Shige wasn’t actually hungry—he just didn’t want his mother talking to his aunt.

Song Yu pretended not to notice his rejection. She bent down slightly, her voice soft and coaxing.

“Auntie has some delicious treats. Would Shige like to come with me?”

But the child only tightened his arms around Song Luan’s neck, deliberately turning his face away. He showed no reaction to Song Yu’s overly sweet smile.

“I want to eat the pastries my mother makes.”

Song Luan let out a quiet chuckle but quickly masked it, her expression returning to its usual composed arrogance—the demeanor she always maintained in front of her family.

“If you have nothing else to do, Fourth Sister, you should head back. No need to stay here and embarrass yourself.”

The words were blunt—borderline rude. But they were exactly the kind of thing the original Song Luan would have said.

A moment ago, Song Yu had thought her third sister’s temper had improved, even if just slightly. Now, she wasn’t so sure. That sharp tongue was still as cruel as ever. Her sour and cutting personality was infuriating!

She swallowed her anger, forcing herself to endure it. She had suffered enough under Song Luan’s hand before. This sister of hers wasn’t just vicious with words—when truly angered, she had no problem pulling hair and slapping faces. She was not someone to be trifled with.

If she hadn’t come to test the waters, Song Yu wouldn’t have bothered seeking her out at all. Since when had she ever been the one bowing her head in front of Song Luan?

Her smile stiffened.

“Then I won’t disturb you any longer,” she said through gritted teeth.

After Song Yu left, Song Luan carried Shige over to Madam Lin’s place. As they walked, she spoke to him in a lighthearted tone.

“Shige, how about I make you some pastries when we get home?”

If she were to start cooking in front of Madam Lin or any other members of the Song family, they’d probably be scared out of their wits—thinking she had lost her mind or been possessed by a ghost.

Shige was being particularly obedient today. Whatever she said, he simply agreed.

“Okay.”

Madam Lin had just returned from the kitchen, carrying a bowl of freshly made lotus seed soup. She had been planning to bring it over to Song Luan, but seeing her walk in, she quickly greeted her. Her gaze then landed on Shige, perched on her daughter’s shoulder.

“Oh my, baby Zhi is awake! Come, come, Grandmother just made this—it’s warm, fragrant, and sweet.”

Madam Lin wasn’t especially affectionate toward Shige, but she wasn’t cold either. She hadn’t paid him much attention, nor had she ever mistreated him. The child took after his father in looks and temperament—quiet and well-behaved.

She rarely saw this grandson of hers. Her focus had always been on her daughter, leaving little room for anything else. After all, her daughter was hers, but her grandson? He bore the Zhao family name.

Shige climbed onto the chair by himself, his manners impeccable.

“Thank you,” he said politely before picking up the bowl and spoon, taking a small sip.

It was sweet. Way too sweet.

Song Luan sat beside him, taking a taste herself.

She nearly spat it out.

Was sugar free today or something?

Madam Lin looked at her expectantly and asked, “Luanbao, does it taste good?”

Luanbao was Song Luan’s childhood nickname. Madam Lin had called her that since she was little, though once she grew up, she had firmly forbidden it. Even so, Madam Lin would still sneak it in every now and then.

Song Luan struggled to swallow the overly sweet soup, forcing it down with great difficulty. She lied through her teeth, “It’s delicious.”

The original Song Luan had a sweet tooth, but she certainly did not.

Madam Lin beamed with satisfaction. “I knew you’d like it! No one in the Zhao family could ever make it taste like this. Have some more—there’s plenty in the kitchen!”

“Got it, Mother.”

Song Luan practically gulped down the entire bowl, the syrupy sweetness coating her mouth until her head throbbed. She hurriedly reached for a cup of water, trying to wash away the overwhelming sugar rush.

Meanwhile, Shige had also finished his bowl, looking completely unfazed.

Song Luan, puzzled, turned to him. “Did you like it? Was it good?”

