The Prime Minister’s carriage had just come to a stop in front of the Duke of England’s Residence when United Kingdom Duke Zhang Yunkai, accompanied by his second daughter Zhang Youwei, came out to greet them.
Servants lined the entrance, carriages arriving and departing in turn.
The entire street had been cleared, forbidding idle passersby from approaching, leaving a wide, open road for guests.
Laughter rang out from afar, lively and bright.
United Kingdom Duke Zhang Yunkai didn’t actually need to come out personally to greet Song Jie, but he couldn’t resist his daughter Youwei’s persistent pestering, so he accompanied her, giving Song Jie full honors.
The guests at the gate, seeing the United Kingdom Duke personally come out to welcome someone, all turned to look at the carriage that had just come to a halt.
The carriage curtain lifted, and a pale hand gripped the attendant’s arm.
Song Jie emerged, his face cold as a glacier, sharp brows pressing over a pair of eyes utterly devoid of warmth.
The sunlight made him frown slightly, making him seem even more unapproachable.
Though it was the height of summer, he wore a thick robe, his face tinged with unhealthy pallor.
As he descended, the heat around seemed to chill by several degrees.
“Song Prime Minister is still ill—why trouble yourself to come?”
Zhang Yunkai greeted him with a smile, his words polite, though inwardly pleased.
Song Jie hadn’t left his manor for several days due to illness, and yet today he’d come in person to offer birthday congratulations—this was giving him great face.
Song Jie looked at him, and at last a hint of a smile touched his cold eyes.
“It’s United Kingdom Duke’s sixty-sixth birthday, even His Majesty specially instructed the Fourth Prince to bring a gift. How could I not come to offer my congratulations?”
Zhang Yunkai was delighted by the flattery, bursting into hearty laughter.
Beside him, Zhang Youwei stared unabashedly at Song Jie’s face.
When she saw him cough softly, she worriedly asked, “Song Prime Minister, are you feeling any better?”
Song Jie merely gave a perfunctory “Mm” in reply.
But Zhang Youwei was already satisfied, pursing her lips into a smile, then hurriedly urging her father, “It’s too hot out here. Song Prime Minister is still recovering—Father, please invite him inside to rest.”
Zhang Yunkai glanced helplessly at his daughter.
Even a blind man could see her infatuation with Song Jie—how could he not know?
He had admonished her before: Song Jie’s background, health, and temperament were all unsuitable for marriage.
But Youwei had been spoiled; she’d even threatened to starve herself unless she could marry Song Jie.
In the end, he could only turn a blind eye and wait for her to hit a wall herself, to see that Song Jie was as cold as a poisonous snake, impossible to warm.
“Just talking away here,” Zhang Yunkai said with a laugh, inviting Song Jie inside. Youwei personally arranged Song Jie’s seat, tea, and refreshments—all prepared especially for him.
But Song Jie didn’t move, his voice slightly hoarse.
“I’m still unwell. I won’t go in.”
He dispensed with further pleasantries, simply instructing Cang Shu to send in a heavy gift before preparing to leave.
“Song Prime Minister, why are you leaving already?”
Zhang Youwei grew anxious, tugging her father’s arm, hoping he’d persuade Song Jie to stay.
She only saw him once every ten days or so, and had prepared herself to confess her feelings today…
Zhang Yunkai was about to say a few words to keep him, when two carriages—one after the other—pulled up beside Song Jie’s carriage, interrupting him.
The first was the Bo Yibo’s carriage, from which Pei Shilin helped the Pei Eldest Lady, Mother Li Huixian, down.
But the carriage behind was brand new, drawn by three black horses in a row, their high-pitched neighs ringing out.
The carriage curtain was adorned with tinkling ornaments, even more luxurious than the Prime Minister’s carriage.
Whose family was this?
Zhang Youwei looked over as well, just in time to see Pei Shilin walk to the side of the ornate carriage and extend his hand to the person inside.
Two young maids, dressed in gold and silver, lifted the curtain from both sides.
A cool breeze scented with fragrance drifted out from the carriage, chilling the air and carrying a scent that made Song Jie cough twice and frown.
This fragrance…
Song Jie looked over at the carriage, just as a face emerged from within.
In the blazing sun, her face was slightly bowed, only her brows and eyes illuminated.
Her brows were soft and feathery, her thick lashes shading eyes dappled with light.
She frowned in displeasure and said, “It’s so hot.”
That voice, that manner, made Song Jie’s mind waver.
Though she hadn’t dressed up as Jia Ning today, and though the scent made it clear she was Xie Yushu, his heart still skipped when he saw that face—he couldn’t look away.
So this was how radiant that face was in daylight, as if he’d glimpsed an even more dazzling Jia Ning…
“That’s Jia…”
Zhang Youwei stepped forward in surprise, staring at that face, nearly blurting out the name.
But the person stepped down from the carriage, lifting her eyes to meet hers.
