FYM - 87

By the time she returned home, her father was already waiting for her in her room.

Song Shuyan was not surprised. She had noticed his unusual demeanor before leaving the house earlier. What she hadn’t expected, however, was that the emperor himself would visit Jinling amidst such turbulent times—and that her father had already made his choice between her and her third sister.

Perhaps she no longer felt any resentment. Having witnessed life-and-death struggles and the tumult of joy and sorrow, looking back at the conflicts between her and her father now seemed trivial. It all boiled down to their shallow bond—there was nothing to blame or resent.

She gave him a slight bow, then turned to retreat into her inner chambers. But he called out to her: “Shuyan…”

“Shuyan.”

This time, his tone wasn’t as harsh as it had been last year in the main hall, but it still carried an air of estrangement. She paused and turned back to face him. He waved his hand, dismissing the servants from the room. Zhui’er and Nurse Cui looked at her with unease in their eyes, but she nodded to reassure them that everything was fine. Once the door closed, only the two of them remained.

“…Have you met His Majesty?”

Song Dan spoke first, his expression probing yet tinged with guilt. Song Shuyan almost found it amusing, but ultimately saw no point in doing so. She simply nodded in response.

“Good…” He hesitated, as if struggling to find the right words. “…So, did you agree?”

His question was laughable, as if she had any other choice. A faint trace of mockery flickered across her brow as she countered, “Hasn’t Father already made up his mind? Or, if I refuse, will Third Sister take my place instead?”

Her words were sharp daggers, though it was unclear who they wounded more. Song Dan’s hands tightened slightly within his sleeves, his gaze on his youngest daughter growing increasingly complex.

“Shuyan…” He sighed heavily. “You don’t understand…”

“The nation is on the brink of collapse, chaos reigns, and our Song family cannot remain unscathed. Assisting the imperial household in relocating south is the only path we can take. I’m not as composed as you think…”

“The emperor has long been ill, and his only heir is a young prince born to a palace maid. When the day comes… he will become the new ruler of this realm.”

“How old will he be then? Nine? Ten? Twelve? Thirteen?”

“At such a tender age, how can he rule? The only way to stabilize the court will be through the empress dowager’s regency…”

Song Dan took a deep breath. At that moment, he was no longer just a father or anyone’s enemy—he was the patriarch of the most prominent clan in Jiangnan and a pillar of the Qingliu faction in court.

“Could your sister handle that position?”

“She’s too immature, too foolish, still stuck in her childish ways. How could she possibly serve as the empress and mother to a young sovereign? How could she wield power and navigate the complexities of the throne with the ministers?”

“But Shuyan… you’re different.”

“You’re intelligent, adept at concealing your true nature. You know how to assess situations, read people, and seize opportunities. You can let go of many things, and at the same time, pick up many others…”

He stared intently into his youngest daughter’s eyes, something he hadn’t done in nearly twenty years. It was as if he wanted to peer straight into her soul and pour all his thoughts and concerns into her without reservation.

“I know you hate me…”

He took a step back, a flicker of embarrassment crossing his face.

“You hate me for abandoning you when you were young, for causing your mother’s suffering and breaking the hearts of the Qiao elders after her passing. You believe I forgot both you and her, favoring your stepmother and her children instead…”

“You’re right… but also wrong.”

“I’ve never had a choice; I’ve always been pushed forward by circumstances. One day, you’ll understand that not everything in this world can be measured in terms of ‘right’ or ‘wrong.’ In the face of fate, everyone is a puppet, and every action is driven by necessity…”

“I don’t expect your forgiveness, nor do I hope to resolve these longstanding grievances in a few days. I only ask that, for the sake of your surname Song, and for the sake of your second brother who risks his life on the battlefield, you accept this arrangement.”

“The Song family will always be your support. With the integration of the inner court and outer court, I will do everything in my power to protect you. As long as the Song family stands, you will hold the highest position, revered by millions and remembered for generations. This will surely bring peace to your late mother’s soul…”

…He had never spoken so much to her before.

Each word, each sentence was filled with earnestness, as if he were trying to lay bare his heart for her to see. He wanted her to understand the countless hardships he had endured over the years and the guilt and concern he harbored for her.

…How convincing it all sounded.

Almost enough to deceive her.

But—

“‘Peace’…”

She murmured, a growing smile playing on her lips.

“Does Father truly believe this? Do you think mothers in this world would rejoice at seeing their own flesh and blood enter the palace as a gamble with their lives?”

“Why not bestow this honor upon Third Sister instead? Her mother is still alive—wouldn’t that bring even greater ‘peace’?”

