FYM - 47

…She shouldn’t let herself be captivated by him again.

The sound of the river that night had long faded away, and the year they hadn’t seen each other had taught her the illusory nature of those distant “spring mountains.” Yet perhaps there are moments in life when one cannot help but lose control. At that moment, his gaze pinned her to the spot, and she realized her so-called detachment wasn’t as steadfast as she had thought.

“Third Brother—”

In her daze, she heard her second brother call out joyfully beside her. He strode forward toward the man, his expression warm as he greeted him with a respectful “Zi Qiu.” The man’s gaze shifted momentarily from her, only to return inexplicably a moment later.

She hesitated, unmoving, drawing everyone’s attention. Then a gentle laugh broke the silence. Turning toward the voice, she saw Lady Jiang, the former Duchess of the Fang family, sitting to the man’s right, her eyes twinkling with warmth as she gazed at Song Shuyan.

“Just now, I was asking your father about you. It seems fate has brought us together—come here, child, and sit.”

This was far too polite. She had never enjoyed the privilege of formally greeting esteemed guests in the Song household. Now, being called upon left her hesitant, earning a slight frown from her father seated at the head of the hall. He signaled for her to approach. Lowering her head, she stepped forward and bowed to Lady Jiang amidst the bewildered stares of Lady Wan and her third sister.

“Greetings, Lady Jiang.”

Turning slightly toward the man, she bowed again, carefully addressing him: “…Lord Fang.”

This was the first time she had called him by this title. Though it felt awkward, under the watchful eyes of the crowd, there seemed to be no other choice. Besides, a year ago, he had not allowed her to call him “Third Brother.” Now, this formality seemed appropriate.

He appeared momentarily stunned, his response delayed. After a brief silence, he finally said, “…Miss Song, there’s no need for such formalities.”

She rose at his words, intending to take her seat further down. Unexpectedly, Lady Jiang called her back, her gentle smile unwavering. “Sit by me. It’ll be easier to talk. Yi Zhi, move aside.”

Fang Xianting had already been standing. Hearing his mother’s words, he stepped back slightly. Instinctively, she looked up, her gaze meeting his. The tall figure still gazed down at her, his deep eyes reflecting her image.

She: “…”

“This is inappropriate,” her father interjected, visibly flustered. He quickly called for the servants. “Someone, bring another seat for Lord Fang.”

The seating arrangement became somewhat chaotic. Her father remained seated at the head of the hall, with Lady Wan and her third sister, Song Shuqian, on his lower right. To his left, the first seat naturally belonged to the esteemed guest, Lady Jiang. The second seat should have been Fang Xianting’s, but now Song Shuyan occupied it. He had moved to the third seat, with her second brother seated beside him in the fourth.

Lady Wan and Song Shuqian were utterly dumbfounded, unable to comprehend why the former Duchess treated Song Shuyan, this seemingly insignificant girl, with such favor. Even Song Dan was perplexed. Looking between Lady Jiang and his youngest daughter, he cautiously asked, “Lady Fang, you and my daughter…”

Lady Jiang continued to appraise Song Shuyan, her smile growing warmer with each passing moment, as if she liked her more with every glance. Turning to Song Dan, she replied softly, “Your daughter and I do share a connection. When we traveled from Chang’an to Luzhou last year, she kindly assisted us on the river. Your teachings have borne fruit; both my son and I are indebted to her.”

This…

“There was such an incident?” Song Dan was astonished, his expression toward his youngest daughter shifting subtly—whether it was admiration or unfamiliarity, it was hard to tell. “Shuyan has never mentioned it at home…”

“Miss Song possesses a noble heart. She lends a helping hand without seeking recognition,” Lady Jiang’s smile deepened. “Though she may not dwell on it, we cannot overlook her kindness. This visit includes a token of our gratitude.”

With that, she called for her son. Fang Xianting rose once more, taking a modest sandalwood box from Lin Ze, who had appeared behind him unnoticed. He extended it to Song Shuyan, saying, “A small gift, a token of our appreciation.”

That simple gesture stirred memories in Song Shuyan—the time, a year ago, when she had returned the Spring Mountain painting to him in a similar box. Their connection had always been tenuous. Even if she accepted this gift now, she knew it would likely be returned someday.

Hesitating, she glanced at her father. Seeing the situation, Song Dan deemed it unwise to refuse and signaled her to accept. Understanding, she bowed her head slightly to Fang Xianting and took the box with both hands, already feeling the piercing glares of Lady Wan and her third sister burning into her.

Silently sighing, she lowered her gaze and sat down. Only after she had settled did he follow suit. She wondered if she was overthinking, but something about the moment felt…

Before she could articulate her thoughts, Lady Jiang spoke again, addressing her. “We should have thanked you earlier, but I’ve been recuperating in Luzhou and only recently decided to return to Yichuan. A year has passed, and I hope Miss Song can forgive the delay.”

These words were humbling. Feeling uneasy, Song Shuyan quickly inclined her body and replied, “It was but a small act of kindness, unworthy of mention. Lady Jiang’s generosity overwhelms me…”

As she spoke, she discreetly raised her eyes to gauge Lady Jiang’s demeanor. Indeed, compared to their encounter on the river a year ago, her complexion was much rosier, and her gaze no longer held the weariness of grief. Clearly, a year of rest had done her well. Song Shuyan sincerely rejoiced for her.