A small mole on the tip of her nose, delicate lips…
It jolted her awake.
Not Jia Ning—this was Xie Yushu!
So lively.
Xie Yushu took Pei Shilin’s hand, looking at the lively gate of the Duke of England’s Residence.
It seemed these 9 Heartthrob Value points were really useful—she’d run into Song Jie right at the entrance, though she hadn’t seen the male lead Xiao Zhen.
She didn’t look at Song Jie.
Instead, she smiled as she walked forward with her green-haired turtle Husband, saluting the United Kingdom Duke, then raised her brows and smiled at the second female lead, Zhang Youwei.
“County Princess, I hope you’ve been well?”
Zhang Youwei’s heart skipped twice.
That voice, that tone, that expression…
It was as if Jia Ning had suddenly appeared before her again.
But it wasn’t Jia Ning—it was the detestable Xie Yushu.
An inexplicable dislike rose in her heart.
How could she have mistaken Xie Yushu for Jia Ning?
She’d always sneered when others said Xie Yushu resembled Jia Ning.
In her eyes, Xie Yushu only shared some facial features, but as soon as she spoke or moved, she was nothing like Jia Ning.
Jia Ning would never be so timid, so eager to please men by pretending to be weak and pitiful.
Xie Yushu had only fooled the Old Madam and Pei Shilin by copying Jia Ning’s dress and manner.
But today, Xie Yushu seemed different from before.
For a moment, Zhang Youwei almost mistook her for Jia Ning, though her dress and style were nothing alike.
“Xie Yushu, don’t talk to me like that.”
Zhang Youwei stared at the mole on her nose, reminding herself that she was just imitating Jia Ning, disgusting as ever.
“Are we that close?”
But Xie Yushu didn’t get angry at all, still smiling sweetly at her, tilting her head on purpose.
“Not close. Then why did County Princess specially invite me?”
Zhang Youwei visibly froze, as if bewitched.
Her mind flashed back to when Jia Ning would smile just like this when she was angry, saying, “If you don’t like me, why do you keep coming to find me, County Princess?”
Back then, she’d disliked Xie Jia Ning—everyone liked her, even Song Jie.
She’d say she didn’t like Song Jie, but still acted close with him.
Her dislike was tinged with jealousy.
For a time, she deliberately snubbed Jia Ning, hoping Jia Ning would come to make up with her.
She was always the one to seek Jia Ning out—she wanted Jia Ning to do the same for her.
But then Jia Ning suddenly disappeared…
And now, Xie Yushu, with a manner and voice so much like Jia Ning, said, “Just a joke. I’m very grateful to the County Princess for the invitation.”
Somehow, Zhang Youwei couldn’t say any of her usual sharp, poisonous words.
Her heart felt sour and tight. Jia Ning had never given her such an easy way out.
“Host, you’ve gained 1 Heartthrob Value,” Xitong sounded in her ear.
“From Zhang Youwei.”
Xie Yushu looked at the Heartthrob System Interface and saw her Heartthrob Value had reached 10.
She was very satisfied—so even the second female lead could be won over, and could generate Heartthrob Value. It was like a field of chives waiting to be harvested.
In her good mood, even her gaze at her green-haired turtle Husband became filled with smiles.
Song Jie seemed stung by her smiling face.
He spoke in a hoarse, cold tone, “I didn’t expect to meet Madam Pei here.”
His gaze never left Xie Yushu, searching for any hint of discomfort or anger on her face—after all, he had canceled their meeting tonight.
He’d thought Pei Shilin would trouble Xie Yushu now that she was of no use, but she seemed perfectly fine.
In the sunlight, she was like a ripe peach.
She was no longer dressed like Jia Ning, but wore a narrow-sleeved sheer blouse, the breeze revealing her arms beneath the fabric.
A pair of jade-green earrings dangled at her ears, swaying as she looked at Pei Shilin with honeyed eyes.
Pei Shilin hovered attentively at her side, still supporting her hand.
She remained composed, never once glancing at Song Jie.
Only when he said “Madam Pei” did she lift her eyes to look at him.
In the brilliance of her gaze, Song Jie saw a trace of mockery.
He thought she would say something to him, but she quickly looked away, turning to Pei Shilin.
“Husband, chat with the United Kingdom Duke at your leisure. I’ll accompany Mother inside first.”
Pei Shilin was clearly stunned.
He hadn’t expected Xie Yushu to give him such face, playing along as a loving couple.
Before they set out, he’d even reminded his mother not to provoke Xie Yushu today—if there was a scene at the Duke of England’s Residence, the Pei Family would never be able to lift their heads in Bi Jing.
He nodded, flattered, his tone unconsciously gentle.
“Alright, it’s hot here. You and Mother go in first, I’ll join you in a bit.”
Song Jie couldn’t help but sneer, inwardly admiring Xie Yushu’s “acting skills”—pretending nothing had happened between them, playing the loving wife with Pei Shilin, that useless coward.
