Psst! We're moving!
The “resolution” Fang Xianting promised came swiftly.
That same day, after Governor Han Fangping left Jiangyun Pavilion, he immediately issued a strict order to ban prostitution. Soldiers swept through the pleasure quarters, creating chaos in brothels and teahouses. Within hours, the melodies of courtesans vanished from Qingxi River, leaving the onlookers along both banks astonished by the sudden transformation.
The next day, Wang Yuan, the governor of Xuanchou, arrived at the Song residence with his son, seeking an audience with Marquis Fang. Fang Xianting did not meet them but instructed the Wangs to apologize directly to Song Shuyan. The marriage contract between the two families was annulled, with no chance of renewal. The suggestive poem that had spread throughout Jinling remained, but Fang’s capable men quickly uncovered a courtesan named “Shuang” or “E,” claiming the verse was written for her. To maintain appearances, Wang Xu was forced to take her as a concubine. Thus, the once-prestigious Wang family saw their reputation plummet, their eldest son marrying a courtesan—a disgrace they would struggle to overcome.
These developments inevitably reached Song Dan’s ears.
Lady Wan had spent days bitterly complaining to her husband, accusing his youngest daughter of being cunning, shameless, and disrespectful to her stepmother and elder sister. Her incessant grievances wore on Song Dan, prompting him to summon Song Shuyan for questioning.
“Your mother was only concerned about your marriage. How could you defy her so openly?”
Song Dan reprimanded her sternly, yet looking at his obedient daughter, he struggled to reconcile her behavior with Lady Wan’s accusations. Suspicious of exaggeration, he hesitantly asked, “You and Lord Fang…”
His question trailed off awkwardly. As a father, it was uncomfortable to broach such topics, especially since he doubted the Fang family would consider his low-profile youngest daughter. Song Shuyan responded respectfully, explaining that Lord Fang was noble and close to her second brother. His intervention likely stemmed from disapproval of the situation, nothing more.
Song Dan nodded, finding this explanation plausible. Yet, he couldn’t help but hope that if Shuyan were to marry into the Fang family, it would benefit the Songs. However, the complications with his second wife and beloved daughter Shuqian troubled him.
In Song Shuyan’s quarters, her attendants rejoiced.
Initially, only Zhui’er had harbored hopes for her mistress, but now even cautious Cui Mama believed a match with Marquis Fang wasn’t impossible. They exchanged knowing smiles, stirring the turbulent waters of Song Shuyan’s heart further.
Slowly, she admitted to herself… she entertained wild thoughts.
At first, it was small—she merely wished to speak to him when peeking from behind the screen in Chang’an. Later, at Lishan, she hoped he’d walk longer with her, even brushing snowflakes from his hair. Months later, during their fleeting encounter on the river, she simply wanted to see him off. Now, having called him “Third Brother,” she yearned for something more.
Despite denying these feelings repeatedly, recent events haunted her relentlessly. She lay awake nights, tormented by sweet torment. At the slightest lapse, she recalled his faint smile, his deep voice declaring, “Fourth Sister’s virtue is precious…” Her unruly emotions overwhelmed her, making her increasingly reckless.
...And she had made a grave mistake.
At Jiangyun Pavilion, she shouldn’t have argued with her stepmother in front of him and Lady Jiang. Her sharp, defiant demeanor must have been startling. She had a gentle façade to present to them—why had she exposed her vulnerabilities?
He hadn’t seen her like that before… Would he now disdain her, as her stepmother and sisters did?
Two days later, a delayed response finally arrived from Qiantang.
From year-end to late January, the reply was indeed tardy. However, Grandmother Qiao was methodical. Likely rejecting Wang Xu without offending the Song family, she employed the art of delay masterfully. After the new year, the letter arrived, clearly declining the proposal. It also mentioned that Song Shuyan’s cousin Qiao Zhen would marry on February 5th, suggesting she return to Qiantang for the celebration.
In previous years, Zhui’er would leap with joy at the prospect of returning to Qiantang. This time, however, she hesitated, frowning anxiously. “But… if we leave, will we ever see Lord Fang again?”
…No, they wouldn’t.
Already burdened with numerous responsibilities, he might soon return to Yichuan. If she left… then…
Song Shuyan lowered her eyes, her heart gently squeezed. Though she understood life’s transience, parting still brought melancholy. Perhaps only then did she realize her own weakness—hoping for miracles while planning to sever ties completely.
“We’ll depart the day after tomorrow,” she said, suppressing her myriad sorrows. “…I wish to visit Grandmother sooner.”
That night, sleep eluded her again.
Tossing and turning most of the night, she eventually drifted into dreams where his shadow lingered. Waking at dawn, she felt weary, sitting alone for a while before rising to dress. Breakfast offered no relief. Eventually, she decided to visit her second brother to lift her spirits and bid him farewell.
Winding through the garden toward her brother’s courtyard, she noticed several maids clustered near the entrance, giggling and blushing. Curious, Song Shuyan and Zhui’er approached. Closer, they heard the clashing of weapons—intense and lively.
Peering inside, they saw two shirtless men sparring—one wielding a sword, the other a saber. It was Fang Xianting and her second brother.
Their fight was fierce, resembling battling tigers and leopards. Even from a distance, the wind from their blows felt sharp, scattering nearby plants. Sweat glistened on their muscular torsos...
Song Shuyan blushed deeply, averting her gaze. Zhui’er, however, stared unabashedly, shouting excitedly, “Second Master, be careful!”
Her loud cries drew their attention. Spotting Song Shuyan standing quietly, they paused. Fang Xianting immediately grabbed his shirt, while her brother rushed over to cover her eyes.
“Shuyan, why didn’t you announce your arrival…”
This was unreasonable; she never needed to send word before visiting. Besides, she had already closed her eyes, though images of Fang Xianting’s bare torso lingered—broad shoulders, narrow waist…
She heard rustling as they hastily dressed. Her brother scolded Zhui’er, “Girls at fourteen face challenges. You two are hopeless—your mistress knows to close her eyes, but you? Where’s your shame?”
Zhui’er pouted, thinking what good was modesty for a servant? Such rare sights were worth every glance. Meanwhile, Song Shuyan glanced shyly at Fang Xianting, now dressed but slightly disheveled, his chest rising and falling more noticeably than usual...
She looked away, bowing formally. “...Third Brother.”
He coughed, responding somewhat awkwardly. Her second brother, belatedly realizing, asked, “When did you start calling him ‘Third Brother’?”
The question hung ambiguously. Before she could respond, Fang Xianting interjected, “I suggested it, following your example.”
Ever obedient to Fang Xianting, her brother accepted this explanation, chuckling, “Indeed, it’s fitting. Our Fourth Sister is usually so shy. Convincing her shows skill.”
This comment flushed Song Shuyan’s cheeks. Sensing her discomfort, she quickly changed the subject, asking about their sparring. Her brother grinned, “Just some practice. I’ve been cooped up too long, needed to stretch.”
Casually adjusting his clothes, he asked, “What brings you here? Something important?”
Song Shuyan had come with Fang Xianting on her mind, only to unexpectedly encounter him here. Flustered, she faltered. Seeing her hesitation, Fang Xianting assumed sibling matters required privacy and prepared to excuse himself.
Watching him turn to leave, an inexplicable ache gripped her heart. “Wait,” she blurted impulsively.
He stopped, turning back. Her eyes shimmered like autumn water, more captivating than the spring scenery. His heart fluttered uneasily.
“There’s no need to leave. It’s not a big matter…”
Her beautiful face still bore a faint blush, her voice softly brushing past his ear.
“I’m… returning to Qiantang.”