Chapter 20: Esteem
She knew it—she would hear the answer she wanted from Yu Yeqing.
It shouldn't be. It clearly shouldn't be.
But everyone was twisting themselves into knots telling her it should be. She feared that if she listened long enough, her resistance would numb, her bottom line would retreat step by step, until even she herself no longer cared about this "shouldn't."
Song Hemei's steps grew noticeably lighter. She raised a hand and patted the shoulder of the person beside her. "Young Master Yu, you're surprisingly reasonable."
The weight settled on his shoulder. Yu Yeqing's lashes trembled as he turned his gaze to look at the woman beside him.
At this moment, the barriers between men and women were utterly disregarded. Her approach came so naturally, half her body leaning against his arm, that he instinctively lifted his hand to steady her.
Song Hemei seemed oblivious to all this. She looked up to meet his slightly trembling eyes and nodded with an exaggeratedly mature air. "Having you by my younger brother's side, I'm sure he'll grow to be as reasonable as you. Back then, it was fortunate that I made a decisive choice and convinced Father to pick you."
Yu Yeqing felt his heart stir at her words. He spoke before thinking: "Why me?"
He asked this kind of question again.
As if this question carried great weight in his heart.
Song Hemei's thoughts were abruptly pulled back to last night. Before her eyes flashed the image of his eyes laced with desire, overlapping with the gaze before her now. She belatedly realized how close she was to him.
For some reason, she felt the palm touching him grow hot.
Her fingers twitched. She slowly withdrew her hand and turned her head away, not letting him notice her unease.
"Naturally, because you're well-learned."
This question was much easier to answer than last night's. "Originally, Father wanted to pick someone close to my younger brother's age. But I thought, a bunch of half-grown children together—what ambition could they forge? Better to choose someone older, more steady. You fit perfectly."
Song Hemei walked slowly ahead, her tone natural and light. "I had Elder Brother inquire about you. Your character and scholarship put me at ease."
Her casual words were like a warm breeze brushing his neck, spreading warmth through his body with the pulse at his throat. Even his fingertips and the ends of his hair tingled with a melting numbness.
Yu Yeqing lowered his head, his gaze tracing from her cheek across her earlobe to her collarbone. Suddenly, his throat felt dry.
The sweet fragrance on her body had faded considerably. This subtle change made him feel that the usual blockage in his chest had also dissipated. He instinctively wanted to reach out, but stopped himself when his fingertips brushed past her hair. He forced his hand back with great effort.
She could do things that crossed the line, but he had no right to take the initiative. He spoke in a low voice: "Second Miss honors me too much."
"No need to be so polite with me."
When they reached the corridor where they had to part, Song Hemei stopped and turned to face him. "That annotation—can you truly give it to him tomorrow?"
The annotation wasn't difficult; one night was enough.
Moreover, since she was the one asking, even if it weren't possible, he would have to nod.
He answered frankly: "I can."
Song Hemei smiled, nodding with satisfaction. "Excellent. Then I'll come find you tomorrow."
"No need to trouble Miss to come in person. When I come tomorrow, I'll bring the annotation."
Song Hemei was momentarily speechless. She looked up at him with a peculiar expression.
Yu Yeqing was slightly stunned, not understanding her meaning. But the next moment, she leaned in closer and lowered her voice: "How is it that when you should think deeper, you think too shallow? Why would I personally fetch a mere annotation?"
What required her to go personally was naturally—with him—
Yu Yeqing's heart seemed to skip a beat. He instinctively averted his gaze so as not to appear so flustered.
But Song Hemei's expression was as calm as if she were discussing something as simple as eating and drinking.
She looked at the man before her—his expression stern, yet the tips of his ears were red. Her mood lifted, and her tone became lighter. "Go back now, Young Master Yu. I won't see you off. Ah, and... rest early tonight."
Yu Yeqing felt as if he had been granted a pardon. Pulling himself out of the agitation and unease, he stepped back half a pace and cupped his hands in farewell.
