Chapter 115

Rong Tang sat at the dining table, persistently rolling up his sleeves, determined to show Wang Xiuyu the flesh he had gained on his arms.

If the era weren’t so conservative, he would have even shown her his stomach!

But Wang Xiuyu merely cast him a fleeting glance before calling for Rong Zheng.

The second young master greeted his mother in confusion, then obediently followed her instructions, rolling up his sleeves and placing his arm next to Rong Tang’s for comparison.

[It’s a tree trunk and a twig, Tangtang,] the system remarked coolly.

Rong Tang fell silent for two seconds before wilting and lowering his arms.

[And let’s not forget, one is a healthy wheat colour, while the other is the pale shade of a weak chicken,] the system added.

Rong Tang seethed. “You’re the only one with a mouth, aren’t you?”

The system chuckled twice before tactfully stepping aside.

Su Huaijing saw his little Buddha looking utterly defeated. He tried to hold it in, he really did. But in the end, he couldn’t help himself. He turned his head away and let out a low chuckle.

Rong Tang couldn’t vent his frustration on the system, nor could he talk back to the Wang Fei. Su Huaijing’s laughter was the perfect trigger for his outrage.

The young Shizi’s brows knitted together, his eyes widened in fury, and he glared fiercely at Su Huaijing, gearing up to intimidate him!

The main villain merely smiled, raising a brow as he handed Rong Tang a cup of tea. In a half-serious, half-teasing tone, he murmured, “What’s going on? You lot just love picking on me. Am I the easiest target in the whole world?”

“It’s your own fault for making false accusations!” Rong Tang shot back, indignant. He had eaten plenty, and he had clearly gained weight—he was even two or three centimetres taller than in his previous two lives! Yet Su Huaijing was smearing his name with baseless claims!

This was defamation!

“You go and explain to my mother that I’ve been eating and sleeping just fine!” He was twenty-years-old, yet in her eyes, he was still a child.

And if he counted all the years he had lived over his various lifetimes, he wasn’t even that much younger than Wang Xiuyu.

Su Huaijing raised a brow. “Oh? And how exactly should I explain it? Should I tell her that Tangtang sleeps in my bed every night, kicks the covers off when he’s warm, and burrows into my arms when he’s cold? That every morning, his leg is draped over me, and when he’s sick and on medication, he just ignores me entirely? That the moment he stirs awake, he scurries off and leaves me to deal with the mess?”

Rong Tang’s face burned crimson.

Su Huaijing added slowly with the utmost seriousness, as though he were discussing matters of state, “Do I not have any dignity?”

[Oh ho~ This is blatant retaliation~] the system remarked gleefully as it settled in to enjoy the show.

Rong Tang was completely stuck. With no better plan, he resorted to his best escape strategy—turning his head away. But for some reason, his gaze flickered downward for a split second before he yanked it back, as if scalded.

Su Huaijing let out a muffled chuckle but didn’t tease him any further. Instead, his gaze drifted towards the doorway, his expression unreadable.

Rong Mingyu, ever occupied with official duties, was always the last to arrive. By the time he entered, the sun had long disappeared beyond the horizon, leaving only the last traces of dusk.

Though the Eldest Princess never partook in dinner, she still took a seat at the table, a bowl of cooling soup placed before her.

Midway through the banquet, as if just remembering something, she asked offhandedly, “Is Madam Qian due to give birth soon?”

The clinking of bowls and chopsticks came to an abrupt halt. The air grew thick with unspoken thoughts, the tension so palpable that even the sound of breathing was distinct. A mere glance at anyone’s face could offer enough material to compile an entire book on micro-expressions.

Rong Tang only cast a glance at Wang Xiuyu before lowering his head and silently spooning his soup.

Rong Mingyu set down his chopsticks, maintaining the same respectful composure he always did in front of his mother. It was so much that he could have been painted into a tableau of filial piety. “Mother, the physician checks her pulse daily. He says she will most likely go into labour within seven days.”

