Song Ning decided to make one last “struggle.”
If Qi Chuyao really wouldn’t give him even a single chance and would avoid him like the plague, then he would never try to persuade her again.
Living separately like this wasn’t so bad either—living in their own spaces, eating their own meals, minding their own business, like well water never interfering with river water.
After all, he wasn’t the kind of man who couldn’t live without a woman.
Song Ning reached out, grabbing Qi Chuyao’s hand. His fingers slipped through hers, interlocking.
He squeezed her hand gently, then asked with a smile:
“Then can you come home after you’re done working from now on? I’ve been waiting for you for so long.”
“We’re already married, so can you come home every night?”
His voice was very gentle, like he was coaxing a disobedient child.
Caught off guard by his initiative, Qi Chuyao’s lips twitched slightly.
For a moment, she didn’t know how to respond, her heartbeat quickening.
‘What is this? A beauty trap to seduce me?’ She thought wildly, her mind a mess.
Damn it, the key point was that he was actually quite handsome!
Those brows, that nose bridge, those lips, that slightly curved smile—up close, he was even more unbearably good-looking.
Young and in the prime of her youth, Qi Chuyao, who had long since broken her vows of abstinence, was struggling to hold herself back.
Especially when she caught that refreshing scent on him, making her want to get closer, closer still.
‘Damn it, Qi Chuyao, you can’t just be conquered by his male charm!’ She cursed herself fiercely in her mind.
‘You’re the sole heir of the Qi family, the daughter of the Minister of War, a person destined for great things. How can you be seduced by a man’s good looks?’
She opened her mouth, wanting to say “yes,” then wanting to say “no,” wanting to say “I’ll think about it,” then wanting to say “stop dreaming.”
But all those words swirled around in her mouth, and not a single one came out.
Qi Chuyao didn’t answer Song Ning for the moment. But as Song Ning caressed her hand, he felt a faint sense of wrongness.
Something was off.
This hand wasn’t right.
His fingers paused on the back of her hand, then began to feel it carefully, from the back of the hand to the fingers, from the fingers to the gaps between them, and from the gaps to the palm.
His brow furrowed slightly. He touched both hands, rubbing every inch of skin meticulously to gauge the texture.
No, this wasn’t that hand.
Although Song Ning couldn’t specifically identify whose hand was whose by touch, since he was blind and hadn’t made a point of memorizing the texture of everyone’s hands, the hand from that night was unforgettable.
That night, the hand was slimmer, with prominent knuckles that felt angular when touched.
It hadn’t spared a single spot on his body, groping from top to bottom, from front to back, and even slipping its fingers into his mouth to swirl around.
He could recognize that texture and force.
But Qi Chuyao’s hand wasn’t as defined as that night’s.
It had a bit more flesh, felt softer to the touch, and the knuckles weren’t as prominent.
Although it felt nice to hold, that night’s hand was definitely not like this.
His heartbeat suddenly skipped a beat.
Qi Chuyao noticed that her mother and Mother Song were both casting teasing glances their way.
Her mother had a hint of a smile on her lips, and Mother Song’s mouth was also slightly curved.
Embarrassed, she pulled her hand back forcefully.
“What are you groping for?” she said shyly, with a hint of annoyance.
Song Ning slowly withdrew his hand, his mind no longer focused on whether Qi Chuyao would come to live with him or not.
He leaned his cheek against his hand, his expression sour.
‘That person from that night… wasn’t it Qi Chuyao?’ he thought. ‘How could this be?’
Song Ning seemed to understand why Qi Chuyao had left last time.
His brow furrowed deeper and deeper, his face looking particularly grim in the candlelight.
Xia Ling, noticing Song Ning’s expression from the side, felt a jolt in her heart.
In all these years, it was the first time she had seen her young master with such a look.
In her memory, the young master had always been gentle, kind, unflappable, and unhurried.
No matter what happened, he was always calm, always smiling, as if the sky could fall and it wouldn’t matter to him.
