FYM - 9

Hearing the voice, she turned her head and indeed saw two men step in from behind the screen. The elder one, slightly shorter with high cheekbones like Lady Wan, was her twenty-four-year-old eldest brother, Song Mingzhuo. The other, taller and clad in a silver brocade robe with sharp eyebrows and bright eyes, was her nineteen-year-old second brother, Song Mingzhen.

“Eldest Brother, Second Brother.”

Song Shuyan rose to greet her brothers. Her almond-shaped eyes brightened slightly upon seeing her second brother, revealing the first genuine smile since leaving Qiantang for the north.

“Always trying to flatter yourself,” Lady Wu teased her son from the side. “Our Fourth Sister clearly asked about both brothers—when did she single you out?”

This was a subtle way of supporting Song Shuyan, ensuring she wouldn’t offend Lady Wan by appearing too close to Concubine Wu’s household. Though young, Song Shuyan understood the nuances of social dynamics and subtly sent a grateful glance toward her stepmother.

Song Mingzhen, being a man, didn’t grasp these finer details. He simply laughed and said, “Well, she treats everyone equally, but I’m especially fond of her. Here, I bought these fresh cherry pastries from the Western Market just for you.”

With that, he handed over the box of pastries to Song Shuyan. His younger sister, sitting nearby, complained playfully about his favoritism.

Seeing the siblings joke and laugh together brought joy to Song Dan, who sat at the head of the gathering. In a rare moment of humor, he teased his second son: “If you care so much for your Fourth Sister, why are you returning so late today? Perhaps hunting still takes precedence?”

“Father, don’t wrong me,” Song Mingzhen replied with a grin, bowing slightly. “We were supposed to return after noon, but who could have guessed that Zhong Ji would come today? We spent much time exchanging pleasantries with him. My elder brother and I couldn’t leave earlier.”

“Zhong Ji?” Song Dan raised an eyebrow, his expression tightening slightly. “Are you referring to Lord Zhong He’s son, the young master of the Zhong family, the Two-Town Military Governor?”

“Precisely,” the eldest son, Song Mingzhuo, interjected. “I heard that Minister Zhong has also been summoned back to Chang’an and will celebrate the New Year in the Western Capital.”

“The Zhong family.”

This was undoubtedly one of the most noteworthy surnames in court at the time.

The Zhong family of Longyou was not originally a prestigious lineage; their ancestors even had some Hu bloodlines. However, they produced a favored concubine whose star had risen steadily since entering the palace in the third year of Ruixian. She had long overshadowed the empress and bore two princes for the emperor. The younger prince, Prince Wei Zhen, tragically passed away in childhood, but the elder, Prince Wei Zheng, became the most trusted son of Emperor Hui. Under the concubine’s protection, the entire Zhong family rose to prominence. Zhong He, the elder brother, now held the titles of Military Governor of Hexi and Longyou, commanding a hundred thousand troops—a position of immense power and prestige.

“Did you meet any of their female relatives?” Lady Wan’s eyes lit up, her drooping eyelids lifting slightly. “We didn’t know the Zhong family had returned to Chang’an, and we haven’t yet extended an invitation. How embarrassing.”

She was referring to her upcoming birthday banquet, hoping to cultivate closer ties with the Zhong family. However, Song Mingzhuo replied, “We only met the young military advisor, Zhong Ji. The ladies of the household did not accompany him.”

Lady Wan seemed disappointed and considered sending someone to visit the Zhong residence. Song Dan reached out to stop her, his expression tinged with unease. Without elaborating in front of the children, he simply said, “Shuyan has traveled for more than half a month and must be tired. You should rest early tonight. If anything is lacking, speak to your mother.”

Song Shuyan wondered if her father’s words were intentionally avoiding addressing her directly. A faint pang of hurt pricked her heart, but she said nothing further, merely bowing again and replying, “Thank you, Father, for your consideration.”

Her courtyard, located west of Yayan Hall, was modestly named Pingwu Pavilion , chosen by herself.

It wasn’t large, spanning about three zhang on each side. A small swing stood in the corner, and inside the room, a four-panel folding screen separated the inner and outer spaces. Beyond the screen lay a long desk, a three-sided sandalwood bed, and an old-fashioned wardrobe.

She only stayed here for a little over a month each year, and the place was typically maintained by two maidservants who were notoriously lazy. Dust coated every surface, ignored by them until Zhui’er, the chief maid, had to roll up her sleeves and clean everything herself. Nurse Cui, usually quick-tempered, wanted to scold the negligent servants but feared offending the mistress and bringing trouble upon her own lady. Thus, she swallowed her frustration and endured silently.

Meanwhile, Song Shuyan busied herself tidying her desk, unexpectedly uncovering a few old paintings she had copied the previous year. At the time, she was still new to painting, and her ink bamboo sketch was awkward and uneven. Smiling gently at the memory, she suddenly heard movement in the courtyard. Pushing open the window, she peeked out and saw her second brother arriving, passing through the arched stone gate. Upon entering, he immediately reprimanded the two lazy maids, scolding them sternly: “You’ve known for half a month that your mistress would return. Why is the courtyard still in such disarray? Just because she’s gentle and doesn’t hold you accountable doesn’t mean you can abuse your position!”

His outburst terrified the two maids into kneeling and begging for forgiveness. Nurse Cui and Zhui’er looked smug, while Song Shuyan remained in her room. She thought it unwise to intervene, as stopping her brother would embarrass him, and not intervening might make her appear arrogant. Ultimately, she decided against stepping outside.

