And so, Song Yu kept the letter without a shred of guilt.
A mere few months of torment was hardly enough—in his opinion, Song Yanchao ought to suffer under Song Xiyan’s cruelty until he was reduced to a shadow of his former self, barely human. Only then would Song Yu deliver the final blow.
Only then would the people of Ping Prince's Mansion be worthy of death.
"Father, these people aren’t worth your concern."
A cold glint flashed in Song Shihuan’s eyes. The likes of Ping Prince's Mansion could be dealt with effortlessly by her.
But... since Song Xiyan vented her frustrations on Song Yanchao whenever she was in a foul mood...
Well then...
She would have some fun teasing Song Xiyan.
"My lady, I heard Second Master Shen bought a plum blossom estate in the outskirts to appease Second Madam Shen. So, Second Miss Shen has invited noble ladies from the capital to admire the blossoms three days from now." Yingchun, as if reading Song Shihuan’s thoughts, spoke softly.
"Oh? Why wasn’t I invited?"
Song Shihuan feigned dismay. "Yingchun, go ask Gu Mingzhu if she received an invitation. If not, then I suppose I’ll have to attend uninvited."
As expected, Gu Mingzhu hadn’t been invited either.
Three days later.
Song Xiyan and Shen Lin'er walked arm in arm, the picture of sisterly affection, while the other noble ladies, out of deference to Ping Prince's Mansion and the Shen family, forced smiles as they admired the plum blossoms.
"Lin'er, your father treats you and your mother so well," Song Xiyan remarked wistfully.
"For these blossoms to be graced by your presence is their greatest fortune," Shen Lin'er replied, lifting her chin haughtily. "Ladies, feel free to wander. If inspiration strikes, you may compose poetry in the lakeside pavilion."
The fragrance of plum blossoms filled the air, and Shen Lin'er exhaled deeply, feeling as though she had reclaimed the dignity she’d lost recently.
But just as the atmosphere reached its peak, an announcement cut through the scene:
"Lady Fuan has arrived—"
"Second Miss Gu has arrived—"
Instantly, Song Xiyan and Shen Lin'er’s smiles vanished, while the other noble ladies brightened with excitement.
"Mingzhu and I have come uninvited," Song Shihuan’s voice rang out before she appeared. "Second Miss Shen invited everyone from the ladies’ academy except us. Could it be you hold a grudge against us?"
"My lady, this humble one wouldn’t dare. I merely feared you might be occupied," Shen Lin'er replied through gritted teeth.
"We have time—plenty of it," Gu Mingzhu chimed in cheerfully, leaning in to sniff the blossoms. "Lin'er, your father is truly generous. Though, instead of spending silver on his mistress, he might as well lavish it on you and your mother."
With those words, she laid bare what none of the noble ladies had dared to voice—this estate wasn’t a gift of affection, but an apology.
"Oh, there’s poetry in the pavilion," Song Shihuan remarked, raising a brow. "Mingzhu, go see if Second Sister has composed anything."
"Second Lady’s poetry is renowned as the finest," Shen Lin'er couldn’t help interjecting.
Gu Mingzhu promptly skipped to the pavilion and brought back Song Xiyan’s poem. "Last time we competed, Second Lady was ill. I’ve always felt my victory was undeserved. Today, I’m in the mood to compose another poem—shall we compare again?"
Song Xiyan’s breath hitched.
If she competed and lost, she would forever be branded as inferior to Gu Mingzhu...
If they didn't compete, they could at least preserve some dignity.
With this thought, Song Xiyan forced a smile. "Today is for admiring plum blossoms. Wouldn't holding a contest ruin the elegance of this occasion?"
"If the Second Miss Song is unwilling, then let it be."
Having successfully provoked Shen Lin'er and Song Xiyan while also disrupting the plum blossom banquet's atmosphere, Song Shihuan and Gu Mingzhu found a quiet spot to sit and enjoy some tea.
"Mingzhu, I recall you're not particularly skilled at composing poetry?"
"That's right."
Gu Mingzhu grinned mischievously. "I bet she wouldn't dare challenge me."
"And what if she insisted?" Song Shihuan's eyes sparkled with amusement.
"Then I'd say I have a stomachache," Gu Mingzhu replied, popping a pastry into her mouth.
The plum blossom banquet ended uneventfully. As they were leaving, Song Shihuan called out to Song Xiyan.
"It's been a while since I last saw the Second Imperial Grandson. I find myself missing him."
Suppressing her disgust, Song Shihuan spoke sweetly before taking a whip from Yingchun's hands and offering it to Song Xiyan. "During the recent hunt, I noticed how dashing the First and Third Imperial Grandsons looked on horseback, which reminded me of the Second Imperial Grandson. I had this riding whip specially made—please deliver it to him on my behalf."
"Then I’ll thank Elder Sister on my Second Brother's behalf."
Song Xiyan clenched the whip, gritting her teeth in silent fury.
The moment she returned to Ping Prince's Mansion, Song Xiyan stormed straight to Song Yanchao's courtyard.
"Would Nanny care to join me in my quarters for some tea?" Facing the imposing nanny, Song Xiyan barely contained her rage.
Seeing no response to the earlier letter, the nanny assumed the masters had no objections to the Second Miss's actions.
Thus, she followed the servants to Song Xiyan's courtyard.
Within moments, the sharp crack of a whip striking flesh echoed through the air, accompanied by Song Yanchao's agonized screams.
"Too noisy."
Song Xiyan casually stuffed a rag into his mouth.
"No wonder you cast me aside—you’ve already reconciled with Song Shihuan. Song Yanchao, you make me sick."
Lash after lash, Song Yanchao writhed in pain, drenched in sweat.
He couldn’t understand—when had he ever reconciled with Song Shihuan?
Meanwhile, back at Qin Prince's Mansion, Song Shihuan was in high spirits, even humming cheerfully during dinner, which drew curious glances from Song Yu.
"A-Huan, you must have enjoyed the plum blossom banquet today."
"Indeed. I even prepared a grand gift for Song Yanchao." After recounting the day's events in detail, Song Yu chuckled in approval.
"Dealing with those little brats? Best to let them tear each other apart first."
This was a strategy he had mastered through experience.
Just as father and daughter were enjoying their meal, a voice called from outside:
"Your Highness, Young Miss, a letter has arrived from Ji'an Prefecture."
"Ji'an Prefecture? A letter?" Song Yu set down his chopsticks. "Who in Ji'an Prefecture would write to me?"
"It’s addressed to Young Master Guo Feng from Lord Ye."
Upon opening the letter, Song Yu’s face gradually turned red, but he remained speechless for a long moment.
"Father, what did Lord Ye write?"
Noticing his odd expression, Song Shihuan pressed anxiously.
Song Yu handed her the letter, his voice tinged with grievance:
"I worked so hard on the exercises he assigned, yet just because he couldn’t find me at Guo Mansion every time he visited, he assumed I was slacking off."
"And even wrote a three-page letter cursing me out?"
He was truly more wronged than Dou E!
