Blossom

Song Han was helped to the side, changed into fresh clothes, and taken to his study next door.

The study was silent.

Wuyi was assisting Song Mo in practicing calligraphy.

Song Han lifted his head, his peripheral glance catching the full-length dressing mirror.

In the mirror, his attire was neat and tidy. Apart from a slightly pale complexion and a somewhat dispirited expression, he looked no different than usual.

Only then did he truly grasp the meaning of "leaving no traces."

If he had died just now, would he have appeared as if he had accidentally drowned?

Song Han felt a chill run through his body, his teeth chattering uncontrollably. Yet, he still threw himself toward Song Mo: "Brother, brother, this wasn’t your idea, was it? You just wanted to scare me, right?" He began to sob. "It’s not that I didn’t want to tell you, but I was afraid. I feared you’d resent Father even more if you knew... I was caught in the middle, torn between both sides... I didn’t mean to... Otherwise, I wouldn’t have told you about Father and Mother’s arguments... Several times I wanted to tell you, but you were either with Gu Yu or at the palace. I never had the chance... I could only hope you’d find out sooner... I never expected you actually did... And then I didn’t know how to tell you..."

Song Mo acted as though he hadn’t heard a word, not even lifting his head as Song Han poured out his grievances. He calmly finished the last stroke of his calligraphy, examined it for a long moment, then set down the brush. Taking the handkerchief Wuyi handed him, he wiped his hands before finally looking up with a smile. "You’re here. Sit down and talk."

As if the earlier torture had been nothing but a dream.

Song Han couldn’t stop trembling.

He had seen this side of Song Mo before—polite yet distant, exchanging pleasantries with those he cared nothing about. But he had never imagined that one day, he himself would become one of those people.

Or perhaps he had imagined it.

When Jiang Yan was first brought back, he had thought about it.

But when he saw that Song Mo didn’t pursue the matter, he deceived himself into not dwelling on it further.

Song Han stood frozen before the desk.

Lu Ming respectfully guided him to sit on a Grand Preceptor’s chair not far from Song Mo, his face devoid of the cold cruelty he had shown during the interrogation, now appearing as nothing more than a humble servant.

Hypocrite!

Utterly false!

All of them were hypocrites!

Song Han stared at his face, feeling as though a fire burned in his chest, threatening to burst out.

But he didn’t dare.

The suffocating pain was still fresh in his memory.

The man before him, outwardly courteous and gentle, was at his core ruthless and merciless—no longer the doting elder brother he once knew.

His legs weak, Song Han sat there limply.

Wuyi offered him a cup of hot tea.

He murmured a "thank you," only to be met with Song Mo’s cold, disdainful smirk.

In the past, the second young master of the Duke of England's Mansion had been a figure of great prestige. He would never have thanked a servant—merely a satisfied smile directed at those who served him would have left them overwhelmed with honor. And Song Han had understood this well from a young age, carrying himself proudly like a peacock, rarely offering thanks to anyone.

But now, stripped of his status as the Duke’s second son, he was nothing more than an ordinary, insignificant man.

To Song Mo, he was nothing but repulsive.How could I have been so blind back then, misjudging Father... and him?

Song Mo sneered, "Who would have thought the day would come when our Second Master Song would lower his head. If you knew it would come to this, why did you act that way? Even if you're Li Tiaoniang's son, you were just a swaddled infant then. How could an adult's mistakes be your fault? Never mind that you share the Song family blood—even if Father had brought you in from outside just to spite Mother, after being my brother for over a decade, I'd still have treated you as my own flesh and blood. Yet you threw away that bond, only realizing how privileged and respected your former life was after being cast into the dirt."

His voice was like mountain spring water—clear yet chilling.

Song Han hung his head, his face alternating between red and pale.

If he had told the truth back then, would Song Mo really have still treated him as a brother?

He couldn't believe it, yet his fortress-like defenses wavered slightly against his will.

But Song Mo wanted no more of this conversation.

It only reminded him of his own foolishness!

Pushing aside all past grievances, he asked Song Han again, "What did Father and Mother argue about?"

Song Han looked up earnestly at Song Mo and said with sincerity, "I truly don't know. I understand you don't believe me, but I really don't. Should I make something up to deceive you?"

"During those days, Mother was unwell, always listless. You were in Liaodong, and I was terribly worried. Apart from attending to Mother's medicine daily, I would recite the Lotus Sutra before the Bodhisattva to pray for her recovery."

"Mother was very pleased and even praised me in front of Father for being filial and sensible."

"Feeling proud, I wanted to impress Father and insisted on preparing Mother's medicine myself. Mother refused, fearing I might burn myself. But Father said I was growing up and learning to care for others, which was good, and had Zhu Jun accompany me to brew the medicine."

"Then one day, Mother's kitten Xiao Bao kept meowing around me, causing me to knock over the medicine bowl."

"Zhu Jun and the others laughed and comforted me, saying it was fine, and quickly prepared another dose on the stove."

"Furious, I poured the remaining medicine down Xiao Bao's throat."

"After drinking it, Xiao Bao never got up again."

"I was terrified."

