It was the second quarter of the hour of the dragon. The weather was clear, not a single cloud in the sky. The heavens were too kind, as if even the gods wanted to prolong this awkward moment a little longer.

…

Xiao Rong had no idea what had happened to Qu Yunmie and the others. He was still reading the letter that had only been delivered to him earlier that morning.

The moment he touched today’s letter, he sensed something was off—it was thicker and heavier than usual. Xiao Rong’s expression tightened and he couldn’t even wait to return to his desk. Standing at the doorway, he tore the letter open in just a few moves. When he saw the opening line—“A-Rong, seeing these words is like seeing your face”—Xiao Rong’s whole body instantly tensed.

…

To be fair, compared to “Rong’er,” the name “A-Rong” was fairly normal. Even if a complete stranger called him that, he wouldn’t have much of a reaction.

Even so, he didn’t know why, seeing Qu Yunmie address him like that made Xiao Rong’s toes curl with embarrassment—he nearly wanted to dig a cellar in his own room to crawl into.

Forcing himself to endure the strong discomfort, he continued reading. He had only read a few lines when a sour voice came from behind him.

“Yoo~ A-Rong, seeing these words is like seeing your face~”

Xiao Rong: “…”

Even if he couldn’t recognize Song Shuo’s voice, he could definitely recognize that wavy tone of his that came out of nowhere.

With a swish, he folded up the letter, turned around with a scowl, and snapped, “Back then I didn’t let you take that military baton, and you’re still feeling regret, aren’t you?”

Song Shuo pouted. “If you didn’t want me to see it, then don’t stand at the door reading it. You’re so impatient, you couldn’t even wait to sit down. I’m telling you, you and the King are getting way too clingy.”

Xiao Rong froze, and then his face darkened. “Say that again?!”

Seeing that Xiao Rong was truly angry, Song Shuo instinctively shrank back, yet still had the nerve to continue. “It’s true! The kind of relationship you two have, for a Lord and his subject, is dangerous!”

As he spoke, Song Shuo stepped up beside Xiao Rong and lowered his voice. “No matter what, he’s still the King. You can get close to him, but not that close. Before being your friend, he is first the man you owe allegiance to. You can’t forget that, and you especially can’t blur that line. Xiao Rong, you’re a smart person—you should see that in this entire royal residence, the only one who can truly be your genuine, pure friend is me.”

Xiao Rong: “…”

If Song Shuo hadn’t said that last line with such seriousness, Xiao Rong might have actually believed he had his best interests in mind.

Xiao Rong’s expression instantly grew weary. He shook off Song Shuo’s restless hand and returned to his seat. After hesitating for a moment, he put the letter away, deciding to read the rest after Song Shuo left.

He had only read two or three lines just now. They were all about reminding him to take care of his health. Qu Yunmie was a very practical man—he never understood what it meant to be indirect. The most important things were always said first, and the rest followed in descending order of importance.

This letter probably didn’t contain any crucial information. It could wait.

Seeing Xiao Rong act this way made Song Shuo even more displeased. It was just a couple of sentences, and Xiao Rong actually got embarrassed? In this residence, Xiao Rong had always been generous. Whether it was state secrets or his future plans, as long as Song Shuo wanted to see them, Xiao Rong never stopped him. If there was an exception, it had to involve the King.

Song Shuo’s small head was full of big doubts. He had seen the letter earlier too—it was just concerned about Xiao Rong’s health and normal greetings. Why did Xiao Rong get so embarrassed?

…

He also knew that Xiao Rong wouldn’t indulge him in everything. In situations like this, even if he rolled on the floor, Xiao Rong wouldn’t pay him any attention. Song Shuo didn’t know the exact reason, but his instincts told him so.

Clicking his tongue in shared disinterest, Song Shuo looked around. It was still early. Being a night owl, he only became energetic after noon. Even if he got up in the morning, he didn’t want to do anything serious.

He dragged a chair over to sit next to Xiao Rong. Though there was plenty of space, Song Shuo insisted on crowding beside him. “Where’s Xiao Yi?”

Xiao Rong suppressed his irritation and replied, “Visiting his teachers.”

After the Thousand Scholars Collection, Xiao Yi had made a name for himself. When Yu Shaoxie was away, he often attended those literary salons and poetry gatherings hosted by the scholars. Though Xiao Yi and Xiao Rong weren’t blood-related, in some ways they were more like real brothers. Xiao Yi had a stubborn and competitive streak—not all scholars were willing to bow to a fourteen-year-old. Some jealous ones even nitpicked his writings, calling him a flowery pillow with nothing inside, accusing him of chasing fame with flashy writing and tearing him apart in critiques. Xiao Yi handled it all calmly by day, but at night he stared at his drafts like a hawk.

After enduring three such nights, he got both his dark circles and his fighting spirit.

He didn’t even need Xiao Rong to step in anymore. He sought out the literary Masters himself. So far, he had taken on three teachers—one he visited daily, and the other two every few days.

Even with this, Xiao Yi still felt it wasn’t enough—he wanted to take on more teachers.