He nodded. “It’s delicious.”

Shige never lied to her. If he said he liked it, he truly did.

Song Luan let out an awkward chuckle. “Still hungry?”

He shook his head. “I’m full.”

Worried he might overeat and get sick, she quickly took the bowl away from him. “Good. As long as you’re full.”

—

Meanwhile, Zhao Nanyu was speaking with his father-in-law.

Song Lian had earned the emperor’s favor at court largely due to his supposed honesty. Of course, half of that honesty was just an act. He was the backbone of the Song family—what he said, went.

He was not satisfied with Zhao Nanyu as a son-in-law.

Officials were, to some extent, always a bit snobbish. With his many years in court, Song Lian had already concluded that Zhao Nanyu had little potential for great achievements in politics. But since he was still his daughter’s husband, Song Lian would offer guidance where needed. After all, he had endured years of ridicule because of his daughter’s actions—consider this some form of compensation.

Zhao Nanyu handed over the carefully prepared birthday gift. The steward beside Song Lian accepted it, while Song Lian himself didn’t even spare it a glance, likely assuming there was nothing of value inside.

“I’ve heard about A’Luan’s foolishness. Be patient with her. Don’t take it to heart,” Song Lian said, referring to the scandal a few months ago when Song Luan was caught secretly meeting another man.

Zhao Nanyu’s lips curled slightly. “I know.”

Song Lian always found him easy to push around. No matter how improper Song Luan’s actions were, he never considered them her fault.

“As long as you understand. A family should be peaceful and harmonious.”

Standing with his hands behind his back, Zhao Nanyu’s slender figure seemed almost fragile. His lowered gaze concealed any emotion in his eyes, while the slanting sunlight cast a warm glow over his delicate features.

“Yes,” he murmured.

Song Lian didn’t have much to say to him anyway. After a few routine questions, he dismissed him.

Zhao Nanyu bowed and stepped out of the main hall. In the courtyard, he ran into several familiar faces—many colleagues from the Court of Judicial Review had come. After exchanging a few greetings, he made his way to the rear courtyard.

The day passed quickly, and soon, night had fallen.

After dinner at the Song residence, Zhao Nanyu and Song Luan prepared to leave. Surprisingly, Song Luan had behaved herself for once. She didn’t argue with her sisters, didn’t throw any sharp remarks, and didn’t deliberately provoke anyone. From start to finish, she simply ate her meal in peace.

In previous years, she had never been able to resist lashing out at them. The original Song Luan found their smiles unbearable—always assuming they were mocking her. If an older or younger sister so much as smiled in her direction, she would immediately shoot back with cutting sarcasm, refusing to back down until both sides were left wounded.

When it was time for them to leave, the only one reluctant to see them go was Madam Lin. She clung to Song Luan, crying endlessly, completely ignoring Zhao Nanyu’s presence as if he were air. Wiping her tears, she said, “A’Luan, if you’re unhappy at the Zhao household, just come back home. You can tolerate anything, but never, ever tolerate being wronged.”

Song Luan couldn’t help but laugh. “Mother, just go back inside.”

Only after countless reassurances did Madam Lin finally let her go. Once she was gone, Song Luan finally had the chance to turn to Zhao Nanyu. Curiosity got the better of her, and she asked, “What did my father say to you?”

Zhao Nanyu replied coldly, “Just some routine questions. Nothing else.”

His expression remained distant and indifferent.

Song Luan relaxed slightly. “Oh.”

The carriage came to a sudden stop midway. Curious, Song Luan lifted the curtain and peeked outside, only to see another carriage ahead, blocking their path.

She was about to let the curtain fall when she caught sight of a man stepping out of the luxurious carriage in front of them. She focused her gaze and quickly recognized him—it was Zhao Chao, the uncle who was particularly close to Shige.

Zhao Chao strode toward their carriage and called out in a low voice, “Second Brother.”