Song Hemei watched his figure disappear at the end of the corridor. The ripples in her heart slowly settled back into place. The brief moment of lightness vanished with the last flutter of his light blue robe hem. She returned to the mist-shrouded courtyard, sinking back into stagnant water.
Her sister-in-law's words replayed in her mind—all but pointing a finger at her face, accusing her of selfishness. Her hands clenched tightly in her sleeves. But just then, a sound came from behind her: "Xiao He, what are you doing standing here?"
Song Hemei's heart tightened. That was Father's voice.
She slowly turned around and saw Father standing not far away with the steward, as if they had just returned from outside.
But this path led to the side gate.
For a moment, Song Hemei felt a pang of guilt. She merely nodded to her father. "Just wandering."
Father Song paused. The hand resting on his belt stroked the precious jade embedded in it. "Alright, stop wandering. Come over. Your father wants to speak with you."
Song Hemei breathed a sigh of relief. At least Father hadn't noticed anything. But as she bowed her head, she pressed her lips together reluctantly. She didn't want to talk to him much, but Father left her no room to refuse. He turned and walked straight toward the study.
She twisted and tugged at the handkerchief in her hand. Helpless, she ultimately followed.
She could roughly guess what Father wanted to say. Mother, Elder Brother, and Sister-in-law had all said it in different words, but it was the same old tune.
But after entering the room, Father first dismissed the steward. He pointed to the low stool beside the tea table. "Sit. Keep your father company."
Father Song had lost some of his energy as he aged. Business dinners and drinking had made him much heavier. He sat down on the low stool, adjusting his position with a few grunts of discomfort.
Since she had come of age and grown more sensible, and after witnessing the passing of Old Master Shao, Song Hemei had developed a different perspective on life and death. She couldn't bear to see her father like this. Her heart ached. She could only lower her head and walk the few steps to sit across from him.
On the table before her were teacups and an envelope.
"Take a look." Father Song spoke first.
Song Hemei had thought it might be something sent by the Shao family, but when she opened it, she saw it was a government gazette from the border.
Ever since the imperial court had ordered the creation of standardized editions, the Office of Transmission had begun copying and distributing these gazettes. They contained everything from imperial edicts and decrees down to legal documents and official announcements. For merchants, the most important thing was to gauge the political winds. Studying the gazette was essential—you couldn't have the court saying one thing while you went in the opposite direction.
And the gazette in her hands was dedicated to war reports. The Northern Wei frequently encroached on Bianjing. The court had already begun reassigning officials. Though it wasn't stated explicitly, the intention to wage war was clear.
"I've been mulling it over," Father Song said. "If war really breaks out, the first place to suffer will be Pingzhou, and the second will be our Changzhou. We'll have to move to the Capital. But that place is a den of high officials and nobles. Our family's wealth makes us one of the richest households in Changzhou, but if we go to the Capital, we wouldn't even be worth a second glance."
Father Song sipped his tea. "In the end, merchants are a step below everyone else. It's fortunate that the third son caught the special imperial examination—it's our Song family's chance to change our fate. But there are so many merchant families across the empire trying to take the exams. When will our turn ever come?"
A chill settled in Song Hemei's chest. She spoke recklessly, "But Father, the Shao family is just a local prefect. What power can he exert? You might as well marry me up higher—to a Palace Attendant, a Chief Minister, a Secretariat Drafter. Even as a second wife, I wouldn't mind."
"Nonsense!" Father Song cut her off angrily. "You're my only daughter. Would I send you to be trampled?"
"So being married into the Shao family isn't being trampled? Besides trampling, it makes me sick."
Father Song rapped the table. "How can that be the same? Shao Wen'ang still has feelings for you! Don't bother questioning how much of that feeling is real or fake, or when it might run out. Even a little feeling is better than a family with none at all. Besides, how do you know the Shao family will stop here?"
Song Hemei looked up as her father leaned forward mysteriously, beckoning her closer. She sighed helplessly and leaned in, hearing him lower his voice: "That old man Shao found a connection—linked up with a high-ranking court official. He's bound to be transferred to the Capital sooner or later. When you marry over, if the whole family moves to the Capital, you can go along too."
