Chapter 52: A Frozen Figure

Wu Ruozhao frowned slightly and grabbed Song Ning’s arm, her fingers tightening as she pulled him half a step closer to herself.

“Ning’er, come home. Don’t meddle in other people’s business.”

The Qin family’s affairs had stirred up a storm in the city. Whoever got involved would only bring trouble.

She didn’t want her brother to be dragged into such a mess.

Song Ning didn’t pull away, nor did he obey. He tilted his head slightly, his ears turned toward Qin Junyue’s direction, and spoke calmly:

“It’s fine, sis. Let her talk.”

Qin Junyue seized this opportunity and wasn’t about to let go.

She clung tightly to Song Ning’s leg, both arms wrapped around it, her face pressed against his thigh.

Looking up at him, she spoke rapidly, as if afraid she would lose her chance if she slowed down:

“My mother is not an official who embezzled military funds!”

“Our Qin family’s expenses come from the Imperial Court’s salary and our clan’s lands. There was absolutely no need to embezzle! When the Imperial Court tried her, many of the charges were fabricated out of thin air!”

She went on and on, saying that the people who impeached her mother for corruption were themselves sitting on mountains of gold and silver, yet they splashed dirty water on an honest official.

After listening, Song Ning thought for a moment, pursed his lips, and then spoke:

“I understand the gist of it. You don’t know the specifics of the frontline situation either.”

He stretched out his hand, felt the air, and then placed it on top of Qin Junyue’s head, patting it gently, as if soothing a frightened little animal.

“Wait for now.”

As he spoke, he quietly slipped a small token into her hand.

The token wasn’t large. It was made of copper, with the character “Song” carved on the front. It still carried the warmth of his palm.

Qin Junyue took the token instinctively. Her tears were still flowing, but her eyes lit up.

She loosened her grip, knelt on the ground, and stared blankly at Song Ning.

Wu Ruozhao rushed over in a single stride, swift and fierce. She grabbed Qin Junyue by the collar and yanked her up from the ground.

“Who gave you permission to touch our man?” Wu Ruozhao roared, gripping Qin Junyue’s collar.

“Don’t ever touch my brother again, you hear me?!” She stared into Qin Junyue’s eyes for a long moment, then abruptly released her grip and shoved her away.

Qin Junyue staggered back two steps and nearly fell again.

Wu Ruozhao turned around, grabbed Song Ning’s wrist, and dragged him toward the carriage.

Xia Ling quickly pulled aside the carriage curtain.

“Careful, Young Master!” she called out in a low voice, fussing as she helped steady Song Ning.

Song Ning was shoved into the carriage by Wu Ruozhao.

Wu Ruozhao followed him inside and plopped down in a corner, arms crossed, her face dark as iron.

Song Youyi was also pulled in. She wrapped her coat tightly around herself and shrank into the opposite corner, not daring to make a sound.

Xia Ling let the curtain fall. The carriage swayed slightly and began to move forward.

Qin Junyue stood frozen in place, staring at the small token in her hand.

The carriage clattered away, turned a corner, and disappeared at the mouth of the alley.

Inside the carriage, Wu Ruozhao suddenly reached out and smacked Song Ning hard on the head.

“Tch.” Song Ning winced, covering the spot she’d hit.

Wu Ruozhao casually shoved a hand warmer into his hands, then pulled another one from under the seat and handed it to Song Youyi.

“What do you think you’re doing, meddling?” Her voice was laced with anger.

“Is this something you can interfere with? What did you give her?”

She paused, her tone even heavier:

“And men and women should not touch each other when passing objects. In public, you let her hug your leg like that? What kind of behavior is that? It’s a disgrace to your reputation!”

After saying this, she sat in the corner of the carriage, hugging herself in anger. Her usually pretty face was twisted, brows furrowed, lips turned down.

Song Ning rubbed his aching head, held the hand warmer, and smiled softly:

“Saving a life surpasses building a seven-tier pagoda.”

“Their family didn’t deserve to end up like this in the first place.”

Wu Ruozhao snorted coldly and said nothing.

Song Ning felt that his sister was also a kind-hearted person.

Otherwise, she wouldn’t have ignored him slipping that token to Qin Junyue.

Little Song Youyi sat to the side, carefully observing her eldest sister’s expression.

Her gaze darted between Wu Ruozhao and Song Ning. Seeing that the bumps in the road had calmed her eldest sister’s anger somewhat, she grew bolder.

Hugging the hand warmer to her chest, she secretly shifted her bottom, inching bit by bit toward Song Ning.

When she finally reached him, she leaned her whole body against him, soft and boneless, her head tilted to rest on his shoulder. She felt completely at ease.

Even if men and women shouldn’t touch each other, a little sister should be allowed, right?

Song Ning didn’t push her away. He simply shifted slightly to let her lean more comfortably.

Wu Ruozhao turned her head and saw her younger siblings huddled together. The corner of her mouth lifted, and her mood improved significantly.

The carriage rumbled on, passing through street after street.

When they returned to the Song Mansion, Wu Ruozhao called Song Youyi aside.

Song Youyi pouted. She had thought her sister was going to scold her, but instead, her sister asked a bizarre question.

“Do you know what ‘Class Water’ means?” Wu Ruozhao asked suddenly.

Song Youyi was stunned. She blinked, blinked again, then shook her head.

“No, I don’t, big sister.”

———

The cold on the first day had only been needles hidden in the wind.

By the next day, Heaven seemed to have finally run out of patience, and snow poured down in full force.

Feathery flakes drifted down in abundance, as if someone had torn a whole quilt of goose down into pieces among the clouds.

The world between heaven and earth seemed left with only one color— white, white, everything white.

Song Ning, supported by Xia Ling, returned from his mother’s study.

He wore a thick, moon-white cloak with a collar trimmed in gray rabbit fur. The fluffy fur brushed against his chin.

“It’s snowing.”

“Such heavy snow. A good omen.”

Song Ning suddenly stopped, reached out from his sleeve, and held his palm upward, feeling the air.

“It must be beautiful.” He lifted his head, his white eyes turned toward the sky.

Xia Ling, carefully holding his arm, replied with a distracted “Mm-hmm.”

After a few steps, she couldn’t hold back anymore and ventured tentatively:

“Young Master, can I tell you something?”

Song Ning tilted his head in her direction and gave a slight smile:

“What is it? Tell me.”

Xia Ling bit her lip:

“It’s about my sister, Xia Shuang.”

“Can you transfer her to… ah!”

Before she finished, Xia Ling suddenly let out a startled cry.

Song Ning frowned. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

Xia Ling’s eyes went wide, and her fingers trembled slightly:

“Th-there’s a person over there!”

“What person?” Song Ning asked.

Xia Ling swallowed hard:

“S-someone kneeling… covered in snow. Can’t make out the face. A small figure.”

Song Ning’s brow knitted even tighter.

He stepped forward, and Xia Ling quickly followed, helping him walk carefully.

As they got closer, Xia Ling could finally make out the figure.

A small figure was kneeling at the entrance of the Small Courtyard, curled into a ball.

Snow covered its head, its shoulders, even its eyelashes were dotted with tiny ice crystals.

The person almost seemed to merge into the vast white expanse.

“It looks like the eldest young lady of the Qin family.”