The middle-aged woman's expression froze.

She seemed eager to continue lashing out at Song Tang, but with layers upon layers of onlookers around her, the muscles in her face twitched a few times, and with a smirk, she burst into tears.

"Tangtang...my precious baby..." Tears streamed down her face. "Mother thought you were gone..."

"Come here, let me take a good look at you," the middle-aged woman called to her gently.

"Candy?" Ai Cao asked Song Tang in a low voice.

Song Tang gritted her teeth: "...It's my nickname."

Ever since she had been living alone in that little courtyard in the countryside, she had never heard anyone call her by that nickname.

Song Tang walked calmly toward her mother. She stood a few steps in front of her mother, meeting her gaze as her mother knelt before the ruins.

She looked closely at her mother's face. She looked older and heavier than she remembered.

Although wealth and fame had smoothed out many of her wrinkles, she still couldn't completely erase the marks of her rural years. Tears streamed down the middle-aged woman's face, her wrinkles etched with sorrow, as she reached out to touch Songtang's face.

Song Tang took a step back, avoiding her hand.

The middle-aged woman's crying froze for a moment.

Songtang looked at the woman who had brought her into this world and then abandoned her, and said, "I just came to see you and Father." She turned her head and glanced at where the door had been. "I knocked a few times, and the door fell down. Mother won't blame me, will she?"

The middle-aged woman's eyes were slightly cold. She was still saying, "How could I blame you, Tangtang? We're family."

She wiped away her tears, pulled the maid beside her to her feet, and shouted at the servants, "What are you all standing there for! Move that pile of stuff by the door! Help the master into the carriage!"

The servant approached the pile of wood chips with fear, then stopped in front of the once gleaming plaque bearing the inscription "Song Mansion," daring not to go any further. This plaque was personally inscribed by the Emperor, whom Master Song had requested from him, and it was even hung up by Master Song himself.

They dared not touch her, nor dared they face Madam Song, so they simply stood there.

The onlookers whispered among themselves.

"It must be divine punishment."

"Yeah yeah."

“I’ve always thought that Master Song is a kind and gentle person. How could he do something as heinous as abandoning his child…”

"Shh, keep your voice down, don't let Madam Song hear you."

Madam Song—Song Tang's mother—felt increasingly grim. Supported by her maid, she walked to the plaque, turned around, and scolded the silent servant: "What are you looking at me for! Go and wake the master!"

The servants responded hesitantly. The servants ran around, unable to tell who bumped into whom, or who secretly stepped on Madam Song as they passed by.

Just as she was about to have another attack, the doctor rushed over with his medicine kit. Wiping his sweat, he bowed to Madam Song, saying, "Madam, I came from a side entrance, so I was a little late..."

Madam Song took a breath, her face darkening: "Come quickly and see the master."

The doctor hurried over to Master Song's side. He waved away the surrounding servants, making room for them. He put his medicine box aside, took out some examination tools, examined Master Song thoroughly, and then put down his stethoscope.

"How is the situation?" Madam Song asked anxiously.

The doctor said slowly, "The gentleman is not seriously injured. He just lost consciousness temporarily due to anger. I will prescribe a medicine for him to decoct and take daily. He will be fully recovered in a week."

Madam Song said impatiently, "Can the master wake up now?"

"This..." The doctor hesitated for a moment, then looked at Songtang and said, "This requires aged ginseng. Cut off a small piece and have the master hold it under his tongue."

Mrs. Song remained silent.

The Song family had only moved to the capital a few years ago, and they lacked the grandeur and prestige of the once-powerful families of the capital. Normally, if the master fell ill, he could secretly search for aged ginseng; but now, in this urgent situation, even the city's pharmacies might not have ginseng of that age, and the mansion's pharmacy had none in stock…

Madam Song gritted her teeth and called to her personal maid, "Go to the pharmacy in the city and buy..."

"How many years old do you need the ginseng for?" Song Tang asked calmly.

Her mother gave a cold laugh, not even looking at her, and urged her own maid, "Go quickly!"

The doctor looked at Madam Song, then at Song Tang, and said, "At least a hundred years."

“I see…” Song Tang lowered his head and smiled, then asked, “I have a ginseng root here that is about an inch long and has been over a hundred years old.”

Madam Song paused.

She turned to Songtang, a gentle smile on her face: "Tangtang, why didn't you say you had ginseng earlier?" She pulled the maid back, her smile like a mask: "Give me the ginseng."

Song Tang looked directly at her calmly: "If you want ginseng, then pay for it."

Madam Song could barely keep her smile going: "Tangtang, give the ginseng to your mother, and I'll give you the money tonight."

Song Tang pursed her lips. She held out her hand and said stubbornly, "Give me the money first, then I'll give it to you."

"How could your mother lie to you?" Madam Song took two steps forward. "You are a piece of my flesh, how could I lie to you?"

"Mother—why are we still here!" The chubby little boy jumped down from the carriage again and asked Madam Song loudly and unhappily, "Didn't you say we were going home to see the schoolteacher?"

The little boy saw Songtang and said disdainfully, "Where did this lowly servant come from? Drag her away and give her a beating, see if she dares to cause trouble here again."

Song Tang's lips curled up slightly.

She felt anger again, something she hadn't felt in a long time.

At first, she wasn't actually angry.

After all, this was her mother, her father, and her twin brother.

They were her blood relatives.

"Tangtang," Madam Song called her again, "We're family, what can't we talk about?"

yes.

What is there that can't be discussed openly?

Song Tang's lips curled down. She looked calmly at Madam Song. The mother who remained in her memory, who would hold her with her warm body and lull her to sleep—was completely dead at this moment.

Only an empty shell remained.

A mere shell clinging to her husband and son, attached to them.

The person who loved her, the one who was actually her mother, is truly dead.

Songtang said, "So Mrs. Song can't come up with the money."

Madam Song was about to scold her for her lack of manners. How could a daughter address her mother like that? But when she saw Song Tang's expression, she closed her mouth again.

She was afraid of her young daughter.

Songtang chuckled softly.

She turned around, took Ai Cao's hand, and said, "I will come to visit again when Master Song is better."

"If you didn't want to see me back then, then there was no need to repair this door."

Song Tang glanced at Madam Song behind her, then at Master Song who was still lying on the ground. She could tell that Master Song wasn't really unconscious, but had used the illusion to escape the chaos.

But how could Master Song—her father—escape?

Songtang is no longer the child who would wait wherever he was abandoned.

She has her own hands and feet.

She can go anywhere she wants.