When Song Ke returned, the young ladies scattered like startled birds and retreated to the inner courtyard together. Zheng Jingxian, however, slowed her steps and asked Yue Er, "Why did the Lin sisters quarrel with that maid in the study?"
Yue Er cast a glance around and, seeing that the others had walked ahead, pursed her lips and said, "Those two Lin girls have lost their minds. When Fang Si mentioned that Master Song had bought a new maid and intended to elevate her status, showing her great favor, they grew anxious. At the instigation of Xiu, Ling found some petty excuse to pick a fight. But who would’ve thought that maid would be so formidable? Even together, Ling and Xiu couldn’t outmatch her in words."
Zheng Jingxian pressed, "How exactly was she formidable?"
Yue Er then vividly recounted how Xianglan had argued with the Lin sisters, laughing as she said, "It was truly rare. Every word she spoke was justified—so satisfying to hear."
Zheng Jingxian raised her eyebrows. "Oh? She certainly carries herself like a mistress, not even backing down in front of proper young ladies."
Yue Er shrugged. "Once you see how much Master Song dotes on her, you’ll understand. With someone powerful backing her, of course she’s bold. Besides, if Master Song elevates her status later, she’ll be a second-tier mistress and won’t have to swallow insults anymore."
Zheng Jingxian fell silent, seemingly lost in thought as she plucked a handful of leaves and idly toyed with them while walking back slowly.
To cut a long story short, the young ladies enjoyed themselves at the Song residence, laughing and chatting. After lunch, they composed poetry before each departed in their carriages.
Juanhua supported Song Tanchai as she saw the guests off at the gate. Upon returning, the maids cleared the remnants of the feast, wiping tables and chairs until everything was tidy. Juanhua lit a stick of dark eaglewood incense in the large lotus-shaped jade burner and brewed a fresh cup of Longjing tea. Noticing Song Tanchai reclining on the bed with her hand against her forehead, she tiptoed over, placed the tea on the small side table, and said softly, "If you’re tired, miss, at least change your clothes before resting."
Song Tanchai waved her hand. "It’s fine." Then she sat up and asked, "This morning, when I went to the kitchen to check on the dishes, why did everyone disappear by the time I returned? I heard there was some commotion earlier—did you find out what happened?"
Juanhua sighed. "What else could it be? When Ling heard that Master had taken a liking to a maid, she flew into a jealous rage and stormed into the study to make a scene. Who knew Xianglan, delicate as she looks, would be a rose with thorns? She left Ling speechless. In her fury, Ling nearly wrecked Master’s study—it was disgraceful. That quick-footed minx Junxi ran ahead to watch the spectacle. I’ll call her in to tell you." She summoned Junxi to recount the events.
Junxi, ever the mischievous and curious child, had been serving in the inner quarters but had scurried to the front courtyard at the first sign of commotion. Though she’d only caught half the scene, she now embellished the tale with gusto for Song Tanchai. Having grown fond of Xianglan and resenting Lin Dongling for damaging Song Ke’s study, she exaggerated the Lin sisters’ faults tenfold. Song Tanchai listened with deepening frowns before finally waving her hand dismissively. Juanhua handed Junxi a handful of coins and sent her away.Song Tanchai's face turned deathly pale as she sighed and said, "Truly, the kind are bullied. What's so great about the Lin family? As the saying goes, 'If not for the monk's sake, then for the Buddha's'—we're all family relatives, yet they disregard our dignity like this. If my father were still alive, they wouldn't dare act so shamelessly here." The more she spoke, the angrier she became, until tears rolled down her cheeks.
Juanhua patted Song Tanchai's back to comfort her. "You've been wronged, miss. Fortunately, Xianglan is sharp-tongued and didn't suffer much loss."
"Didn't suffer much?" Song Tanchai wiped her tears. "Brother's study was smashed to pieces!"
Juanhua knew Song Tanchai prided herself on perfection, leaving no room for criticism in anything she did. Beautiful, obedient, and sensible, she was highly praised. Noble ladies in the capital often told their daughters, "Look at the Tan girl from the Song family—that's the model of a proper young lady. Learn from her when you can!"
After Song Fang's death, their branch of the family declined steadily, especially after living separately. Some of the girls who used to play with Song Tanchai, now grown snobbish, ignored her or even sneered, "What 'proper young lady'? Now she's just from a fallen house!" Whenever Song Tanchai heard such remarks, she would retreat to cry alone, relying on Juanhua to console her.
Today's commotion caused by Dongling and Dongxiu had struck Song Tanchai's sore spot, making her weep. Juanhua soothed her, "Let's never invite those two sisters again. The summer heat is intense—don't cry yourself sick."
Just then, the door curtain lifted, and Song Ke entered. Seeing Song Tanchai sobbing on the bed, he froze. "What happened?"
Juanhua explained, "The Lin sisters wrecked the Master's study. The young lady is heartbroken, saying, 'Today's guests were my invitation, yet they've shamed me and brought trouble to my brother. I shouldn't have.' She's been crying nonstop. Please help console her, Master."
Song Ke said, "Little sister, don't blame yourself. We've long known Lin Dongling's temperament—this isn't your fault. Why take it upon yourself?"