In a feudal society, “Heaven, Earth, Sovereign, Parents, Teacher” was the unchanging hierarchy. Fortunately, the Yong dynasty had always been open-minded. Teachers didn’t cling to students, and students didn’t have to stick to just one teacher. It was an open relationship, and no one insisted that once you had a Master, you couldn’t study under others.

Of course, such teacher-student relationships had both advantages and disadvantages. Teachers didn’t pay overly close attention to students or treat them like their own children. Once the learning ended, it was up to the student to fight for their own future.

This didn’t really apply to Xiao Yi. His brother was Xiao Rong. That alone gave Xiao Yi an advantage over every other child in the country.

Song Shuo didn’t think he was exaggerating at all. Just think about it—there were no sons in the King’s household, the High Chancellor was alone, and the Xiao family had few members. In such a situation, even if Xiao Yi were a complete waste, he could still become one of the top-ranking officials in the Empire. Thankfully he wasn’t a waste.

Song Shuo had already decided that Qu Yunmie would definitely ascend to the throne. He also believed that in the future, he would stand shoulder to shoulder with Xiao Rong. Though not many had seen his talents yet—hmph—they would, eventually.

These thoughts flashed through Song Shuo’s mind in an instant. When he snapped back to reality, he started making small talk with Xiao Rong again. “What about the Old Madam? With Xiao Yi so busy these days, has she caused you any trouble?”

Xiao Rong looked at him expressionlessly. “When it comes to causing me trouble, no one can match you.”

Song Shuo blinked, then proudly lifted his head a little. “I know that. Of course no one can match me. I meant—how has the Old Madam been lately?”

Xiao Rong: “…”

He was completely done. Rubbing his forehead, he said, “She’s doing great. Lately we’ve been short on staff, so the Huichun Hall only opens every other day. Miss Danran has had more free time, so she often goes to chat with my grandmother. The two of them actually get along. My grandmother returns the gesture and now often goes to the back courtyard when she’s free. It’s all women back there, so no one stops her.”

That was what puzzled Xiao Rong the most. When Madam Chen got confused, no one except Xiao Yi could deal with her, but the three women in the back courtyard had never once complained.

Danran and Agusejia didn’t worry Xiao Rong. The former was a chatterbox and a blabbermouth—she and Madam Chen could only mutually torment each other. Agusejia was mentally strong, not easily affected. As for Danran’s mother….

He shook his head. Xiao Rong couldn’t be bothered to deal with it. Since those two hadn’t said anything, there probably wasn’t any real problem.

*

Unlike what Xiao Rong thought, Chen Shi had recently been going to the back courtyard frequently, but she wasn’t there to see Danran — she specifically sought out Sang Yan.

It was probably because Sang Yan’s temperament somewhat resembled that of Chen Shi’s former daughter-in-law. So the moment she saw Sang Yan, Chen Shi treated her as if she were her own daughter-in-law. With the strength she had gained from being well-fed lately, she pulled Sang Yan into her arms and cried over the white strands in her hair with great distress.

While crying, she also said, “Sang Yan, you look older than me now!”

Sang Yan: “…”

All beauties feared aging. Although Sang Yan had long since stopped dressing up or caring about her appearance, that was only what she believed. She hadn’t looked in a mirror in ten years — subconsciously avoiding the sight of her own worn-out self.

Everyone around her accommodated her, never mentioning it. Who would have thought a confused old woman would blurt it out?

That old lady was even unusually strong, which made everyone wonder — wasn’t she a noblewoman? What did she eat to become like this?

…

After much persuasion, Chen Shi finally let go of Sang Yan. Sang Yan was completely unsettled. She immediately ran back into her room and shut the door tightly. If Xiao Rong had seen this scene, he would have dragged his grandmother over to apologize repeatedly. However, Agusejia, seeing Sang Yan’s reaction, thought she had handled it well this time.

Ever since she lost her husband, Sang Yan had developed more and more quirks — one of which was her absolute refusal to be physically touched by anyone. If she had been hugged by any other stranger, she would have lashed out already. This wasn’t Agusejia’s speculation — Sang Yan had once pulled a hairpin from her head and nearly stabbed someone in the throat.

Looking at the dazed Chen Shi, Agusejia started to understand why Sang Yan hadn’t attacked her.

Who would feel threatened by a chubby, kind, and gentle old lady? In Central Plains terms, Chen Shi had a face that looked especially auspicious and resembled that fading image of a mother everyone remembered.

So from that day on, Agusejia encouraged Danran to get close to the Xiao Matriarch — and if she wanted, she could even bring her over.

Agusejia did this in hopes that Chen Shi could serve as a bridge to help ease Sang Yan’s wariness toward people of the Central Plains. So far, the effect has been minimal — whenever Sang Yan heard Chen Shi’s voice, she would immediately hide in her room. If Chen Shi couldn’t find her, she would soon forget about her. Watching how easily Chen Shi forgot and remembered things, Agusejia suddenly felt her hands itch.

…………

 

Edited by: Antiope

 

Support translation: