Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

When Song Yunzhi opened his eyes again, it was the dead of night.

The demoness was gone; only A Jin remained, guarding his bedside. A solid wall of flesh blocked nearly all the light in the room. He sat with his arms crossed, nodding off.

Song Yunzhi reached for his sword.

But having endured intense pain, his body was weak. He failed to grasp the sword, and the noise startled A Jin. Seeing him awake, A Jin wiped his face and hurriedly handed him a cold sweet cake from the bedside. "The lady said cold sweet cake has a special flavor," he said.

Memories of the earlier humiliation rushed back.

This was likely the first time in Song Yunzhi's life that he harbored such hatred for someone—and that someone was a young lady.

He wished he could flay her alive.

A Jin was drowsy and yawned. "Since you've woken, young master, I'll go rest too." He rose, massaged his aching legs, supported his waist, and headed to the side room. "After eating the sweet cake, please get some rest..."

As he left, the lamp by the bed was fully exposed, its light piercing Song Yunzhi’s eyes like blades, casting his face pale as snow.

The night was long, and the young master felt no sleepiness. Battling the stillness of the dark hours for a long while, he finally picked up the cold, hardened sweet cake and tore it apart bite by bite.

What he endured today—one day, he vowed—he would repay the demoness twice over.

—

Early the next morning, Qian Tong asked A Jin, “Did he eat the sweet cake?”

A Jin nodded. “Yes. I saw the young master finish it entirely—nothing left.”

It was unclear whether the lesson from last night had taught him anything. Today, the Cui and Lan families were arranging a betrothal. Qian Tong wanted to join the festivities and thought it a perfect chance to take him out for some experience. “Send the newly made clothes over. Let him freshen up. We’ll set out soon.”

Song Yunzhi had dozed fitfully half the night but had stayed awake the latter half, sitting alone until dawn. Fortunately, his youth kept his spirit intact.

The first rays of morning light filtered in. A Jin carried a large bucket of water to the bathing room, pouring it into the tub. Coming out, he said, “Please, Young Master Song, bathe.”

Song Yunzhi didn’t even lift his eyelids.

Seeing no movement, A Jin rubbed his hands and stepped forward. “May I assist you with your clothes, Young Master?”

“Step back!” came a cold, commanding rebuke, full of force. A Jin instinctively stopped, gazing at the disheveled youth sitting on the couch. His heart trembled; the young master’s gaze was truly piercing.

In terms of presence, this young master far outshone the young lord of the Lan family.

But sulking like this only harmed himself. A Jin urged, “Young Master Song, you should wash. You haven’t changed clothes in two days; you smell. The lady won’t want to take you out like this.”

The heir of the Marquis of Changping had once lived a life of utmost privilege.

Before sixteen, his clothes never bore dust; more than ten servants and maids attended him. He bathed morning and night, his garments perfumed thrice.

Even when he went to the army, covered in blood and grime, in everyone’s eyes he remained like pure snow atop a mountain—pure, shining, and untarnished.

Never once was he thought to stink.

Yet compared with the humiliation of last night, this was nothing. The youth closed his eyes, rose, and went to the bathing room.

A Jin sighed in relief and handed him a set of fine silk robes. “Young Master Song, change into these after your bath.”

The young master shot a cold glance sideways.

—

A Jin was used to the cold looks by now, and he found that an angry Song Yunzhi was quite handsome. He smiled warmly and held out the robes again. “We can’t have all this washing go to waste.”

Song Yunzhi didn’t look back, snatched the clothes, and entered the bathing room.

—

After bathing, Song Yunzhi donned the newly made long robe. The fabric was top-quality Song brocade, rivaling the material worn by the demoness the day they first met. The tailoring fit perfectly, as if custom-made for him.

The noble young master had worn all sorts of fine silks before, so the robe itself was nothing remarkable to him. But to others, it was different.

The moment A Jin saw him emerge, his mouth dropped open, eyes widening in admiration. Though lacking literary flair, a phrase came to mind: “A precious gem uncovered.”

Once cleaned, a precious gem would look just like this young master.

A Jin started to step outside but hesitated, eyes still fixed on him. “Young Master Song, wait a moment—I’ll inform the lady.”

Turning, he met Qian Tong standing at the door, who had arrived unnoticed.

Today, she wore no hairpin, her hair flowing down to her waist. She donned a soft, green silk robe embroidered with autumn chrysanthemums. The delicate fabric billowed like mist, the loose ribbons catching the light as she moved—ethereal, dreamlike.

Were they not a perfect pair, like the golden boy and jade girl?

A Jin’s excitement was hard to conceal. “Seventh Lady, the young master has just changed clothes...”

She saw.

Inside, the handsome young master also watched her.

Bathed in morning light, brilliance shone between them. He stood in shadow, cold and icy, while the young lady in the sun’s rays had bright, dazzling eyes.

Song Yunzhi’s expression was indifferent as he regarded her victorious approach. She feigned concern. “Have you eaten breakfast yet?”

In daylight, the cold light on her face vanished. Her expression returned to innocence and warmth, as if the ruthless person who dealt him such blows last night was a stranger.