"Xing Fang said it was because I forced the medicine on Xiao Bao."

"Afraid Mother would scold me, and knowing she had been bedridden and hadn't had time to play with Xiao Bao and Da Bao, I begged Xing Fang to help me hide Xiao Bao's body. I planned to ask Fifth Uncle to find me an identical kitten."

"Xing Fang agreed."

"But I remained uneasy, fearing Mother would notice Xiao Bao was missing."

"So I went to look for Xing Fang."

"Only to see her secretly burying the dregs of Mother's medicine."

"I found it strange. Even if the dregs needed burying, shouldn't Qing Li or Zhu Jun be doing it? Why was Xing Fang handling it?"

"So every day, I secretly took a handful of the dregs and sprinkled them in the pot of the Black Chrysanthemum in Mother's room."

"Before long, the chrysanthemum withered and died."

"I ran to tell Father."

"But he was admiring chrysanthemums with Mother on the veranda."

"Not wanting to upset Mother, I didn't dare tell her, planning to inform Father quietly later.""But Mother kept holding my hand, asking if I was cold. I was afraid I might accidentally let something slip, so I ran off to help Nanny Xie make osmanthus cakes.

"You know what happened after that.

"When I came back, Father and Mother were both stern-faced, ignoring each other. Mother had Li Bai take me to change clothes, and by the time I returned, they were already arguing. Nanny Xie carried me under the grape trellis before I could hear what they were fighting about. Later, Li Bai dragged me back to my room. By the time Qing Li came to fetch me, Mother was already in a bad state, vomiting blood by the bedside. Father stepped forward, but Mother pushed him away..."

Song Mo's face remained calm, but his whitened fingertips gripping the teacup betrayed his emotions.

He glanced at Song Han lightly and said softly, "Song Han, you're still lying! Do you think I'm stupid? That I wouldn’t dare do anything to you, so you can act so recklessly?"

That gentle yet utterly emotionless voice made Song Han's hair stand on end.

"I knew you wouldn’t believe me," he said dejectedly, his dry voice betraying his tension.

Song Mo smiled faintly at him, stood up, and in a flash, his hand clamped around Song Han’s throat.

"You might not know this yet," he said slowly, his grip tightening like iron, "but I don’t mind doing this myself at all."

Song Han’s face immediately turned red.

He desperately tried to pry Song Mo’s hand away.

But how could he match Song Mo’s strength?

Once again, Song Han tasted the agony of suffocation.

He glared at Song Mo with wide eyes.

Song Mo sneered.

A commotion erupted outside the door.

Song Han gurgled incoherently.

Song Mo leisurely tightened his grip.

From outside came Song Yichun’s furious roar: "This is outrageous! This is the Duke of England's Mansion, and the Hall of Cultivating Will is part of it. You’re guards of the Hall, but also guards of my mansion! How dare you block me? Don’t blame me for what happens next!"

Song Han’s spirits lifted.

The upper courtyard couldn’t possibly be without Father’s men. By interrogating him here, Song Mo had walked right into a trap!

As long as he stayed alive until Father arrived, Song Mo could do nothing to him.

A glint of triumph flashed in Song Han’s eyes.

Song Mo laughed darkly.

Staring into Song Han’s eyes, he calmly ordered Lu Ming, "Let the Duke in. I want him to see with his own eyes how I strangle his son to death!"

Lu Ming expressionlessly acknowledged the order and left the inner chamber.

Song Han paled in horror.

Song Mo’s grip tightened further.

Song Han struggled with all his might, kicking and flailing.

But Song Mo only looked at him with contempt, as if he were a cockroach that could be crushed at any moment.

Song Yichun barged in, flanked by Chang Guard and others.

The scene inside the room stunned him into silence.

Chang Guard and the others were equally dumbfounded.

Song Mo leaned close to Song Han and whispered, "I’ll ask you one last time—what did Father and Mother say when they were arguing?"

Song Han’s eyes were bloodshot, his head immobilized, pitifully glancing at Song Yichun in silent plea for help.

Song Yichun snapped out of his daze and strode toward Song Mo. "What are you doing? Are you trying to murder your own brother?""Yes!" Song Mo turned his head, giving Song Yichun a provocative smile. "Father, you're mistaken. You should be asking if I intend to murder my own younger brother!"

Song Yichun's steps faltered.

Song Mo's grip suddenly tightened.

Unable to breathe, Song Han stuck out his tongue.

Song Yichun roared in fury, "Stop! You unfilial wretch! This time, even if I have to take this dispute before the Emperor, I will strip you of your heir position!"

"Oh?" Song Mo raised an eyebrow at Song Yichun and released his grip.

Song Han clutched his throat and collapsed to the floor.

Song Mo planted his foot on Song Han's head. "Father, I think it's best you stay out of matters between us brothers." As he spoke, the clang of metal echoed through the room, and shadowy figures emerged both inside and outside, surrounding Song Yichun and his men.

Song Yichun exclaimed in shock and anger, "What do you think you're doing?"

Chang Guard and Lu Ming swiftly drew their swords, standing ready for confrontation.

The room was thick with tension, the oppressive atmosphere like the calm before a storm.