But tonight, why did he have this expression? Was it because of Qi Chuyao? Because she had pulled her hand away?
The silence in the hall stretched on.
The candle flame flickered, casting everyone’s shadows on the wall, dancing and wavering.
Footsteps sounded again from outside.
This time, it wasn’t one person, but a group.
Mother Qi and Mother Song both stood up at the same time.
Mother Qi’s hand pressed against the edge of the table, her body leaning forward slightly, her gaze fixed intently on the door.
Song Ning also stood up.
He moved his hand from the cat’s back, gripping the table’s edge to slowly rise to his feet.
Everyone else in the room followed suit, standing.
The door was pushed open.
The night wind rushed in, making the candle flame sway violently.
Two figures stepped inside. Leading the way was Qin Junyue, dressed in a dark, form-fitting outfit, a horizontal blade at her side, her hair tied up high, her face showing signs of a long, dusty journey.
Behind her was another person, clad in coarse gray-brown clothes, head bowed low, face unclear.
The figure was thin and walked with a slight limp, as if injured.
Behind them were over a dozen soldiers in plain clothes, all strong and agile, with blades at their waists.
They stood in two rows outside the door, perfectly still.
Qin Junyue stepped into the hall, turned around, and closed the door.
The candle flame wavered, then steadied.
She walked to the center of the hall, knelt on one knee, and raised her hands in a salute.
“Junyue has successfully completed her mission,”
“I have safely brought the Prince of Xin.”
Her back was ramrod straight, her head slightly bowed, her gaze fixed on Mother Qi and Mother Song’s direction.
But in the end, her eyes involuntarily drifted toward Song Ning, and the corners of her mouth curled up slightly, as if seeking credit.
‘See? When you entrusted this to me, I handled it smoothly. Young Master Song, my loyalty to you needs no words—you’ll know it in time.’
But when her eyes landed on Song Ning, something was wrong.
Song Ning was “staring” at her.
Those white pupils seemed as if they could actually see her, fixed tightly on her.
His brows were slightly furrowed, his lips pressed together, his expression far from friendly.
His gaze was like a blade, cutting cleanly through the air and striking Qin Junyue, making her heart tremble.
‘Oh no.’
Had she done something wrong?
Mother Qi stepped forward, bent down, and helped Qin Junyue to her feet.
“You’ve worked hard.”
After speaking, she knelt on one knee before the person behind Qin Junyue and said:
“Your subject, Qi Sugong, Minister of War, pays respects to the Prince of Xin.”
The others behind her followed Qi Sugong’s lead in bowing, including Qin Junyue.
Tang Xuan quickly helped Qi Sugong to her feet. “You are a loyal minister of the state; there is no need for such formality.”
“If it weren’t for your careful planning, I fear I wouldn’t even have been able to reach the Capital City.”
Qi Sugong remained kneeling. “Now, the Emperor holds heavy forces, and the government cannot extend beyond the Inner Palace. Wei Yang has seized control of the court and even invited me to enter the palace to rebel and commit treason!”
“Your subject could never agree. I sent troops privately to escort you, Your Highness, into the capital. Please punish me.”
Tang Xuan patted her on the shoulder, offering comfort.
“You don’t need to be like this. I will not blame you.”
“Even Her Majesty, the Emperor, will understand.”
“Everyone, rise, all of you.”
After saying this, her gaze swept across Mother Qi, Mother Song, Xia Ling and Xia Shuang, and finally landed on Song Ning.
The young man in white, supported by a maid in a pink dress, had white pupils that reflected nothing. But his head was slightly tilted, pointing in her direction.
As she looked at him, a strange, indescribable feeling suddenly surged in her heart.
It was a mysterious feeling, hard to put into words.
‘So this is that “Young Master Song”? The one who wrote the letter to have the Ministry of War send reinforcements, the one who predicted Wei Yang would try to ambush me on the way?’
Qin Junyue stole a glance at Song Ning, momentarily unsure.
‘Maybe that feeling just now was just my imagination? I handled this matter quite well.’