—She mentioned returning to Yichuan from Luzhou? So Fang Xianting’s visit to Jiangnan was solely to escort his mother back? But why had he detoured to Jinling? With the current turmoil in Chang’an, as the new head of the Fang family, shouldn’t he be there to manage affairs?

Lost in thought, she felt a sudden warmth in her palm. Lady Jiang had gently taken her hand—a gesture no elder, save her grandmother and Lady Wu, had ever shown her. Startled, she heard Lady Jiang say, “You’re too formal, child. We’re just having a casual conversation. There’s no need to be so stiff. May I address you by name? Calling you ‘Miss Song’ feels too distant…”

Song Shuyan couldn’t refuse and nodded slightly, albeit uncomfortably. Across from her, Song Shuqian watched this exchange with barely concealed resentment. She thought bitterly: Back in Chang’an, despite all her and her mother’s efforts to ingratiate themselves, Lady Jiang had merely addressed her as “Miss Three.” How could she now show such favor to this motherless, lesser sister?

Jealousy burned within her, but Lady Jiang paid no heed. Upon seeing Song Shuyan nod, she softly called her name, “Shuyan,” and asked, “When I met you last year, you hadn’t yet come of age. Now you must be fifteen. Have you been betrothed, or is there someone you admire?”

This…this question…

If Lady Wan and her daughter had harbored any lingering hope that Lady Jiang’s intentions were merely to thank Song Shuyan for her past assistance, those hopes were now dashed. It was clear that Lady Jiang had taken a liking to Song Shuyan. Could it be that she intended to seek a bride for her son, the Marquis of Yichuan?

Song Shuyan was utterly bewildered, rendered speechless despite not being mute. Beside her, Fang Xianting suddenly coughed twice, his voice close to her ear. She turned to look at him, catching a glimpse of his unusually awkward expression—far from his usual composed demeanor.

“Mother…”

He glanced at her briefly before frowning and calling out to Lady Jiang. Clearly, he wished to prevent his mother from hastily arranging a match. Though she understood this was reasonable, a part of her felt relieved while another inexplicably grew bitter. It made no sense.

“Lady Jiang, Fourth Daughter has already been promised to someone…”

To everyone’s surprise, it was Lady Wan who interjected, her face plastered with a polite smile, though her sharp cheekbones seemed even more pronounced.

“It’s the eldest son of Governor Wang of Xuanchou—a handsome and refined young man. They’ve met several times. If Lady Jiang and Lord Fang can spare a few more days in Jinling, there might still be time to attend the wedding banquet.”

…Wedding banquet?

This statement was absurd. Song Shuyan and the young master Wang had barely interacted, and their few meetings had all been under the watchful eyes of elders. Yet Lady Wan’s words insinuated something more, clearly aiming to secure a better marriage prospect for her own daughter, regardless of the consequences.

Song Shuyan saw through her stepmother’s schemes clearly. For a moment, retorts hovered on her lips, but she swallowed them back. It wasn’t fear that stopped her—it was the knowledge that explanations wouldn’t change anything. The threshold of the Fang family wouldn’t lower because of her words, nor would Fang Xianting’s feelings tilt in her favor.

“Mother’s words are somewhat inappropriate—”

Unexpectedly, Song Mingzhen, the second son, suddenly spoke up. Though he hadn’t noticed the subtle tension between Song Shuyan and the Fangs, he disliked the idea of Lady Wan forcing a connection between his sister and a notorious playboy.

“My sister and Master Wang have met only a handful of times. It’s premature to discuss marriage. Moreover, her matrimonial affairs ultimately require approval from Qiantang. Rushing this matter could harm her reputation…”

Lady Wan’s face darkened at these words, though she maintained a veneer of composure. The embarrassment in her eyes, however, was impossible to conceal. Song Shuyan felt a flicker of gratitude toward her brother, knowing full well that explanations wouldn’t change anything. Was she imagining things? As she glanced sidelong at Fang Xianting’s hand, she noticed it had been tightly clenched but relaxed slightly after her brother’s words.

She avoided looking further, exchanging a quick glance with her brother before quietly resuming her seat. Lady Jiang, ever perceptive, observed the subtle dynamics among the group. Smiling kindly, she added, “Indeed… Shuyan has grown into such a fine young lady. Naturally, she deserves an exceptional husband. Such matters cannot be rushed.”

Her words remained ambiguous, leaving Song Dan uncertain whether Lady Jiang truly intended to forge a marital alliance with his family. The new emperor had ascended the throne, and the Fangs no longer relied on the Songs as they had earlier in the year. Moreover, he and his brother had retreated to Jiangnan. What value did they hold for the Fangs now?

Unable to fully grasp the situation, Song Dan refrained from delving deeper. After a few casual remarks, he turned the conversation to inquire when the esteemed guests planned to return to Yichuan. Lady Jiang replied that she intended to wait for warmer weather before traveling north by boat. Turning to Song Shuyan, she smiled warmly. “Jinling has always been a place of endless charm. Yi Zhi and I will be staying by the northern bank of Qingxi River. If you have time, I hope you’ll accompany me to explore the markets.”