Zhao Nanyu stepped out. “What are you doing here?”

Zhao Chao smiled, his handsome face lighting up with charm. Dressed in a moon-white robe, he looked especially refined. “I was out drinking with A’Yan,” he replied. “Didn’t expect to run into you here.”

Zhao Nanyu frowned, disapproval evident on his sharp, elegant features. He lowered his voice. “Don’t take him drinking next time. He’s still young.”

Zhao Wenyan was seventeen—not exactly a child—but since they weren’t born of the same mother, Zhao Nanyu had always been particularly strict with him.

Zhao Chao seemed to have expected this response. He chuckled lightly. “Can’t keep him locked up studying all the time—what if he turns into a bookworm?” Then, shifting the topic, he suggested, “Why don’t you join us? It’s been a while since we had a drink together.”

Zhao Nanyu stepped aside slightly and said in a measured tone, “There’s someone else in the carriage.”

Zhao Chao raised an eyebrow and feigned surprise. “She’s here too?”

When no one else was around, he wouldn’t even bother calling her “Second Sister-in-law.”

Zhao Nanyu gave a slight nod, a silent acknowledgment.

Only then did Zhao Chao recall the date—his second brother’s father-in-law’s birthday. No wonder they were traveling together in the same carriage.

He smirked, unfazed. “Then bring her along.”

Rumors had already reached Zhao Chao’s ears—something had changed between his second brother and his wife. Lately, they had been seen coming and going together more often than before.

Zhao Nanyu hesitated for a brief moment before nodding. “Fine.”

He lifted the carriage curtain and called out to Song Luan, who had been absentmindedly resting her head on her hand. “Get down.”

Still dazed, Song Luan followed his command without thinking. It wasn’t until she stepped off the carriage that she realized what was happening.

She had sworn never to drink in front of Zhao Nanyu again after the last time she got drunk. But this time, he didn’t even give her a chance to refuse.

With his usual decisiveness, he instructed the coachman and servants to take Shige home first—then, without another word, he grabbed her wrist and led her straight to a tavern.

Zhao Chao had reserved a private room in advance. Seated by the window, he pushed it open, revealing a deep blue lake in the distance. Floating on its surface were colorful river lanterns, released by young women, their soft glow shimmering against the water.

As they made their way into the tavern, several men turned to look at her. She had applied striking makeup, her attire bold and vivid. Her already stunning features were further accentuated by the exquisite cosmetics, making her beauty almost too much to ignore.

It was no surprise that they couldn’t help but stare.

Zhao Wenyan sat stiffly by the window, his face dark. When he saw Song Luan enter behind Zhao Nanyu, he snorted twice in open displeasure—barely stopping himself from blurting out: Why is she here too?!

Song Luan felt a headache coming on. Between Zhao Chao, the cunning snake who always wore a polite smile, and Zhao Wenyan, she’d much rather avoid the latter.

Call her paranoid, but if this guy ended up obsessing over her like he did in the original story, it would be a complete disaster!

As soon as Song Luan sat down, Zhao Chao slid a cup of wine toward her, his smile warm but cunning, like a fox sizing up its prey. “Second Sister-in-law, a toast to you,” he said smoothly.

Before she could react, Zhao Nanyu suddenly took the cup from her hands. “Eat something first to line your stomach,” he said, then tilted his head back and drank the wine himself.

Song Luan was caught off guard. She quickly lowered her head and focused on nibbling a piece of pastry, feeling strangely flattered.

Zhao Chao’s smile deepened, taking on a knowing edge. So, their relationship really has changed.

Could it be that Second Brother had actually started to like her?

The thought barely surfaced before he dismissed it with a chuckle. Zhao Chao had never been able to fully read his second brother, but love? No, he couldn’t imagine that happening.

Besides, in Zhao Chao’s mind, Song Luan probably wouldn’t live long anyway.

=^_^=