"What a remarkable drama this world has to offer."
After the turmoil at the border was quelled, Xie Yujin returned to the residence less and less frequently.
Zhinu, reeking of medicine, could only watch helplessly as Song Zhiluan grew increasingly frail.
Winter had arrived.
The promise of spring remained distant.
The trees in the Guo Gong Fu were draped in silver, and if the paths were not cleared promptly, slippery patches of ice would form.
Song Zhiluan opened the window, gazing at the snowflakes drifting down outside, her heart barren.
"Your Highness, the general is here."
Song Zhiluan slowly turned her head.
Xie Yujin, clad in dark robes, his cloak dotted with snowflakes, entered, bringing a gust of frosty air that swept into the inner chamber.
It melted into the warmth radiating from the red brazier.
Though the room was as warm as spring, Song Zhiluan felt a chill as she looked at him.
"Why have you been so busy lately?" she asked, her tone unable to conceal her weariness. "I wanted to see you, but I never could."
Xie Yujin stood motionless at the door.
Song Zhiluan felt a familiar pain begin to stir in her organs, a fine, dense ache creeping up her spine along her meridians.
An itch rose in her throat.
She covered her mouth and coughed for a while.
The unfamiliar scent of medicine in the room made Xie Yujin frown instinctively. He approached and reached out to feel her forehead. "Are you unwell?"
Song Zhiluan lifted her gaze, swaying slightly as she sat up. "It's just a common winter ailment, nothing unusual. It won't kill me. I didn't send for you because of my illness. I wanted to ask about my elder sister—has there been any progress?"
Xie Yujin met her gaze, his voice still devoid of emotion, betraying nothing.
As if he had truly been occupied with the matter.
"Soon."
"I see."
Hearing his reply, Song Zhiluan felt an even deeper chill in her heart. The forced smile on her lips faltered uncontrollably.
How similar it sounded to Song Huaizhang's words.
She did not ask how soon "soon" was, nor did she ask how much longer she would have to wait.
She had asked enough.
Day after day, month after month, year after year, she had waited over a decade in Song Huaizhang's "soon," hoping that when he ascended the throne, her wishes would be fulfilled. Yet, it had all been an illusion, a futile dream.
She dared not dwell on the meaning of Xie Yujin's "soon."
"I understand."
The young man stood by the couch as Song Zhiluan silently burrowed under the covers, turning her back to him as she lay down.
Not long after, the door opened and closed.
"Now is not the time…" After Xie Yujin left, Song Zhiluan muttered to herself, her face seeming to grow paler. "It seems I must wait a little longer. I wonder if there will be some hope next year."
Song Zhiluan felt that this prolonged, helpless waiting was truly the most torturous thing in the world. She was more exhausted than ever, without even the strength to speak a few more words.
At noon, Xu Yaochen arrived.
Song Zhiluan had him wait in the Warm Pavilion and instructed a maid to bring two jugs of wine. As soon as she sat down, she began drinking alone.
Xu Yaochen watched her for a long time without speaking.
"Soon, soon, do you hear me, Xu Yaochen?" Song Zhiluan slurred drunkenly. "Wait a little longer, wait, soon… Everyone tells me to wait, but no one tells me how much longer I must wait."
Tears welled in her eyes.
"They all pretend to be kind to me, saying they'd pluck the moon from the sky if I wanted it, acting as if they were omnipotent. Yet when I truly need their help, every promise they made turns out to be empty."
Seeing Song Zhiluan's genuine distress, Xu Yaochen feared she might exhaust herself with grief, so he poured the wine from the jug into a vase.
"My words have always held true."
Song Zhiluan: "Liar."
"Your Highness, I would never deceive you. It has always been this way."
It was unclear whether Song Zhiluan heard him, her tears soaking the table. Through her blurred vision, she seemed to see the gentle, youthful face of Song Heyan from distant memories.
"Sister, I am just like Father and our brothers—a liar."
Half a year after the border conflicts subsided, the court's political landscape underwent a dramatic upheaval.
