After turning it over in her mind again and again, this daughter wasn’t even her own blood. Right now, her only worth was fetching a hefty bride price when she married off.
Zhao Yufang sat down, her face full of reluctance. “Easy for you to say. The Lu family is already an exceptionally good match. If it weren’t for the old friendship between our elders, how could a marriage this good ever have fallen to us?”
She huffed, her temper flaring up. “Besides—if word gets out about this, what good will it do for our family? And when it comes to bride price—who could possibly offer more than the Lu family?”
Even if they found someone else, they’d never be so generous.
Not to mention the kind of life Song Qinghuan would lead—if she married Lu Qiming, it would also make things easier for their son when he looked for work later on.
Song Shouyang fell silent in thought. They’d raised Song Qinghuan all these years, and they certainly hadn’t done it to lose money.
Zhao Yufang had a point.
“So what do you think we should do?” Song Shouyang looked at her, uncertain for the moment.
“If you ask me—Lu Qiming and his sister-in-law are clearly in the wrong here. As long as we don’t call off the engagement, they can’t say much. We’ll just make the Lu family take this stubborn girl off our hands. Worst comes to worst, we ask for more compensation. If it can be solved with money, how could they possibly refuse?”
The Lu family was well-respected; they wouldn’t care about such a sum.
If word got out that a younger brother was infatuated with his brother’s widow, it would be a scandal. Families like the Lus cared deeply about their reputation—they’d never let something like that leak out.
After weighing her words carefully, Song Shouyang had to admit there was some truth to them.
“We’ll arrange a meeting between the two families then. To avoid any last-minute hitches, we should settle this sooner rather than later.”
Until Song Qinghuan was officially engaged, neither of them would feel at ease.
Ever since she’d changed her attitude, there were just too many unknowns.
Zhao Yufang glanced toward Song Qinghuan’s room and gave him a look. Song Shouyang understood exactly what she meant.
Deep into the night, the rest of the Song household slept soundly. Song Qinghuan peered outside—all was quiet. She turned back, carefully locking her door, and stepped into her space.
It was time to plant the seeds she’d bought at the market that day—fruits, vegetables, and a variety of medicinal herbs.
The soil here was far richer than anything outside, divided neatly into distinct plots. She’d brought her own tools, and by the time she’d finished turning over all the earth, she was sweating profusely.
She scattered the seeds and watered them with spring water from her space. The temperature here stayed constant—perfect for growing plants all year round.
She divided the land: one part for vegetables, so that even if she left the family, she’d never go hungry. The other part was reserved for herbs—something that would surely come in handy someday.
Once everything was arranged, she looked out over the empty plots and couldn’t help but daydream.
Some areas were still locked, only unlockable with points. She was already eager to save up every single one.
Soon enough, this place would be filled with lush herbs and crisp vegetables—every day could bring a new, delicious meal. Just thinking about it made life feel so much brighter.
When she’d finished tending to everything, she returned to her room.
She woke naturally the next day, nearly noon already.
Slowly, she pulled back the curtains—sunlight spilled across the room, filling every corner with warmth. Song Qinghuan held out a hand, letting the light wash over her, and the unease she’d carried slowly faded away.
Glancing at the clock, she murmured, “Almost eleven. I remember this is exactly when Lu Qiming fell into the water.”
She checked the calendar to be sure she hadn’t gotten the time wrong.
A faint smirk tugged at her lips as she tapped her fingers lightly against her book. In her past life, she’d saved him—and from that moment on, their fates had been twisted together.
You really shouldn’t meddle too deeply in other people’s karma—otherwise, you’re the one who ends up paying the price.
She let out a soft laugh and settled her resolve. If he lived or died this time around, it had nothing to do with her.
Still—she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t curious about the show that was about to unfold.
On a whim, she quickly changed her clothes, slung her bag over her shoulder, and set off with a spring in her step.
After all, Lu Qiming was practically her enemy. She had no intention of saving him—but watching the drama unfold was hardly a crime.
In her past life, she’d had no choice but to be tied to him—treated like a possession, forced to bend to his every will.
But now? She was finally free to be herself.
As she gathered her things, she hummed a tune—genuinely happy for the first time in a long while.
If Lu Qiming had his way, he’d hope his beloved sister-in-law would jump in to save him—giving them the perfect excuse to be together openly.
But she wondered if that dear sister-in-law of his had the guts to jump into the river with everyone watching.
At the thought of Wang Siyu, her beautiful peach-blossom eyes turned cold.
Before she died, Wang Siyu had been so desperate to take her place that she’d foolishly conspired with her kidnappers. But Song Qinghuan hadn’t gone down without a fight—even if she hadn’t met a peaceful end, she’d made sure the pair paid for every bit of what they’d done.
She’d sooner lose her life than let those two live happily ever after.
As they say—every pot has its lid.
She would never again get pulled into their mess, never again give Lu Qiming the chance to hurt her.
Only one hope remained: that the old couple of the Lu family lived long enough to watch their family’s dirty secrets unravel in full view of everyone.
Her gaze drifted to the stack of medical books on her desk—books she’d read so many times she knew every detail by heart, though she’d never had the chance to put them into practice.
These had been lent to her by her mentor, Old Madam Zhang—rare volumes that many had offered huge sums to buy, but which she’d refused to sell to anyone. She’d guarded them like treasures, determined to use them for their true purpose.