His sneer drew the attention of both Pei Shilin and Zhang Youwei.
“Song Prime Minister, what are you laughing at?”
Zhang Youwei asked curiously.
Song Jie glanced at Pei Shilin with a cold smile.
“Nothing, just surprised at how affectionate Young Master Pei and Madam Pei are.”
Pei Shilin’s face immediately tightened.
He glared at Song Jie, cursing him silently and wishing he’d lose his voice from poison.
But Xie Yushu heard the pleasing system prompt—
“Host, you’ve gained 2 Green Hat Value, from Pei Shilin and Song Jie.”
The two chives were even fighting to wear the green hat.
Feeling refreshed, she supported Li Huixian inside, hearing Zhang Youwei still trying to persuade Song Jie.
“Song Prime Minister, won’t you come in for a while? At least have some tea and snacks,” Zhang Youwei asked softly.
But Song Jie’s gaze seemed to be directed inside the residence.
Zhang Youwei followed his eyes and saw Xie Yushu’s graceful figure.
Her heart leapt and twisted—could Song Jie be looking at Xie Yushu?
Impossible, Song Jie despised Xie Yushu as a mere imitation.
Yet she heard Song Jie slowly reply, “I’ll come in and sit for a bit.”
For some reason, she felt no joy at all.
It was as if…as if Song Jie was staying for Xie Yushu.
Of course, Song Jie wasn’t staying for Xie Yushu.
He’d just remembered that Xiao Zhen would be at the birthday banquet today, and the thought of Xiao Zhen seeing Xie Yushu’s face made him uncomfortable.
Would Xie Yushu treat Xiao Zhen the same as she treated him?
Would she “perform” as Jia Ning before Xiao Zhen?
Would Xiao Zhen see her as a stand-in for Jia Ning?
The more he thought about it, the more uneasy he felt.
Suppressing a cough, he said, “Just in time to play a round of chess with the Fourth Prince.”
He needed to keep Xiao Zhen from meeting Xie Yushu as much as possible.
Pei Shilin’s already tense face darkened.
What did Song Jie mean by not leaving now?
Xie Yushu entered the residence?
Xiao Zhen sat alone in a Water Pavilion, listening as his attendant quietly reported that Xie Yushu had run into Song Jie at the gate, and that Song Jie, who had been about to leave, had been persuaded to stay by County Princess Zhang.
Was it County Princess Zhang who persuaded him?
Or was it Xie Yushu?
Song Jie was never someone who changed his mind so easily.
He was growing more and more curious about Xie Yushu, but as the Fourth Prince, he couldn’t openly go to the front hall where the women were gathered.
“Where is Xie Yushu now?” he asked the attendant.
“She seems to have gone to the West Garden,” the attendant replied.
“The ladies in the front hall don’t wish to associate with her, but the Meng Family’s young master and the Duke of England’s young master sneaked in to see her, and then she was called to the West Garden by the Lady Dowager of Yong’an Marquis Manor.”
Meng Tingchun, Xie Jia Ning’s cousin?
He and Xie Jia Ning had grown up together.
Even he snuck a peek at Xie Yushu—just how much did she look like her?
Xiao Zhen waved the attendant away, then slipped unnoticed to the West Garden.
Sure enough, he saw the Lady Dowager of Yong’an Marquis Manor standing guard outside a pavilion.
He lightly tapped his toes and leapt into the branches of a tree with a view of the pavilion, crouching down to peer inside.
He first heard the Marquis Consort of Yong’an’s reproachful voice.
“What are you doing here today? On the day you returned home, I told you: you served the Old Madam, I allowed you to marry into the Pei Family with a dowry, and that settles our accounts. From now on, you should be a proper Madam Pei. Don’t get involved with Yong’an Marquis Manor again, and stop dressing up as Jia Ning! Yet you insist on coming today, drawing everyone’s attention!”
Inside the pavilion, a figure in jade-green stood facing the Marquis Consort of Yong’an, her back to Xiao Zhen.
He first heard her cold laugh.
“Mother, how unreasonable you are.”
That voice was laced with mocking laughter, slow and unhurried.
“What do you mean, stop dressing as Jia Ning’s elder sister? My father gave me this face—am I supposed to jump into hot oil and ruin it?”
The figure in green shifted with the sound, turning to sit on a stone bench, fanning herself lazily, the tip of her beautiful brow raised in provocation.
Xiao Zhen gripped the branch tightly.
For the first time, he saw that profile clearly.
In the dappled light, the raised brow and bright eyes—wasn’t that Xie Jia Ning?
But the words she spoke were ones Xie Jia Ning would never say: “Mother shouldn’t blame me. Blame my useless father, the Marquis of Eternal Peace. If he hadn’t fooled around, I wouldn’t even have had a way to be born!”
Xiao Zhen stared at the profile in the shifting light, finding it hard to match those words with that face.
He couldn’t help but wish she would turn her face fully, so he could see it clearly.