Chapter 48: A Visit Stirring Waves

The kitchen was still brewing a medicinal decoction—for Song Yeqing.

She wanted her body to be stronger, better. The lack of physical strength made her feel extremely uncomfortable.

So lately, she’d been drinking bitter herbal medicine three times a day, never skipping a dose.

Watching this made He Yanxin worried and unable to bear the sight.

He couldn’t tell what each medicine was specifically, but the smell alone was already unbearable.

She really could endure hardship—on every level.

She got up early every day to practice, her training intensity even greater than his.

He tried following her routine once, and the next day, he couldn’t even get out of bed. His entire body ached terribly.

But Song Yeqing remained unfazed—jogging, warming up, and even pulling him out of bed. She stayed energized the entire day, never once complaining or shedding a single tear.

He Yanxin couldn’t help but ask, “Aren’t you tired? Can your body really handle this?”

Song Yeqing was silent for a moment, then simply said, “It’s fine. I’m used to it.”

Apparently, being a celestial master wasn’t a job for ordinary people. He Yanxin gave her a thumbs-up, genuinely impressed.

But as Song Yeqing turned her head away, her expression cracked a little.

Hiss—so painful.

“You’re really okay?”

Her back stiffened, but she quickly adjusted her expression and turned to face him, calm as ever. “What do you think?”

He Yanxin didn’t notice her temples twitching subtly, or how her hands behind her back were clenched awkwardly.

In truth, she was exhausted. Tired, in pain, and the medicine was hard to swallow.

But she wasn’t lying when she said she was used to it.

In the Song family, kids started foundational training at the age of three. As they grew older, they had to drink herbal decoctions, soak in medicinal baths, and train their muscles and bones.

When she was little, her mother pampered her and couldn’t bear to see her suffer. She would often cry and complain to her father.

But her father was especially strict about this. His word was law, and he relentlessly pushed her potential to the extreme.

Back at the ancestral home, the demands were even higher. The private tutors were harsh and unyielding—only one thing mattered: study.

Eventually, Song Yeqing understood—any slack in learning or training could mean life or death in real situations.

Their profession was one that walked the edge of a blade. Strength was the foundation for everything.

Even the slightest mistake could mean losing the chance to turn the tide.

But what she hadn’t expected was how much weaker the original Song Niangzi’s body was compared to someone trained since childhood. She was older, too—training now required double the effort.

Even drinking medicine felt far more bitter than before.

Southern girls in ancient times were pampered, even their tongues were delicate.

Sigh! Song Yeqing sighed.

Still, the saying stood: if it doesn’t kill you, push it to the limit. No matter how painful or tiring, she had to endure.

Because she wanted to be the one protecting others—not the one hiding behind others when danger came.

She’d been like this ever since her father passed away.

After swallowing the final mouthful of medicine, Song Yeqing closed her eyes to suppress the nausea caused by the awful taste.

She put away the medicine jar and began preparing dinner as usual.

After dinner, He Yanxin left carrying a bamboo basket on his back.

Inside was the drone. He also brought a tablet and a knife, all covered with coarse cloth.

Strictly speaking, this task should’ve been Song Yeqing’s. After all, she had the storage space ability and wouldn’t need to carry everything out in the open, avoiding unnecessary exposure.

But He Yanxin said this was just a test run—the main goal was still to pick up the ox-cart.

If the drone test worked well, Song Yeqing would be the one to handle it from now on. With her spatial storage, it would be easy to deploy or retrieve—no evidence, even if someone got suspicious.

Next door, the commotion had died down before they finished dinner. They had no idea how things had ended.

Song Yeqing led Song Chengsi by the hand while He Chengze ran ahead, hopping and calling out:

“Grandma Ge! Grandpa Wu! We’re coming in!”

It wasn’t dark yet, so the door was only slightly ajar. The eldest knocked a few times before gently pushing it open.

“Oh! Come on in!”

Old Man Wu answered from the yard.

“Hey there, little one. Did you come alone? Looking for Brother Shitou?”

Granny Ge sat in front of the hall, staring blankly. But when she saw He Chengze walk in, her face immediately lit up with a smile.

“I came with my mom,” the eldest said, turning around and noticing his mother wasn’t behind him. He called out, confused, “Mom?”

Outside, Song Yeqing had been doing mental prep. Only then did she step inside.

“Grandpa, Grandma, I brought the kids over to sit and chat for a bit.”

“Qing-niang, how are you feeling now? Are you doing better?”

Granny Ge got up and greeted her, her smile looking more genuine now than before.

Grandpa Wu also brought over a few stools and told them to sit.

“Much better,” Song Yeqing said as she sat down, patting her two boys and sending them off to play.

“Auntie.” “Aunt.”

…

Wu Dalang and the others didn’t show up, but the children were all there.

Miss Wu walked out with embroidery in her hands, greeted them briefly, then returned to her room. Her eyes were red—she’d clearly been crying.

Song Yeqing didn’t ask what had happened during the day, nor where the others had gone. She decided to get straight to the point.

“Grandpa, Grandma, I have something very urgent to talk to you about.”

The two elders looked puzzled and exchanged glances.

They had originally assumed she came because of the family division drama next door. After all, the commotion had been loud.

It was common knowledge that family matters shouldn’t be aired publicly. Dividing property wasn’t considered honorable, especially with the parents still alive.

They had already prepared themselves for the backlash, for the gossip and the fingers pointed at them, saying the two elders were heartless.

But now, hearing Qing-niang’s words—it didn’t seem like she was here about that?

“Come in and talk,” said Granny Ge.

Realizing it wasn’t a trivial matter, she brought Song Yeqing into the hall. Grandpa Wu shut the door behind them.

Lowering her voice, Song Yeqing briefly explained that Prince Qi was planning a rebellion. She told them about the decision she and He Yanxin had made to leave.

Then she laid out the risks and how it would affect their lives, earnestly inviting them to leave with them.

Of course, this wasn’t something that could be explained in just a few words.

Though she had prepared thoroughly before coming, Song Yeqing still ended up talking for a long time.

Finally, after breaking everything down and clearly explaining it all, she let out a long breath.

The two elders didn’t say anything. Song Yeqing nervously twisted her fingers.

Did they understand or not? Should I say it all again?

Silence. More silence.

Just as she was about to repeat herself, Granny Ge finally spoke.

“No… Wait, Qing-niang, where did you hear all this from?”

A prince rebelling!? My goodness—that’s such a huge deal.

They were just ordinary commoners, so far removed from the imperial court. The most important official they’d ever seen was the county magistrate.

But Song Yeqing came in and immediately dropped the name “Prince Qi.” It startled Granny Ge to her core.

Even though she didn’t understand everything, she did understand the word “rebellion.”

She rushed over to the window, looked around in panic, and only when she was sure no one else had heard Qing-niang’s words did she breathe a sigh of relief.

(End of Chapter)