawn trouble upon herself, Xingrong Princess shot Song Yiqiu a fierce glare, directing all her resentment toward her:
"Enough, Song Yiqiu! This princess remembers you! This matter isn't over! Let's go!"
With that, she stormed downstairs with her entourage in tow.
Song Sangyu hadn't expected Song Yiqiu to be so sharp-tongued, turning the situation around with just a few words and leaving her embarrassed as well. She could only offer an awkward smile before hurriedly following the princess.
Song Yiqiu paid them no further mind, bending down to help the silent Song Sanchun gather the scattered paintings one by one.
"Thank you."
Song Sanchun's voice was soft, carrying a tone of detachment.
Noticing the numerous rolled-up paintings she had packed, Song Yiqiu said:
"Elder sister, you've brought so many paintings—it must be inconvenient to carry them back. My carriage is waiting outside. Shall we return together?"
Song Sanchun hesitated for a moment, glanced at the paintings on the ground, and nodded.
The atmosphere inside the carriage was tense.
Song Sanchun sat rigidly upright, her expression cold, and was the first to speak in a stiff tone:
"Song Yiqiu."
It seemed she couldn't even bring herself to call her "younger sister."
Song Yiqiu knew little about this half-sister. In her previous life, she only knew that Sanchun had married very late. Now, it appeared that she was venturing out to sell paintings—a practice that would inevitably draw contempt in an era that prioritized scholars, farmers, artisans, and merchants in that order.
"Sanchun elder sister,"
Song Yiqiu replied calmly,
"According to the mansion's rules, the monthly allowance for your mother's courtyard is a hundred taels. While not lavish, it should suffice to sustain your household."
"Why then must you go to such lengths… selling these cherished paintings?"
She could tell that Song Sanchun handled each painting with great care—it was clear she had no real desire to part with them.
Song Sanchun abruptly looked up, flushed with shame and anger, thinking Song Yiqiu was mocking her.
Immediately, her brows furrowed coldly, and she retorted vehemently:
"Shouldn't you ask your esteemed mother about that? Song Yiqiu, don't think that just because you helped me today, I'll be grateful to you."
"If it weren't for the madam, my mother wouldn't have been reduced to such a state! How could I, past twenty, still be unmarried and forced to sell paintings publicly just to make ends meet?"
She paused to catch her breath before continuing her accusation:
"The madam may have a reputation for virtue! But who knows that in my mother's Hibiscus Courtyard, every meal consists of coarse tea and plain porridge? Even Ziyu, who's still growing, often goes hungry! Not to mention all the others in the courtyard who need to be fed!"
"My younger sister Ruo Ling has reached marriageable age, yet she doesn't even have a decent hair ornament… If I don't sell paintings, are we supposed to starve to death in that courtyard?"
Song Yiqiu fell silent.
She hadn't realized her mother had withheld support to such an extent.
After a long while, she took out a heavy purse from her bosom and firmly pressed it into Song Sanchun's hands.
Song Sanchun recoiled as if burned, flinging it away angrily:
"Song Yiqiu! Are you insulting me? You and that Song Sangyu are nothing but birds of a feather! Hypocrites!"
Baimei glared furiously.
"Hey! I don't understand how you can't tell good from bad! If it weren't for my young lady today, you'd have been beaten to death by that wretched princess!"
Qingzhu quickly pulled Baimei back and said gently to Song Sanchun:
"Miss Sanchun, you've misunderstood. My young lady meant no harm, she was only…"
Song Yiqiu raised her hand to stop them.
From the pile of paintings, she precisely extracted one titled "Magpie Picking Autumn Persimmons," unfolded it for a look, and spoke in an utterly calm tone:
"Sister Sanchun, are you joking? Did you think I meant to give you charity?"
She shook the painting in her hand,
"I simply took a fancy to this painting. 'Joy ascending the brows, persimmons bringing auspiciousness' – I'm just seeking some good fortune. This money is payment for the painting."
Song Sanchun froze momentarily, instinctively weighing the purse in her hand. The silver inside… far exceeded the combined value of all her paintings, even enough to buy her paintings for the coming year with plenty to spare.
Even she, foolish as she was, understood that Song Yiqiu was saving her dignity. Her face showed disbelief as her voice softened:
"There's… no need for this much…"
Song Yiqiu carefully rolled up the painting, her tone detached yet carrying undeniable authority:
"The value of a painting is never determined by the seller, but by the buyer. I believe it's worth this price."
Song Sanchun bit her lower lip, her eyes slightly reddening. After a long pause, she managed with great difficulty to whisper:
"…Thank you."
Song Yiqiu merely waved her hand, her gaze turning toward the window, offering no further words.
The carriage proceeded toward the Song residence in the somewhat heavy atmosphere.