Xia Ling tiptoed over, following the direction of the crying, and circled around to the window.
The window was half-closed, leaving a wide crack through which the afternoon light spilled out.
Xia Ling crouched down and quietly peeked inside.
The scene inside the room left her stunned.
Song Youyi stood by the bed, clutching a pile of crumpled clothes in her arms.
Her pale, beautiful face was still streaked with tears, her eyes red-rimmed, her nose flushed—she had clearly just been crying.
But her lips were slightly curled upward, the smile forming a eerie contrast with her swollen eyes.
Xia Ling’s gaze fell on the clothes in her arms.
Song Youyi was pressing a pair of pants against her face, slowly rubbing them.
She wiped from her forehead to her nose bridge, from her nose bridge to the corners of her mouth.
Her lips parted slightly as she took a soft sniff, then pursed them again, as if savoring some kind of taste.
A loud buzz went off in Xia Ling’s head, and a blush rushed to her pretty face.
‘As expected, when the Second Young Lady is alone with the Young Master, she’s up to no good. I should warn the Young Master to be careful of her!’
‘In this world, the hardest thieves to guard against are the ones within the house!’
But why was she wiping her face with the Young Master’s pants? What was going on?
She should leave, pretend she hadn’t seen anything, but her feet felt nailed to the ground, unable to move.
She heightened her vigilance and carefully observed the situation inside the room.
Not that she wanted to watch—it was for the Young Master’s safety!
She had always been loyal to her Young Master, understanding the principle of not overstepping her bounds; otherwise, she wouldn’t have stayed by his side for so long, earning his deep trust.
If it weren’t for the Second Young Lady’s matter, she would never have resorted to such spying!
Xia Ling comforted herself with these thoughts.
Inside the room, Song Ning let out a sigh.
He was leaning against the headboard, the blanket pulled up to his waist, his face full of helplessness and guilt.
“Sigh, I’ve already apologized, Youyi.”
In all his life, he had never spoken a harsh word to Song Youyi—this was the first time.
Unfortunately, now he was not only blind but also unable to get out of bed, so he could only hope Youyi would leave soon.
Song Youyi took a deep breath, shoved the pants deeper into her arms, and narrowed her beautiful eyes like a satisfied cat.
The corners of her mouth lifted slightly, her mood cheerful, her harvest abundant.
“Since big brother has sincerely apologized.” Her voice was soft and sticky, carrying a coquettish tone.
“As long as you never say such hurtful words again, I’ll forgive you.”
She moved her lotus steps, silently gliding to Song Ning’s side, bent down, and leaned in closer.
“Big brother, you’re not well, and Qi Chuyao is like that.” She bit her red lips, her voice dropping a notch.
“I was thinking…”
Her gaze fell on his face, on his white eyes that couldn’t see anything, on his slightly pursed lips.
Her heartbeat quickened, and her throat rolled slightly.
“I’d take care of you for a lifetime.”
That was Song Youyi’s plan.
She planned to stay by her big brother’s side, supporting each other, for the rest of their lives.
The person most suited to marry big brother was clearly the one who had been by his side since childhood—how could it be Qi Chuyao?
What was so good about that woman? Arrogant, rude, ungrateful, uneducated—she didn’t deserve big brother.
In the future, she would keep him imprisoned in the Song Mansion, imprisoned by her side.
Not imprisonment, she corrected herself in her mind: it was care, it was protection.
Song Ning heard these words and sighed again.
He leaned against the headboard, tilted his face up, gazing at the eternal darkness above, and tapped his fingers lightly on his knees.
“Qi Chuyao,” he murmured, laughing despite his irritation.
“I wonder what will become of her. I think she’s just too playful. If she went out to train for a few years, she might improve.”
From his conversations with Qi Chuyao, he could tell that although her mother-in-law was strict with her and she worked hard at martial arts, she had never been out to do anything real and was ignorant of worldly affairs.