“Did he mention whether it’s a boy or a girl?” Duanyi asked pointedly.

Rong Mingyu replied, “The pulse indicates a male foetus.”

“Good.” Duanyi nodded, her expression dignified and inscrutable, revealing nothing of her true thoughts.

Rong Yuan, who had been growing increasingly complacent of late, rarely had the opportunity to dine with his zumu. Seizing the moment, he smiled and suggested, “It’s been years since a younger sibling was born in the household. If zumu doesn’t mind, why not bestow a nickname upon him?”

The moment those words left his lips, the others at the table exchanged subtle glances, but no one spoke.

Rong Zheng’s expression shifted, and he locked eyes with Rong Ning. The latter, wearing a look of disdain, shot Rong Yuan a glance before shaking her head at her brother.

Su Huaijing, observing this exchange, silently crossed out the assessment in his mind that Rong Ning was naive.

Duke Ningxuan’s household would never raise idle dreamers. She wasn’t naive. She was simply an astute survivor.

Su Huaijing turned to call Shuang Shou over, instructing him to serve Rong Tang another bowl of rice.

Rong Tang hesitated briefly. As the undercurrents swirled beneath the surface of the table, he took two seconds to weigh his options… then, without another word, he lowered his head and dug into his meal. For a fleeting moment, he felt a deep kinship with young Excellency Lu.

Duanyi cast Rong Yuan a heavy look and stated flatly, “It’s not appropriate.”

She didn’t even bother fabricating an excuse… just three blunt words. Not a single person at the table dared to argue. Rong Mingyu even shot Rong Yuan a glare. “Where have all your studies gone? How could you trouble zumu with such a triviality?”

Rong Yuan paled and hurriedly stood to apologise.

Duanyi waved it off. “No matter. I only brought it up because the other day at Tuolan Temple, Ying drew a lot, and the master interpreting it casually asked whether our household was expecting an honoured birth.”

The Eldest Princess was a seasoned figure who had navigated the treacherous waters of the imperial court for decades. With her stature and experience, she effortlessly steered the conversation, linking two seemingly unrelated matters in just a few words.

Rong Tang glanced at the Wang Fei and caught a fleeting moment of surprise in her eyes at the mention of the tiger zodiac. But just as quickly, she regained her usual calm and poised composure, as if nothing had unsettled her at all.

He felt a twinge of confusion. Beneath the table, Su Huaijing reached over and gave his hand a light squeeze.

By the time dinner concluded, night had fully descended. Wang Xiuyu kept Rong Tang at the manor to rest, while Su Huaijing was summoned to the study by Duke Ningxuan.

With only three members of the household currently serving in official positions, the lecture from an elder was to be expected.

Su Huaijing listened respectfully, neither overly submissive nor arrogant, enduring Duke Ningxuan’s sporadic musings. He sometimes engaged in conversation when the elder was interested, sometimes being left to cool his heels when he wasn’t. After over an hour, Rong Mingyu finally let out a yawn.

Seizing the moment, Su Huaijing promptly rose to take his leave. The instant he stepped out of the study, he let his guard down ever so slightly.

The stars and moon hung in the sky, and the summer night was filled with the lingering hum of cicadas. Su Huaijing walked along the pebbled path towards Tanghua Courtyard. Just as he rounded a corner, he caught sight of someone pacing back and forth along the garden path, occasionally stomping their feet and hopping lightly.

Tall and slender, his frame frail as if he might vanish at any moment under the moonlight. Who else could it be but Rong Tang?

Su Huaijing froze for a moment before quickly striding over, instinctively fanning him with his hand. “What are you doing here?”

Rong Tang turned his head and replied as naturally as ever, “Waiting for you. He didn’t give you a hard time, did he?”

Su Huaijing’s heart warmed, and he shook his head.

Rong Tang let out a sigh of relief, his composed facade instantly crumbling as he furrowed his brows. “Then hurry up and go back! The mosquitoes are eating me alive!”

Su Huaijing: “…?”

The main villain was utterly exasperated.