After some gentle persuasion, she finally calmed down. Song Ke looked at his sister's reddened eyes and sighed inwardly. Extreme pride invites humiliation—his sister's obsession with face might not be a good thing. His thoughts turned to the first time he saw Xianglan, when Cao Lihuan had slapped her twice without reason, followed by scolding and insults. Yet Xianglan endured it all. Later, in casual conversation, he learned she had tolerated such treatment in the Lin household to bide her time for a decisive strike to escape that pit of suffering. He felt a quiet admiration. Had his sister been the one slapped and berated, she might have taken her own life on the spot.
But today's incident, though primarily the Lin sisters' fault, wouldn't have happened without internal discord. It was time for thorough rectification. After a moment's thought, he said, "I actually came to ask a favor of you, little sister—I'd like to request someone from you." He discussed the matter with Song Tanchai, though we'll set that aside for now.
Meanwhile, Fang Si had incited Lin Dongling and Lin Dongxiu to harass Xianglan, intending to kill with a borrowed knife—to humble Xianglan and vent her own resentment. Unexpectedly, the situation spiraled out of control. Not only did Lin Dongling cause a scene in the outer study, but she also smashed an entire table of items, right under Song Ke's watchful eyes.She was afraid of being seen by Song Ke and hurriedly slipped away. Later, she inquired and found that Song Ke had lightly brushed the matter aside. She held onto a sliver of hope, wishing the incident would be forgotten. But just now, when she went to the front study under the pretense of delivering something, Song Ke didn’t even glance at her. His cold expression was unlike his usual demeanor. Her heart sank—Song Ke had always been warm and approachable, and this change must mean he was truly displeased with her...
Fang Si recalled the days just after the old master’s passing, when Song Ke was still a boy with traces of youthful innocence. Everyone took advantage of his youth and handsome face—some bold, cunning servants stole household items to sell, while others, bribed by other branches of the Song family, leaked information about the household’s affairs and assets. When Song Ke discovered this, he dragged out a senior servant who had come to report secrets and personally flogged him with a cane until he was covered in blood.
Later, some long-serving servants, emboldened by their seniority and eager to humble the young master, were incited to kneel in a dense crowd outside the main house, wailing and lamenting, saying things like, “Since our dignity as old servants is disregarded, we beg to leave!” They even invoked the old master’s spirit, claiming he would not rest in peace.
A crowd had gathered at the gate, eager to witness the spectacle. Unexpectedly, Song Ke let them kneel from morning till night, until several collapsed from exhaustion. At dawn the next day, he took out a roster of the troublemakers, summoned a slave trader, and swiftly dragged them out of the courtyard to be sold on the spot, dealing with them harshly. No one had anticipated that a young scholar not yet of age could wield such decisive authority. The onlookers were stunned, and murmurs spread. But from then on, the disturbances in this branch of the Song family ceased. Some servants quietly requested transfers to other households, while others offered money to buy their freedom. Song Ke did not stop them. Within two months, the household had dwindled to almost nothing. Yet he doubled the monthly allowances of those who remained. Song Yima once urged him to hire more servants, but Song Ke merely replied coolly, “Fewer people are better. A simpler household makes for a quieter life.” Not long after, he suddenly announced that their branch would henceforth live separately. Only then did she realize that Song Ke had quietly accomplished such a significant feat on his own.
Her mother had once pinched her ear and said, “Our Master will go far in the future—he’s destined for greatness. If you’re lucky enough to serve him for life, you’ll enjoy riches and status beyond measure.”
Deep down, she had long harbored feelings for Song Ke. He often appeared in her dreams, and she believed that as long as she could stay by his side, she would gladly endure hardship, even if it meant eating husks and wild herbs. She knew the master would eventually marry a proper wife and had long prepared herself to serve the future mistress with humility. But who could have guessed that Chen Xianglan would appear out of nowhere and steal her place? How could she not resent her!
Distracted, Fang Si was sewing in her room when someone suddenly bumped her arm. The needle pricked her finger, and she cried out in pain, quickly sucking the wound. Guo Mama scolded her, “What’s wrong with you? I called you several times, and you didn’t hear a thing. Taitai will wake from her nap soon—go slice some fresh fruit into small pieces and bring them over.”Seeing Fang Si sitting motionless, looking utterly distraught, Guo Mama asked, "What's the matter with you? You look like you've lost your soul."
Noticing there was no one else in the room, Fang Si grabbed Guo Mama's arm and whispered urgently, "Mother, I... I've made a terrible mistake..." She then recounted the entire incident from beginning to end.
Guo Mama was immediately horrified. Furious, she repeatedly poked Fang Si's forehead and hissed through clenched teeth, "You foolish girl, how could you cause such trouble! And why didn't you speak up sooner after making this mess?"
Fang Si hunched her shoulders and murmured timidly, "P-perhaps Master hasn't guessed it was me who spoke... After all, there's no proof of it."
"You think Master is some dim-witted man?" Guo Mama snapped angrily. "You wretched girl, come with me at once to kneel before Master and beg for mercy. My lifelong dignity is about to be ruined by you!"
Thank you Yueyue Aiyueyue and cbbca for the Peace Talismans, and babylaura for the sachet. Thank you ?﹎DāiSy Xi for the wonderful long review—every word resonated deeply with me. Also, to certain websites: could you please show some restraint and wait at least 24 hours before pirating? Just look at the time I post updates—often in the early hours. Writing isn't easy, and I've never understood the mentality of those who manually copy and share pirated works while rallying others to read them. If you genuinely enjoy someone's work, shouldn't you show the author basic respect? There's no past grievance or recent feud here—must you push people to the brink? At least give hardworking authors a 24-hour grace period. Is that too much to ask?
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