The carriage arrived in Chang'an about ten days later.
The weather wasn't very good that day; it rained all day and only gradually stopped in the evening.
The carriage stopped at the gate of the Song residence, where a steward hurriedly came out to greet them and waited respectfully to one side.
"grown ups."
Except for a period of time five years ago when Song Ting was in poor health and had to travel by carriage, he always rode a horse when he went out.
Now, the old steward couldn't help but feel a little worried as he looked at the carriage in front of him.
He asked Qi Zhou with concern, "Is the master injured?"
Qi Zhou said, "No."
Xiao Wu smiled and said, "No."
As they were talking, Song Ting lifted the curtain and leaned out of the carriage, jumping out first. The butler quickly went to greet her.
But the former raised his hand to stop him: "No need."
Song Ting glanced at the steward only once before focusing on the carriage, her voice softening as she said, "Get down, be careful."
The steward then noticed that there was another person in the carriage, and his master reached out and carefully helped the person down.
The level of care was as if the person were some rare treasure.
The old butler, who had spent most of his life serving others, was a cunning old fox. He immediately became indifferent and stood quietly to one side.
Huaiyue's hand was still resting on Song Ting's palm. When she saw the mansion in front of her, her fingers tightened incessantly, and her nails almost dug deep into Song Ting's palm.
"you……"
He glanced at Song Ting, then looked back at the vermilion and gold-lacquered plaque on the door, and finally couldn't maintain his calm expression.
He raised his arm and slapped Song Ting hard across the face, saying, "Why don't you just die?"
Huaiyue had told Song Ting to die many times, but this was the first time she had done it in front of so many people. The housekeeper and Xiao Wu were all shocked and stared at Huaiyue in horror.
Xiao Wu had a short temper. He immediately drew the long sword from his waist, his eyes wide with anger: "How dare you!"
"Step back!" Song Ting turned around coldly. The warning was directed at Xiao Wu.
"But sir..." Xiao Wu was still unconvinced, but Qi Zhou grabbed his arm and pulled him back forcefully.
At this moment, Song Ting only had eyes for Huaiyue and had no intention of arguing with him.
Huaiyue's eyes were bloodshot, and she bit her lip tightly, her gaze towards Song Ting filled with hatred and resentment.
"How dare you...how dare you..."
"Song Ting, you are really... really wonderful!"
He was on the verge of a breakdown, his body swayed several times, and he almost lost his footing.
Song Ting was afraid he would fall, so she reached out to help him, but Huai Yue pushed her away forcefully: "Get lost!"
Xiao Wu and the others had already been driven away by Song Ting, leaving only the two of them at the door. Song Ting stood protectively around him, her eyes filled with sorrow.
"It's not what you think, I just..."
"But what?" Chu Huaixu suddenly looked up, his face filled with hatred and ruthlessness. "You wouldn't be suggesting that you're staying here because of me, would you?"
Song opened her mouth, her expression revealing a hint of helplessness.
Chu Huaixu hated seeing him like this the most. Back then, he had been deceived by this person with such an innocent and pitiful expression.
He cherished this person dearly, giving him his heart and soul, only to be met with the destruction of his family and the loss of his loved ones in return.
All sixty-five people in the Prince Duan's household died because of him.
Not only did Song Ting, this swindler, rise to power by stepping on the corpses of his parents and brothers, but he also brazenly moved into the Duan Prince's Mansion, turning it into the "Song Mansion".
That's... such a cruel heart.
What a brilliant tactic!
As expected of... Commander.
Huaiyue sneered: "Lord Song truly lives up to his reputation as the favorite minister of those two in the palace. Only a pillar of the state like you deserves such immense favor."
He seemed to have suppressed his resentment, his voice soft and gentle, his tone even calm.
However, it dealt a heavy blow to Song Ting, who couldn't withstand such questioning and couldn't refute a single word.
The summer night breeze brought a touch of coolness, and Huaiyue's clothes were blown by the wind. He was too thin, and his clothes looked empty underneath.
After the wind passed, the fabric clung to his back, revealing its sharp curves, making him look as thin as a bamboo stalk that had endured much wind and frost.
"That's not how it is." Song Ting repeated herself one last time.
Such an explanation was so weak and feeble that Huaiyue didn't even bother to listen.
He suddenly took a few steps forward, almost touching Song Ting, and lowered his eyes slightly, his gaze level with the man's.
A layer of moisture unconsciously welled up in his scarlet eyes, but his gaze remained fierce and sinister.
"Song Ting." He called out this name, each word seeming to roll countless times on the tip of his tongue before slowly uttering it, "I'm going to kill you."
Song Ting gently shook her head, as if pleading, "I can't yet—"
Before he could finish speaking, he felt a sudden, sharp pain in his chest.
His years of experience living on the edge of a knife had long since made him aware of danger, and his hand instinctively reached out to strike back.
In fact, no one has been able to get this close and injure him for many years.
But when he saw Huaiyue's eyes filled with hatred, he forced himself to hold back.
His gaze slowly lowered, and he saw the cold dagger stuck in his chest.
The hands holding it were so beautiful that Song Ting really wanted to bend down and kiss them.
He thought it and he did it. He placed one palm on the back of Huaiyue's hand, slowly lowered his head, and gave Huaiyue a kiss through his hand.
"This little bit of strength can't kill me."
Blood seeped from between their palms. Song Ting curled her lips and gazed into Huaiyue's eyes, her tone as gentle as if she were speaking sweet nothings.
"You need to use force and aim accurately."
Huaiyue's hands trembled violently, but she still exerted force, gritting her teeth and fiercely pushing the dagger into the man's chest.
Song Ting shook her head with heartache: "You can't do this, you can't kill me like this... It's not enough, Mingyu..."
His dark eyes churned with intense emotions, as if he wanted to devour Huaiyue.
It was so heavy.
So deep.
He was clearly the ungrateful one, yet the pain in his eyes was so profound.
Huaiyue's emotions collapsed even more under such stimulation, and she could barely hold the dagger in her hand.
He wanted to escape, but Song Ting was still holding his hand, and he didn't want his enemy to see his cowardice.
That's not how he should look.
He then closed his eyes briefly, before raising his brimming, watery gaze and questioning Song Ting sharply:
"Your memory is truly remarkable. Have you already forgotten who turned me into this after only five years?"
"Back in that death row cell, who crippled my martial arts skills, and who severed my tendons, turning me into this useless cripple?"
"Sir, you have held a high position all these years, and the number of innocent souls under your command must be countless. You have probably long forgotten about these things, haven't you?"
"I haven't forgotten." Song Ting closed his eyes briefly, then opened them again, his eyes bloodshot and menacing. He repeated, his expression twisted, "I haven't forgotten, I haven't... dared not forget for even a moment..."
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