“Oh, no… because Third Sister is ‘immature, foolish,’ ‘stubborn, childish.’ And I? I am ‘intelligent, good at concealing,’ ‘adaptable, strategic’… Only I am fit for this role.”

“But why couldn’t I have grown into a ‘childish’ temperament like hers?”

“Is it because that wouldn’t be good?”

“Or… does Father think I don’t enjoy living so freely and recklessly?”

Her tone remained calm, even though her heart was already shattered. The absurdity and coldness of the world had long overwhelmed her.

“Third Sister can’t enter the palace because Father knows she has someone protecting her…”

“Her mother will protect her, her brother will protect her, the entire Wan family in Yangzhou will protect her, and even… Father’s hidden favoritism will protect her.”

“And me?”

“No one will protect me…”

“Or perhaps… Father knows that those who would have protected me are already gone.”

Silent tears slowly spilled from her eyes—the first time she had cried in front of her father. Later, she would reflect that it wasn’t about委屈 (grievance) or anger. She was simply exhausted, too weary to continue pretending.

“You’re right—fate spares no one. Many actions are driven by necessity. But people make different choices in the face of impermanence, which leads to varying outcomes. From these differences arise the myriad complexities of life.”

“Perhaps Father took a concubine out of necessity, but he had a choice when it came to having children with my mother. Perhaps promoting my stepmother’s household after Mother’s death was unavoidable, but he had a choice when it came to sending me to Qiantang. And perhaps offering me to the palace now is forced upon us, but even in this final moment, Father had a choice—to speak honestly with his daughter…”

“Father…”

“…You could have changed many things.”

Her sadness was silent yet intense. Old wounds reopened, fresh blood flowing. Her gentle words were not accusations but a final stubborn plea before letting go.

“You said I hate you… That’s not entirely true.”

“Perhaps I once resented you, but later I understood that our bond was shallow, and inevitable things cannot be forced. So there were always words to console myself. By now, I no longer hate you—just… feel disappointed.”

Those two light, airy words—”disappointed”—cut deeply into her father. The man in his fifties turned pale, his hands trembling uncontrollably beneath his sleeves.

“Once, I thought you were merely a poor father, but at least a good lord to the Song family and a loyal subject to the nation. But later, I realized I was wrong. After Lishan, the late Duke personally entrusted you with his affairs, watching him sacrifice himself for the country. Yet during the Eastern Palace’s crisis, you chose to retreat to Jinling… That’s when I knew Lord Fang had misjudged you.”

“Father has no care for the nation, nor for the suffering of the people. Then what do you care about? The Song family’s honor? Or… only yourself?”

“You needn’t worry anymore. I’ve agreed to enter the palace. In half a month, I will head north to marry the emperor—not out of loyalty to the Song name, nor for my second brother, nor for the throne or the adoration of millions…”

“…Only because I foolishly wish to help others cross the river, and lack the shame to selfishly cling to my solitary boat.”

The word “foolishly” acknowledged her awareness of the raging torrents and the fragility of her small craft. Yet she still raised her head slightly, a stark contrast to her usual reserved demeanor. Even weeds and grass could muster courage, accepting the impossible with grace, acting without regard for themselves… Was this not somewhat akin to the state of mind of the man she loved?

She shook her head and smiled, thinking how foolish and shallow she was compared to him. Even at this moment of severance, she couldn’t abandon her greed and attachment. Perhaps deep down, she had never harbored any great righteousness—only the desire to draw closer to the purest person she had ever known.

“His Majesty is right. His trusted allies are gone, but the world still needs saving…”

She spoke again, perhaps recalling the lover she had never been able to fully cherish. Her sorrow now seemed tender and lingering.

“I’m far from being comparable to Third Brother, but since I once bore the name of his wife, I should guard what he sacrificed his life for. And if there truly is a next life, when I find him, I can say… I did my best.”

As she spoke, her expression was resolute yet tender, like lingering before the final cut. For the next decade and more, she never broke this promise, bearing this invisible chain until her dying breath.

Song Dan could no longer utter a word. In that moment, they shed all pretense and superficial constraints—they were no longer father and daughter, elder and younger, but simply two individuals. The truth of the world was simple: baseness yields to integrity, self-interest to transcendence. He looked up at his daughter, defeated by her unattainable clarity and resolve.

“Our conversation ends here today. I fear our father-daughter bond is severed beyond repair. There’s no need to pretend anymore…”

It was she who concluded their exchange, granting herself a belated liberation. Her departing figure was desolate and lonely, yet it seemed to forge new strength and vitality beyond the coldness.

“From this day forth, I sever all ties with the Song family. Should we meet again in the palace, it will be as sovereign and subject. Father… I hope you fare well.”