Chapter 114: Missing the Old Ones
Song Yunhe lowered his eyes and looked at the teacup in his hand, his fingertips unconsciously stroking the rim of the cup, his brows slightly furrowed, and a hint of impatience flashed in his eyes.
This suggestion was truly foolish. The deposed Crown Prince had been out of power for only a month, and everyone in the court was avoiding him, yet she was actually thinking of taking the initiative to get close to him.
He was about to refuse when he suddenly remembered the news that had come in the past few days—His Majesty had rewarded him with precious treasures and granted him land around the palace...
Dusk deepened outside the window, and a few birds returning to their nests flew over the eaves. Song Yunhe's expression shifted slightly. If His Majesty truly cared about their old friendship, it would be reasonable for them to visit him as brothers-in-law.
Thinking about who he might see there, Song Yunhe turned the teacup even faster. Suddenly, Qingwu's figure appeared before his eyes. This spring, under the peach tree in the courtyard, Qingwu smiled at him with her face tilted up. Her eyebrows and eyes were as beautiful as a painting...
"Cousin?" Xi Qingtong's voice interrupted his thoughts. She took the man's arm and looked at Song Yunhe expectantly, her eyes and eyebrows showing unconcealable excitement.
"I'll imitate your dress and manners, so no one will notice. How about we go and take a look? Call your sister outside the palace and talk openly."
Xi Qingtong was not a fool. She knew that someone must be watching the deposed prince, but her Xi family could not cut ties with the deposed prince, so even if she went, it would certainly be expected by everyone.
Song Yunhe lowered his gaze to her carefully painted bright red nails - this alone was different from Qingwu's, but he did not refuse.
"Okay, then pack some gifts and bring them tomorrow."
Xi Qingtong happily agreed, and as she turned to instruct the maid, the rings and bracelets around her waist jingled. She didn't notice at all that her husband's gaze behind her passed through the carved window lattice and fell on the peach tree in the courtyard.
This peach tree was full of fruits last year and has many flowers this year, but now there are only a few green fruits on the tree.
He stared at the peach trees in the distance, lost in thought. Just then, a little maid came in. Dong Ning, carrying a bag of washed clothes, tiptoed into the study. She had changed into a water-green blouse and pinned a freshly picked gardenia in her hair.
"My dear, are your clothes in the mistress's room or in the study?"
Her voice was a little softer than usual, and she stood by the table, holding the folded clothes. The distance was just right, closer than before at the door, but not too close.
Song Yunhe's clothes used to be kept in the study, but after getting married, they were gradually placed in the main house.
Thinking about recent events, the man behind the desk sighed and said, "Put it in the study."
He never looked at her.
A flicker of resentment flashed across Dong Ning's eyes, and her fingers tightened slightly around her clothes. She slowly walked towards the suitcase in the corner of the study, deliberately slowing down her pace with each step, but still failed to earn a glance from Song Yunhe.
The little maid couldn't help feeling a little discouraged - well, even though she was prettier than the average maid, she was still worlds apart from the lady.
She put her clothes into the box with a sheepish look on her face, and her steps when she left were much more agile than when she came in. Just as she passed Song Yunhe's desk again, she suddenly heard a voice from behind: "Wait."
Dong Ning's heart instantly rose. She turned around carefully and met Song Yunhe's gaze.
Song Yunhe's gaze slowly swept over her. The maid before him was no more than sixteen or seventeen years old, fair and delicate. Her aqua-green shirt set off her fair skin, and the gardenia in her hair added a touch of elegance—it was the fragrance of this gardenia that made him call out to Dong Ning.
"What else do you want, sir?"
Song Yunhe didn't answer, but changed the subject and asked, "Your name is... Dong Ning? Who came to our house last winter?"
Hearing the master's question, Dong Ning's heart, which had just deflated, swelled up again. She half-raised her eyes and replied softly, "To answer my lord, that was when I entered the mansion."
The little maid was nervous and her eyelashes were blinking anxiously, which made her look a little cute.
Song Yunhe followed her words and remembered why she came - at that time he was going to marry Qingwu, so he hired a maid to do chores in the mansion.
Thinking of Qing Wu, he regained some patience with the little maid and mentioned the red marks he saw on her face a few days ago: "Where did the red marks on your face come from a few days ago?"
Dong Ning's heart surged with joy, her fingers unconsciously twisting the hem of her clothes. She lowered her eyes, her voice tinged with grievance, "It's...it's my clumsiness that has angered Madam..."
If it were in the past, Song Yunhe would naturally not believe it, but after seeing her stepping on the old housekeeper's hand and speaking ill of him, he was not surprised to hear this now, and even had a premonition.
Seeing Song Yunhe still hadn't said anything, Dong Ning's heart was in turmoil, and she was so scared that she knelt on the ground. She secretly raised her eyes and met Song Yunhe's thoughtful gaze. She quickly lowered her head again, revealing a piece of her white neck.
Song Yunhe was not unfamiliar with the little maid's behavior - when he was feasting with his comrades outside, the singing girls looked at him in the same way, praying that he would take them as concubines.
Because it was so common, Song Yunhe didn't feel angry or offended. He tapped his fingertips on the table and said, "Go to the accounting office and get a tael of silver. Just say it's my reward as compensation."
Dong Ning's face suddenly showed joy, but she still pretended to be frightened: "This... this..."
"Go." Song Yunhe had picked up the notebook again, and his tone returned to normal.
In the dim morning light, Xi Qingtong stood under the peach tree, her light pink silk dress swaying in the wind - it was the same dress that Qingwu had worn before.
Because the workmanship and style were good, Xi Qingtong "mercifully" spared it and put it at the bottom of the box. I just took it out and ironed it yesterday and wore it today.
She deliberately imitated Qingwu's outfit, with a simple and elegant bun, only a few silver hairpins, and her hands folded in front of her.
As Song Yunhe stepped out of the study, he looked up and felt as if he had returned to that spring morning. The same position, the same attire, even the dappled shadows cast by the sunlight filtering through the leaves were remarkably similar.
He paused, his heart skipping a beat: "Qing..."
Before he finished speaking, Xi Qingtong came over with her skirt lifted up, and intimately took Song Yunhe's arm. She opened her red lips and asked in a sweet voice, "Cousin, am I dressed properly like this?"
The man lowered his eyes to look at the girl beside him, staring at her face for a while, and said slowly: "Qingtong... very appropriate."
The face that looked exactly like Qingwu smiled at him, but Song Yunhe knew clearly that she was not Qingwu.
Qingwu never smiled so restrainedly and appropriately. This kind of smile was the behavior of a lady from an aristocratic family, polite and dignified, but... very fake.
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