He was about to turn away when she commanded, “No anger, no scowling, no ignoring me!”

Song Yunzhi’s eyelids twitched. The pain from last night was vivid; her malice still lingered. Silently reminding himself to keep the greater good in mind, he tensed but refrained from turning his back on her.

That was already quite an effort. Qian Tong did not expect him to smile at her. With a slap and a sweet cake, she said, “You wanted to see those account books from last night, right? After breakfast, I’ll take you to collect the debts.”

The young master’s expression finally softened.

She was drawing ever closer to her own death.

—

In the full bloom of spring, Qian Tong took the new young master to the Cui family.

Upon arrival, she declared herself as the Cui family’s senior lady at the gate—the eldest mistress of the Cui family and second wife of the Qian family’s second branch. The Qian family’s legitimate eldest daughter.

Among the Four Great Families, only the Park family was dominant; the other three constantly vied for power. Not only did the heads of families feud fiercely, but their servants and retainers guarded their own interests and watched each other warily.

When the gatekeeper saw Qian Tong, he was on edge and refused to let them in.

The previous day, the family head and his wife had early paid respects to the magistrate. The two families met amicably and finally settled the betrothal, ending a two-year dispute, with the Cui family securing the match.

Seizing the momentum, the family head’s wife hosted a betrothal banquet today, inviting the magistrate’s wife, the young lord, and many friends to celebrate at their residence.

There were many guests—but none from the Qian family.

At this moment, Qian Tong arrived. Was she not there to cause trouble?

The gatekeeper secretly sent word to the family head’s wife, while outwardly maintaining politeness to steady Qian Tong. "Seventh Lady, please wait. The residence is crowded; the senior mistress is busy. I will send word inside first."

While waiting, the servant’s gaze fell on the youth behind her.

Where had such a handsome young master come from? He was like a clearing after the rain—tall and upright like a pine in snow, commanding presence impossible to ignore. They wondered why they had never noticed him before.

When the message arrived, it was a maid named Peony from the side of the sixth mistress of the Cui family who came out. Joyous from the festivities, her steps were light and her face flushed with spring colors. She smiled and said, “I heard the Seventh Lady had come, but I didn’t believe it. And here you are... Our mistress was just thinking of you, worried you might be upset and harbor resentment, about to pay a visit to apologize. Now that you’ve come, you’ve saved her the trip. Please, come in!”

Such smugness was not new to Qian Tong; she ignored the sarcasm. “Just passing by, I stopped to see the eldest sister.”

“The senior mistress...” Peony’s expression wavered, a hint of disdain flashing in her eyes. “She’s frail. A recent late spring cold has her bedridden. Since Seventh Lady has come, no rush. Would you like to have some wedding wine in the courtyard first?”

Qian Tong’s purpose was precisely that cup of wedding wine. She replied, “Sorry to disturb.”

Though the Cui family’s betrothal banquet had dozens of seats—all fully occupied—the guests had received invitations with assigned seats. Qian Tong came uninvited and thus had no place.

Peony led her to a spot under everyone’s watchful eyes and deliberately left her standing there. “Seventh Lady, please wait. I will ask the mistress to add a seat for you.”

The Cui family had invited a troupe to enliven the betrothal.

Coincidentally, the stage was right beside Qian Tong. The eyes that had been watching the performance now all focused on her—and the youth by her side.

“Am I seeing things? Is that really Seventh Lady Qian?” a woman nearby suddenly whispered. The magistrate’s wife, who had been listening to Mistress Cui’s tea tasting, looked up at the remark.

Yes, it was the Qian family’s Seventh Lady.

She had seen her two days ago at the Qian residence and thought the Qian family would be allied through marriage with the magistrate’s household. But at the last moment, the Qian family withdrew, replaced by the Cui family.

She had inquired and learned this was the Seventh Lady Qian’s doing.

Likely, she resented the incident in the rear household where someone had died. The Seventh Lady was younger in appearance than the sixth mistress of the Cui family, but now that she saw her again, she seemed far too young. Who knew what was gained or lost?

“Who is that?” the magistrate’s wife asked Mistress Cui, noticing the youth beside her.

The young lord of the Lan family, seated to her left, had long been staring, neck craned, fixated on the pair standing in the sun.

Mistress Cui and the sixth mistress exchanged puzzled glances. They did not recognize the young man. “Honestly, I don’t know,” Mistress Cui replied promptly.

She quickly sent someone to inquire if the Qian family had recently taken in a new retainer.

Perhaps they truly came to cause trouble.

The banquet hosts sat in their seats, delaying sending anyone to entertain them. Thus, Qian Tong and the youth beside her became a new spectacle on the stage.

Under all these gazes, Qian Tong tilted her head slightly and whispered to the young master she had dragged into this shared ordeal, “Don’t like being watched?”

The youth glanced sideways at her.

Qian Tong leaned in; he was so tall her head reached just beneath his chin. She whispered softly, “There will be many more occasions like this. You must learn to adapt. Don’t be afraid. Follow me—I’ll show you the world.”