Her nature wasn’t actually bad, as he could tell from what she said when she was drunk that day.
Except for being a bit bad in bed, her heart was still kind.
Song Youyi’s face instantly darkened, and that smile at the corners of her mouth vanished.
“Big brother is so good to Qi Chuyao.” Her voice was sour.
“So good.”
Jealousy coiled like a snake, slithering through her heart.
Song Youyi bit her lips and suppressed that surging emotion.
She couldn’t lose her temper, couldn’t show a crack, couldn’t let her big brother sense her feelings.
To earn big brother’s trust, complete trust, to become the obedient, sickly younger sister in his eyes, so she could do some “bad things.”
She changed the subject, resorting to her usual trick, her voice soft and sticky:
“Big brother, these clothes are new. Put them on and show me.”
With that, she took out the new clothes from the bundle, unfolded them one by one, and laid them out neatly on Song Ning’s bed.
Song Ning’s heart stirred.
He reached out and touched the fabric of the new clothes, pausing slightly.
Wasn’t this the perfect opportunity? He could change clothes and avoid the awkwardness.
He spoke righteously:
“Just leave the clothes there. I’ll put them on myself. You go out, and I’ll call you when I’m done.”
She couldn’t say anything this time, right? Changing clothes—she wouldn’t stay to watch that.
He could finally put on the pants and tidy everything up.
Song Youyi gave a light snort and complained coquettishly:
“Big brother, you’re so conceited, acting like I want to watch! I’m not looking!”
She turned around, her back to him, her skirt swishing as it stirred up a breeze.
“I’m going out,” she said, already taking a step.
“Call me when you’re done. If the size isn’t right, I’ll have them remade!”
She walked toward the door with small steps, casting a sidelong glance at the window.
A pink figure quickly ducked down.
Song Youyi’s beautiful eyes narrowed slightly. She was wearing pink clothes, with what seemed like a few small flowers in her hair.
That figure…
She didn’t stop.
The door was opened and then closed heavily.
A loud bang sounded as the door panel hit the frame.
Song Ning heard the footsteps disappear, heard the door shut, and felt like there was no breath in the room.
He waited a moment longer, pricking up his ears to listen—no footsteps, no breathing, no movement at all.
He let out a breath, collapsing against the headboard like a deflated balloon.
“Whew, finally gone.”
“That was close—almost got found out.”
He threw off the blanket, unashamedly revealing his legs, bent over, and fumbled on the bed.
His movements were quick and nimble; though he couldn’t see, he was already skilled at feeling for clothes.
Where Song Ning couldn’t see, a pair of eyes were still watching him.
Song Youyi held her breath, her pretty face slightly flushed, leaning against the door, staring intently at Song Ning’s body.
Her gaze slid from his face to his neck, from his neck to his shoulders, from his shoulders to his waist, from his waist to…
Her pupils dilated slightly, her lips parting a little.
Even though she had lived with Song Ning for so long, this was the first time Song Youyi had seen it.
She had never known that her big brother’s body was like this.
She wished she could draw the scene before her, using the finest paper and ink, tracing every line and stroke, then hiding it in a chest, alongside those old clothes.
Inside the room, Xia Ling crouched under the window, her heart pounding like a drum.
Her back pressed against the wall, her fingers gripping her skirt, her palms slick with sweat. Her mind was in chaos, thoughts clashing.
Had the Second Young Lady not seen her? It didn’t seem like she had come out.
She had only glanced—maybe she hadn’t seen clearly, maybe she thought it was a stray cat, maybe…
She dared not think further.
If the Second Young Lady had seen her, what would happen? Would she get angry? Would she drive her away? Would she tell the Young Master?
Countless possibilities flashed through her mind, each one more terrifying than the last.
She clenched her teeth, lost in wild thoughts as she crouched there, curling up, praying that the Second Young Lady hadn’t seen her, praying that this would all end soon.
Even worse, the Second Young Lady never came out at all!