Chapter 8: The Frail Younger Sister

“Really?” Xia Ling leaned in closer. “How does the young master know?”

“Unless she wants Aunt Qi to break her legs.” Song Ning shrugged.

Xia Ling froze for a moment, then burst out laughing.

“Exactly!” she said, her eyes curving with her smile.

The comb continued to glide through his hair, stroke after stroke.

After a while, Xia Ling spoke again, her voice softer than before, carrying a hint of cautious probing:

“Young master, when the time comes, will you move to the Qi Family? Will Xia Shuang and I have to move there too?”

Her hand paused briefly.

“My sister asked me to find out yesterday.”

Xia Shuang stood at the doorway with her sword in her arms, shooting her a glare, but she did not speak to refute it.

Just as Song Ning was about to answer, a clear female voice suddenly came from outside:

“Brother.”

Xia Ling’s hand trembled sharply, nearly dropping the comb to the ground.

She hurriedly set it down, walked quickly to the door, and pulled it open.

A woman stood outside.

She wore a simple, plain dress with a thin cloak draped over it.

The faint morning light fell upon her face. She was extremely beautiful—brows like distant mountains, eyes like autumn waters, a delicate and straight nose, and slightly pale lips, the kind often seen on someone long ill.

Her skin was very pale, with faint blue veins visible on the back of her hands.

Her figure was slender and frail, like a willow swaying in the wind, as if a gust could knock her over.

A faint medicinal fragrance lingered in the air.

“Second Miss, good morning,” Xia Ling greeted softly with a respectful bow, a proper smile on her face.

Song Youyi.

The second young lady of the Song Mansion.

Within the Song Mansion, aside from Mother Song, she held the most authority.

The eldest young lady had been sent to the frontier years ago to defend against foreign tribes, so all matters in the household naturally fell under Song Youyi’s management.

Although Song Ning’s words carried weight, he was blind and rarely involved himself in household affairs.

So every time Xia Ling faced the second young lady, she instinctively felt uneasy.

Whether it was because of that cold gaze she had seen in childhood, or because of her status, she could not tell.

“Where is my brother? He should be up by now, right?” Song Youyi stopped at the doorway, her voice gentle.

Xia Ling nodded hurriedly, and Xia Shuang silently stepped aside.

“Come in,” Song Ning’s voice came from inside, carrying a smile. “Up so early?”

A gentle smile appeared on Song Youyi’s face.

She stepped inside lightly, walked to Song Ning’s side, bent slightly, and called sweetly:

“Brother, I’m here.”

She looked at him. He was already dressed in fresh clothes; the moon-white robe made him appear even more refined.

Those pale eyes tilted slightly in her direction. Though unfocused, it felt as if he were looking at her.

A strange feeling rose in Song Youyi’s heart.

“Brother, you’re going to the Qi Family today, right?” she said as she sat beside him with a smile. “I’ll go with you—just in time to get some fresh air.”

Song Ning frowned slightly, catching the faint medicinal scent on her.

“With your health, you should stay indoors,” he advised, a hint of disapproval in his tone. “Don’t go out so often. Isn’t what I wrote for you enough to pass the time?”

Song Youyi stretched lazily, her frail body leaning against his arm as she said in a coaxing tone:

“Oh, you write too slowly. I’ve already finished reading it.”

“Staying at home all the time is suffocating.”

“Besides, this is an important matter. How can the Song Family not send someone? Elder Sister isn’t here!”

Whether intentional or not, her soft body kept pressing into Song Ning’s embrace. Her small face drew closer and closer to his, the medicinal scent growing stronger.

Song Ning, unable to deal with her persistence, sighed. “Fine, fine. We’ll go.”

Song Youyi smiled, covering her mouth as she coughed lightly.

Then she stood up and extended her hand to Song Ning.

“Brother, support me.”

Song Ning laughed helplessly. “Since when does a blind person support someone else?”

“I don’t care.” Song Youyi pulled his hand over and placed it on her arm. “I want you to support me.”

Left with no choice, Song Ning let her have her way.

Taking advantage of it, Song Youyi leaned against him, just like when they were children, nestling into his embrace.

Her head rested against his shoulder as she greedily inhaled the faint scent of soap from him—the most familiar smell to her.

All of Song Ning’s daily necessities were chosen and delivered by her, including his clothes and various personal items.

Everything, even his clothing and undergarments, was in styles she liked.

Song Ning could not see and did not care about such things, so Song Youyi dressed him according to her own preferences.

But would this life disappear once Song Ning married?

Song Youyi could not be sure. After all, this was a major matter between two families.

Song Ning reached up and gently patted her head, coaxing, “Don’t stick so close. We won’t be able to walk.”

A faint blush rose on her face. Her beautiful eyes narrowed slightly, shimmering like rippling water.

The flush against her pale complexion made her look both sickly and strangely alluring.

Something flickered in her eyes.

Obsession. Greed. Possession.

Xia Ling stood to the side like a wooden post, barely daring to breathe.

She watched as Song Youyi clung intimately to Song Ning, watched those pale hands tightly grasping the young master’s arm, watched that frail, beautiful face reveal an expression she could not quite describe.

Then Song Youyi’s gaze swept over.

That look was exactly the same as many years ago.

Cold. Threatening.

Xia Ling immediately lowered her head, shifting her gaze elsewhere, pretending she had seen nothing.

Naturally, Song Ning could not see any of this.

He could only feel his sister’s slender body pressed against him—soft, warm, carrying a faint medicinal scent.

Her arm was wrapped around his. Rather than him supporting her, it was more like she was clinging to him as they moved forward.

Just like when they were children, always wanting to stick close to others.

But Song Ning could understand. After all, his sister’s health was poor, so relying on others was only natural.

“I’ve already arranged the sedan,” Song Youyi said softly with a smile. “Let’s go.”

The two walked out side by side, with Xia Ling following silently behind.

When they reached the doorway, Song Youyi suddenly spoke:

“If only you could marry within our own family, Brother.”

“Then it wouldn’t be so troublesome. We wouldn’t have to go deliver invitations.”

She added meaningfully, “Just don’t know whether Elder Sister would agree.”

Hearing this, a thought suddenly popped into Xia Ling’s mind:

Elder Sister? Does she really mean the Song Family’s eldest young lady?

Song Ning frowned slightly and raised his hand to tap her on the head, saying seriously:

“What nonsense are you talking about? Don’t joke about Elder Sister.”

Song Youyi stuck out her tongue.

“I’m just kidding.”

Her voice was soft and sweet. “Elder Sister is at the frontier anyway. She wouldn’t know. What’s the harm in saying a few words?”

As she spoke, she leaned a little closer into Song Ning again.

Xia Ling and Xia Shuang exchanged glances, both at a loss.