The threshold of the Guo Gong Fu was crossed daily by countless high-ranking officials and nobles, with silks, jewels, rare birds, and exotic animals flowing in like drifting snow.
After winter set in, Song Zhiluan was nursed with three bowls of medicine daily. The bitter scent of the medicine mingled with her own fragrance, and her sensitive nose made her feel constantly drowsy. Fresh fruits were placed indoors to dispel the medicinal odor.
Beside the fruit platter lay numerous congratulatory letters, all without exception filled with ornate prose celebrating Xie Yujin's promotion. After Song Huaizhang ascended the throne, military officials in the court were suppressed to varying degrees, yet Xie Yujin alone rose steadily. When rumors spread that the Emperor intended to appoint him as Chancellor, his status in the court grew increasingly prominent.
Zhinu read the contents of the letters aloud, occasionally glancing at Song Zhiluan reclining on the beauty couch. Noticing her eyes were closed, she stopped reading. "Is Your Highness tired?"
Song Zhiluan slowly opened her eyes, her gaze as dark as death. "Do you think this is a joyous occasion?"
Zhinu: "Your Highness?"
Song Zhiluan remained silent.
At that moment, Yunu pushed the door open, holding a scroll in her hand.
"What is this?"
Song Zhiluan sat up, while Zhinu pulled up the slipping quilt. After her heavy drinking session with Xu Yaochen, she had instructed Yunu to monitor Xie Yujin's movements and the court's developments.
Her elder sister was still alive—she was the only one she could rely on.
Even if no one was willing to help her, she could not give up.
Yunu's expression was grim. "Your Highness will understand once you see it."
Song Zhiluan took the booklet.
It was an old booklet, but the pages were dust-free, indicating its owner frequently perused it.
She opened it without any mental preparation.
The first thing she noticed was a faint scent of blood.
Inside was a blood-written letter imprinted on cloth.
Familiar names, one after another, bled through the page with forceful intensity. The handwriting was youthful, yet already carried traces of Xie Yujin's current calligraphic style.
Song Dingyuan, Song Zhiluan, Song Huaizhang, Song Heyan, Song Liang, Song Zhen…
Fresh bloodstains marred the names of those already deceased.
Song Zhiluan stared at the names for a long time, lost in thought.
Yunu had accidentally entered the study's secret chamber, originally intending to find some leverage over Xie Yujin for Song Zhiluan.
As long as humanity remained, there would be weaknesses. Once Her Highness came to her senses, it would surely prove useful. Since polite requests had failed, perhaps General Xie, long accustomed to his high position, needed a taste of being threatened.
But the existence of this roster far exceeded her expectations.
Upon seeing Song Zhiluan's name on the blood-written letter, Yunu recalled the dream Zhinu had told her about. A surge of killing intent rose within her, and her expression remained grave throughout her return.
After reading the blood-written letter, Song Zhiluan felt unexpectedly calm.
All that had happened, from the past until now, suddenly seemed like a mockery.
It made sense now.
Why Xie Yujin harbored such deep hatred for the Song family, she no longer wished to know.
All she understood was that from Xie Yujin, there would never be a path to save her elder sister.
The faint glimmer of hope had shattered today.
Xu Yaochen had been right.
She should never have placed all her hopes on Xie Yujin.
Having lost count of how many times disappointment had struck, Song Zhiluan marveled at her own resilience. The same tragedy had played out repeatedly in her life, and she found herself seriously wondering what heinous deeds she must have committed in her past life to owe them such debts in this one.
“Well done, Yunu.”
Yunu asked, “What does Your Highness plan to do?”
Song Zhiluan shook her head, instructing Zhinu to return the ledger to its original place. Outside, snow fell in torrents. Parting her lips slightly, she swallowed a mouthful of icy air.
So it turned out that she and her elder sister had never truly escaped that kind of winter.
Forever betrayed, forever abandoned.
She had once naively believed that spring would eventually arrive.
For ten years, the one she had unilaterally loved had been plotting how to kill her and those she cared about.
What a spectacular farce this world had to offer.