Luckily, summer nights were always swarming with mosquitoes. Whenever he went out, Su Huaijing made sure to carry a special ointment with him, lest his little ancestor got bitten and ended up scratching himself raw.

So after a brief moment of surprise, he didn’t even hesitate. He simply crouched down, his robe skimming the pebbles, and gently lifted the hem of Rong Tang’s garment.

As soon as he opened the ointment, a fresh scent of grass filled the air. Su Huaijing carefully massaged the swollen bites while chiding him in a deliberately light tone. “It’s hot and stuffy. What possessed you to come out and get yourself covered in bites? Doesn’t it itch?”

Rong Tang dodged the real question with a lazy response: “It does.”

Su Huaijing waited for him to elaborate. He waited for ages. But Rong Tang said nothing more.

Irritated yet amused, Su Huaijing shot him a glare from below. “I suppose I’ll only hear you honestly admit that you like me when I’m six feet under, won’t I?”

If Xingfeng were here, his eyes would probably fall out of their sockets.

In all these years, even when his master was just eight… who had ever heard him speak like this?

Frustrated yet stifled, pleased yet aggrieved…

Contradictory to the core.

Rong Tang rubbed his nose and averted his gaze.

Su Huaijing finished applying the ointment and, while at it, smoothed a thin layer over the exposed skin on Rong Tang’s wrist. Then, lowering his hand, he took Rong Tang’s in his own and led him back towards the courtyard.

The moonlight was as gentle as flowing water, the heavy rain still holding back. Yet, the wind had begun to rise, rustling through the grass, carrying the thick scent of damp earth.

Rong Tang asked, “What did he talk to you about?”

“Some trivial court affairs and how we’ve been doing outside,” Su Huaijing replied.

He had to admit it. Rong Mingyu was a clever man. He wanted information on the Imperial Censorate’s movements, yet from start to finish, he never pressed directly. Instead, he would casually drop a word or two in passing, luring Su Huaijing into revealing something inadvertently.

Su Huaijing saw through it all… but he rather enjoyed playing along. Not a single word he fed Rong Mingyu was a lie.

With a chuckle, he added, “Duke Ningxuan also mentioned that the Wang Fei misses you. She might move to Yong’an Lane to stay with us for a while in the coming days.”

Rong Tang let out a derisive laugh. “How thorough of him.”

If she truly missed him, it would be much simpler and far more proper for her to call her eldest son back to the residence rather than moving out herself.

He strode forward, head lowered in thought. Recalling Wang Xiuyu’s glance during dinner, he frowned slightly. “Why did Mother look like she had already guessed this would happen?”

Su Huaijing: “She probably just realised her husband is unreliable.”

When it came to matters of importance, his wife was always the first person Rong Mingyu was willing to sacrifice. The truly pitiful thing was that Wang Xiuyu had known this for a long time… yet she still couldn’t help but hold onto hope every now and then.

A dull weight settled in Rong Tang’s chest, but he held back from speaking too harshly. After all, Wang Xiuyu was his mother.

He mulled it over, then met Su Huaijing’s gaze and declared solemnly, “But I am reliable.”

Su Huaijing was taken aback for a second before realising that Rong Tang meant it in more ways than one—as a son, and as a husband.

But he just couldn’t resist. His gaze lazily dropped downward, and his mouth ran ahead of his brain. “Mmm, reliable enough to be soft.”

Rong Tang: “…?”

Rong Tang: “…!”

His expression shifted from shock to disbelief, face alternating between red and pale, before he finally ground his teeth in fury. “What the hell is going on in that head of yours?!”

Su Huaijing looked thoroughly aggrieved. “Tangtang, you know I’m only eighteen.”

He sighed. “Isn’t it perfectly natural for me to be full of youthful vigour?”

—

Susu: “Can someone please explain how I ended up in this predicament? My husband swans around in front of me every single day, yet I can’t lay a finger on him.”

Honestly, a teenage boy’s *ahem* is harder than diamonds. (*cough* not that kind of hard.)