Volume One, Chapter Three: The Scoundrel

Qin Songting let go too quickly, catching Song Xianwan off guard. When she suddenly fell to the ground, she was still a little dazed.

By the time Fuling and Song’s mother helped her up, Qin Songting had already disappeared from sight.

“Miss, are you alright? Did you hurt yourself anywhere?”
“Why don’t we head back to Haitang Court first? We can pay respects to the matriarch a little later.”

Their voices reached Song Xianwan’s ears, but she stared blankly in the direction Qin Songting had left.

In truth, she had seen Qin Songting before—three years ago, on that rainy night at the Liuzhou Buddhist Hall.

The man sat tall on his horse, the edge of his raincoat dripping with water. Through the veil of rain, their eyes met.

The dark fabric of his robe brushed past her, embroidered with silver thread in a cold, gleaming python pattern.

Amidst the mountain of corpses and sea of blood, the white jade pendant at his waist swung, making it hard for her to keep her eyes open.

Yet, it was only a fleeting encounter.

Song Xianwan felt a pang of unease. His words lingered in her ears like a warning.

He recognized her, and perhaps even knew exactly who she was.

“Miss?” Fuling saw Song Xianwan’s dazed expression and thought she might be frightened, so she gently shook her.

Song Xianwan came back to herself, shook her head, and said, “It’s nothing. Go get a hairpin.”

She reached up to touch her disheveled hair, pressing her lips tightly without speaking.

Qin Songting’s reputation was hardly good, yet he was the most outstanding and unmissable figure in the current generation of the Marquis Yongning’s household.

Topping the imperial examination with triple distinctions, ranking among the Nine Ministers, he was the proud prodigy of a noble family.

Yet he was both loved and hated by everyone in the Marquis’s residence.

The chief eunuch in charge of protocol, Wang, regarded Qin Songting as a trusted confidant, so his rise through the ranks was swifter than anyone else’s.

Four promotions in five years, nearly reaching the top tier officialdom.

Despite such a background, his conduct was questionable, causing even the matriarch to lose affection for him.

Before long, Fuling hurried back with a new piece of jewelry and, taking advantage of the empty surroundings, carefully redid Song Xianwan’s hair.

When Song Xianwan arrived at Jinghe Court, she heard crying from inside, faintly accompanied by the matriarch’s voice.

At the door, Nurse Kang smiled as she approached, “Miss, why aren’t you wearing more layers?”

Seeing Song Xianwan’s wet hair, she worried she might be cold and spoke out of concern.

Kang took Song Xianwan’s hand and led her inside, teasing, “They’ve been crying for nearly half an hour. The matriarch is surely waiting for you to comfort her.”

After Kang released her hand, Song Xianwan walked forward and gracefully bowed to the person seated in the main chair.

“Ah Wan has come. Come sit beside your grandmother.”

The matriarch reached out her hand, inviting her to sit nearby, a gesture naturally witnessed by Qin Siyu, who twisted the handkerchief in her grasp, plotting quietly.

“You just fell into the water yesterday, and today you come to pay respects to grandmother? Such filial piety,” Qin Siyu said before Song Xianwan could even sit.

Her words implied that Song Xianwan, fearing slander upon arrival at Jinghe Court, had nonetheless come eagerly.

Hearing this, Song Xianwan glanced sideways at Qin Siyu before replying, “Grandmother, it’s all my fault. Yesterday I caused Sixth Sister to fall into the water with me.”

“I feel truly guilty and had intended to send some tonic to Sixth Sister, but…”

Song Xianwan raised her hand to cover her face with the handkerchief, sobbing softly, unsure how to continue.

The matriarch frowned slightly, “But what?”

Before she could finish, Fuling knelt down, “Miss, please tell the matriarch.”

“Fuling, grandmother is still recuperating, your words… cough, cough,” Song Xianwan’s words halted, followed by a fit of coughing. Fuling’s eyes reddened, and just as she was about to speak, Song Xianwan staggered, as if about to faint.

“Grandmother, since coming to the Marquis’s residence, Miss has lived quietly in Haitang Court, but the steward always withholds our food and clothing allowances.”

“Miss never wanted to trouble you and never complained.”

At this, Fuling wiped her tears, “If Miss hadn’t wanted to send gifts to Sixth Miss, we wouldn’t have known. Even the medicine Miss uses daily is the cheapest.”

When Fuling finished, Song Xianwan knelt down alongside her, “Grandmother, don’t listen to Fuling’s nonsense. It’s not true.”

The matriarch, born into the An Ding Marquis family, had learned household management from childhood.

After decades of trials and tribulations, could she not discern the truth in Fuling’s words?

“I took her in with good intentions, letting her manage the household. Who would have thought she couldn’t tolerate others.”

After saying this, the matriarch shot a cold glance at Qin Siyu, “Didn’t you say your mother sent tonic to your cousin this morning?”

“Grandmother…”

Qin Siyu was still stunned when Song Xianwan turned the tables.

“My mother did send tonic today, but perhaps it hadn’t arrived yet when I came to pay respects.”

She quickly rose and knelt, defending Gu Shuya’s honor.

The matriarch had two sons and a daughter; the eldest son died early, leaving only Qin Songting.

Another son was Fourth Master Qin Yunxuan, often away on business, rarely home. The daughter, naturally, was raised close by—Song Xianwan’s mother, Qin Shuyi.

The remaining Second and Fifth Masters were born to concubines but were now registered under the matriarch’s name, considered legitimate sons.

Fifth Madam Gu Shuya was the matriarch’s least favored, seen as overly calculating and social-climbing.

But the Second Madam was chronically ill, and Fourth Madam disliked managing household affairs, leaving Gu Shuya as the only one capable.

Over the years, the matriarch remembered her good deeds but could never let go of old grievances.

She blamed all the grudges and disputes on Song Xianwan.

“Don’t defend your mother. Nurse Kang, summon Fifth Madam. I want to question her properly.”

“Send someone to Haitang Court to fetch the charcoal brazier and medicines Miss uses,” the matriarch ordered, slamming the table and sneering.

Song Xianwan lowered her head silently; she had already decided how to act before coming.

Gu Shuya now regarded her as a thorn in her side, a piece of flesh to be cut away.

A fallout between them was inevitable; better to put everything out in the open.

If anything were to happen to Song Xianwan in the future, others would suspect Gu Shuya’s doing.

With caution, Gu Shuya would have to weigh the consequences carefully before making a move.

“Ah Wan, rise.”

The matriarch raised her hand, beckoning Song Xianwan to stand.

Song Xianwan stepped forward and took the matriarch’s hand, seeing a trace of tenderness in her eyes.

“Your mother has suffered much, and so have you.”

“Grandmother, Ah Wan is not suffering. With you here, how could I suffer?”

Song Xianwan had a cold-hearted father, a scheming stepmother, and two brothers and sisters eyeing her jealously.

Only the matriarch treated her purely and kindly.

“Sorry for coming at an inconvenient time and disturbing the bond between you and your younger cousin,”

The curtain fluttered slightly as Song Xianwan heard the clinking of jade as someone entered.

Qin Songting walked in, looking at Song Xianwan with a click of his tongue. “I see your face, cousin. Maybe you could put on a play and even bring out a star.”

His mocking words naturally displeased the matriarch.

She glared at Qin Songting and cursed him an insolent scoundrel.

Song Xianwan stood quietly beside the matriarch, quietly meeting Qin Songting’s gaze.

He chuckled softly, hand resting on the curved dagger at his waist, full of amusement.