She didn't want to hear any of this and made to pull back, but her father grabbed her wrist.
"Your old man here, I squeezed a big piece out of the Shao family's hands—warhorses."
"Think about it. When war breaks out, how can there be a shortage of horses? Whether my business succeeds or you go to the Capital with the Shao family, we can get the third son into the Capital. As long as our family has a foothold there, there's still hope."
"Why do I say Shao Wen'ang has feelings for you? That old man Shao originally didn't even want to recognize this marriage of ours. Otherwise, why do you think your betrothal cards haven't been finalized? In the end, it was Shao Wen'ang who begged for it. He insisted on having you marry him first, regardless of the betrothal cards. But now it's done. Having a child during his mourning period is a grave mistake. Our family holds a major handle on the Shao family."
Song Hemei's lashes lowered. She understood.
Was she supposed to thank Shao Wen'ang? Thank him for not forgetting their years of affection even when faced with wealth and status, for still wanting to marry her?
If there had never been that matter of the concubine, if she had become pregnant early after marrying into the Shao family, no matter how prosperous the Shao family became in the future, they would never dare to bear the reputation of divorcing their lawful wife. She would have held the position of Madam Shao firmly.
But inside Shao Wen'ang's so-called true heart was hidden this nauseating filth.
She closed her eyes, only resenting why she had to be caught up in such a mess—unable to love deeply, unable to hate purely.
Father Song patted her arm. "Xiao He, think it over carefully. But regardless, you have to attend the Shao family's banquet tomorrow. The rest can be discussed later. At the very least, secure your position first, then we can talk about everything else."
Bitterness rose in Song Hemei's throat. She looked up at her father's somewhat aged eyes. In the end, she nodded stiffly and painfully.
When she left the study, she felt her steps were unsteady, as if she were sleepwalking. She didn't go out for the evening meal with the family, instead staying in her room, lying on the bed, staring blankly at the canopy.
It was as if invisible threads were tightly binding her, entangling her so she couldn't break free, couldn't breathe.
This time, the restraints were even greater. There seemed to be no way for her to plan slowly.
One wrong step, and she might lose the great opportunity to enter the Capital.
One step too slow, and years of family fortune could be destroyed when war broke out.
She drifted into a restless sleep. When she woke the next morning and saw the maidservant coming in to attend to her toilet, her eyes were vacant. She sat silently on the bed for a long while before murmuring, "Dress my hair in a married woman's style."
When her mother came to see her and saw her fully dressed and neatly adorned, she was very pleased.
She had originally come to persuade her again, but now she simply smiled. "This is my good girl. Look, a newlywed young wife should dress festively and look pretty."
Her mother came over to take her hand and chattered on and on. The more Song Hemei listened, the more irritated she became, the more she wanted to resist. She had to interrupt: "I know. When I go to the Shao residence, I won't argue with them."
She paused, then added, "I'll come back tonight. I won't stay overnight at the Shao residence."
"Child, why are you so stubborn? That's your husband's family. What harm is there in staying overnight?" Mother Song sighed a few times, but seeing her cold face, she eventually softened her tone. "Fine. If you won't stay, then don't."
Her mother accompanied her through breakfast in the room, then led her toward the side gate. "I've prepared the carriage for you. It's not showy. It'll go all the way to the Shao family's side gate and you can slip in quietly. That way, no busybody will see you and gossip about you young newlyweds."
Song Hemei kept her eyes lowered. Hearing that grating form of address, she didn't even have the energy to deny or refute it. She simply obeyed and walked forward.
Just as she passed the moon gate, she paused. As if sensing something, she looked toward the end of the adjoining corridor. A corner of an indigo blue robe caught her eye.
The next moment, Yu Yeqing bent down to step through the low corridor entrance, his tall, slender figure appearing before her.
As if fated, he sensed her gaze and looked toward her.
But the moment their eyes met, his gaze rose slightly, shifting to her married woman's hair bun—
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