A short while later, Song Mingzhen entered the room. As soon as he came in, he remarked, “The people in this courtyard are far too lazy. They need to be properly disciplined.”

Song Shuyan didn’t respond immediately. Instead, she invited him to sit down and had Zhui’er serve tea. Then, she brought out the cherry pastries Song Mingzhen had given her earlier in the hall, teasing him: “Second Brother, you’re quite the schemer. You say you bought these snacks for me, but aren’t you really using them to entertain yourself?”

“I just praised you for having a conscience, and now I see I misjudged you,” Song Mingzhen mock-scolded her with a laugh. “Where did you learn such a sharp tongue in the past year? Is it all used to torment me?”

Song Shuyan’s eyes curved into a smile, her youthful joy endearing and heartwarming. Yet her smile faded quickly. While pouring tea, she glanced outside at the two maids who had just been reprimanded. Turning back, her voice softened as she said, “I don’t live here often, so I’m not exactly their proper mistress. There’s no need for you to upset Stepmother on my behalf.”

She was well aware of her second brother’s delicate position within the household.

His mother, Lady Wu, had humble origins and was brought into the household under the pretext of being “fertile” when Song Shuyan’s mother, Lady Qiao, struggled to bear children. As a concubine-born son, he already faced many hardships. Moreover, unlike his elder brother, who excelled in scholarly pursuits and passed the civil service exam at twenty-one, Song Mingzhen disliked studying and preferred martial pursuits. In a scholarly family like the Songs, this made his situation even more awkward, and he often faced his father’s reproaches.

Now, with Lady Wan wielding absolute authority in the inner quarters, even minor offenses could incur her wrath. Since Song Shuyan didn’t reside in the estate permanently, it was better to tolerate small grievances rather than provoke trouble by standing up for herself or others.

Song Mingzhen understood her reasoning. He knew she had always been wise and resilient, yet he countered, “Why do you think you’re not the ‘proper mistress’? Are you still considering yourself a guest? One day, you’ll return here permanently—you can’t spend your whole life in Qiantang.”

“As for Stepmother,” he added with a dismissive snort, “it’s fine when we’re young, but now that we’re adults, what harm can she possibly do? Besides, the military examination is coming in spring. Once I pass and earn my title as a general, I’ll take you and Shuqing out to enjoy ourselves.”

Though spoken in jest, his words revealed how sincerely he regarded her as his sister. Song Shuyan felt touched, her smile softening even further. She replied gently, “Even so, we shouldn’t be too ostentatious. Appearances matter.”

“You’re the expert at appearances,” he teased, tapping her forehead lightly. “Truthfully, I know you don’t need my protection—you’ve always found ways to stay at peace.”

“That’s not entirely true,” Song Shuyan replied with another smile, her eyes twinkling mischievously. “There are still things I need my Second Brother’s help with. For instance, there’s something tonight.”

Song Mingzhen raised an eyebrow and asked what it was. Beside him, Zhui’er giggled and chimed in, “Our young miss wants to ask Second Young Master to accompany her to the Eastern Market. Tomorrow is Mistress Wan’s celebration, and our lady hasn’t prepared her gift yet.”

At the mention of running errands for Lady Wan, Song Mingzhen immediately lost interest. Waving his hand dismissively, he said, “Is that all? Such a trivial matter isn’t worth your personal effort. Send someone else instead. You’ve traveled for half a month—aren’t you tired?”

In truth, Song Shuyan wasn’t entirely unprepared. She had brought some local specialties from Qiantang, but fearing they might seem insufficient for the occasion, she wanted to purchase something more substantial to present. However, she didn’t have much money—her grandmother had given her only thirty to fifty taels, which had to cover various expenses, including bribes for servants.

Zhui’er, deeply concerned for her mistress, seized the opportunity to extort some funds from Song Mingzhen. “Sending someone isn’t difficult—I can handle it myself. But as for the money…”

Song Mingzhen paused, then burst out laughing, realizing he’d been caught in a scheme. Unsure whether to be amused or annoyed, he watched Song Shuyan laugh sweetly, rendering him powerless to resist. Finally, he reluctantly pulled out his purse, grumbling, “You and your maid grow craftier every year. It seems fourteen is a turning point for girls—they go from being lovable to troublesome...”

Zhui’er didn’t mind. Clutching the money with a wide grin, she curtsied sweetly and said, “Wishing you boundless fortune, Second Young Master!” She then enthusiastically refilled his tea several times before seeing him off. Returning, she sighed with admiration, telling her mistress, “Second Young Master is truly the best person in the world. I wonder which lucky young lady will have the fortune to marry him...”

Song Shuyan smiled at this and teased, “So being swindled out of money makes him the best?”

“Not just that,” Zhui’er’s eyes sparkled. “He’s also incredibly handsome—the most handsome young master I’ve ever seen!”

She paused suddenly, as if recalling something, and corrected herself: “No, no, the second most handsome. He’s still a bit less striking than the gentleman who helped us lift the carriage in the mountains the other night!”

That man…

Song Shuyan froze, unable to conjure his face in her mind. When she recalled that night, all she remembered was the howling wind and snow, the stark desolation punctuated by the clear neighing of a noble steed. Beyond that, she could only picture his hands, stained with mud and snow, and the fleeting glimpse of his blurred silhouette through the window cracks—too indistinct to make out clearly.

—So he was actually a very handsome man?

Song Shuyan smiled faintly, marveling at the fleeting nature of their chance encounter. With a soft “Is that so?” she turned and retreated to the inner room to tidy her desk once more.