Song Pu had no idea what Tantai Yi was thinking. If he had, he would likely have laughed in exasperation. Tantai Yi had even gone so far as to issue him an imperial decree; if he gave in now, would that not amount to defying it?
Tantai Yi also had a habit of turning the tables. Even if he felt appeased and softened in the moment, he would very likely bring it up again later. That, however, was secondary. The main point was that Song Pu did not truly wish to remain by Tantai Yi’s side.
At the beginning, he had thought Tantai Yi would kill him sooner or later, so he might as well cultivate a good relationship with him and make himself someone the man would be reluctant to harm. But now… he had finally realised just how difficult that path was.
Since he had the chance to get away, he ought not to hesitate.
By the time he returned to the Song residence, it was already deep into the night.
The gatekeeper was startled to see him and hurriedly sent word to Duke Song and Madam Song, while calling over several servants to carry the trunks.
After a full day in the carriage, Song Pu’s face was deathly pale. The moment he stepped down, he leaned against the banyan tree by the entrance and began retching. Nothing came up but sour bile.
Travelling by carriage in such times was truly miserable. Even with thick blankets laid within, the jolting could not be softened. It felt as though his very organs had been shaken loose. His stomach churned, his head swam, and his backside ached dreadfully, as though the bones themselves had been jarred. Even taking a few steps sent sharp pain through him.
When Duke Song heard that he had returned, he came at once with Madam Song and Song Lingyun, astonishment plain on his face.
“How have you come back so soon?” he asked.
It was Madam Song who first noticed his dreadful complexion. She said reproachfully, “Ah-Pu has travelled all day. Let him eat something and rest properly. This can wait.”
Duke Song immediately agreed. “Quite right. Go and rest first. We will speak tomorrow.”
Even so, while Song Pu went to bathe, Song Lingyun summoned Denglong with a lantern and questioned him.
Denglong himself was confused. “His Majesty said there would be a hunting contest, but for some reason it was cancelled, and the young master was sent back.”
The phrasing made Duke Song and Madam Song’s hearts leap.
Realising his mistake, Denglong hurried to correct himself. “Not sent away. His Majesty meant that the young master need no longer attend upon him. There is even a decree. It is in the young master’s trunk.”
Madam Song exclaimed, “Truly?” Her face lit up at once. “Such a good thing?”
Duke Song and Song Lingyun, however, both frowned.
After the Duke and Madam Song left, Song Lingyun fixed his gaze on Denglong. “Tell me everything that happened after the young master went to the summer estate.”
Denglong obediently recounted all he knew, sparing no detail.
When Song Lingyun heard that the Emperor had summoned his younger brother to his bedchamber in the middle of the night, and that he had not returned the entire night, his expression changed at once.
Seeing his frightening look, Denglong faltered, his voice growing softer until he fell silent and lowered his head uneasily.
“Continue,” Song Lingyun said coldly.
Denglong forced himself to go on. “The young master’s room was next to His Majesty’s. On the first day, His Majesty summoned him over, and the young master did not return that night… The next morning, when I went to attend him, I saw that the wall by his bed had been removed, and His Majesty’s bed had been set right beside it…”
…
“The young master and the others were bathing in the estate when His Majesty saw them. Afterwards, His Majesty punished Young Master Li with thirty strokes, and then the young master was sent back.”
Denglong was not always at his side and knew only what fell within his limited view. As with this matter, he truly did not know the reason. Seeing that Song Pu seemed in decent spirits, he assumed it might even be a good thing.
But to Song Lingyun, it was anything but.
His mind was far more intricate than most, and he thought accordingly. He was convinced his younger brother had suffered a grave grievance. As for what sort, he did not dare imagine. The mere thought set a fire burning within him, scorching him to the core.
“…Watch him closely. Everything he does each day, how he feels, report it all to me,” Song Lingyun said hoarsely.
He did not look at Denglong, yet the chill in his gaze made the latter shudder. He hurriedly agreed.
Only after Song Lingyun left did Denglong finally breathe again.
He was born into the Song household. His parents were long-serving retainers, his father now a steward, his mother attending upon the old matriarch. From them, he had learned certain things and understood why Song Lingyun cared so deeply for his younger brother. Because of that, he admired him all the more, seeing him as a man of genuine feeling and loyalty, worthy of utmost devotion. Thus he obeyed him as though his words were law.
Only… he felt somewhat sorry for the second young master.
…
The next day, with no need to rise early, Song Pu slept until the sun was high. Even after waking, he remained curled beneath the covers, unwilling to get up.
Sleeping in, skipping breakfast, idling in bed. That was the proper life of a university lad. The last part he could not have here, but at least he could indulge in the first two.
He felt an indescribable lightness, as though a heavy burden had been lifted from both body and mind. He had truly come back.
No more early mornings. No more work. No more dealing with an unpredictable superior. No more endless, unpaid toil.
With Duke Song and his elder brother to support him, even if he could not be a student, he could easily live as an idle young master. Life suddenly seemed exceedingly pleasant.
He reached up and touched the raised mark at his neck, and his mood dipped slightly. The damned Emperor still owed him two treasures, and he would likely never see them again.
Never mind. One sapphire was enough.
Perhaps it was because he had spent so long by Tantai Yi’s side, but after confirming that he no longer needed to attend him, there lingered a faint, inescapable melancholy. Still, it could not outweigh the relief of being free, and was soon pushed aside.
Song Pu had said he would laze about, and he did just that, not rising until noon. Denglong called for him several times without success and eventually went to inform Song Lingyun.
By the time Song Pu had dressed and was about to eat, Song Lingyun arrived.
He had just returned, still clad in light silver armour, cutting a striking and gallant figure. It was the first time Song Pu had seen him dressed so, and he could not help reaching out to touch it. “Ge, is it heavy?”
Song Lingyun smiled faintly. “Not at all. Would you like to try?” He began to remove it.
“Never mind, I’ll just look,” Song Pu said quickly.
Song Lingyun then said, “Yesterday you returned in haste, so I did not press you. Now that you are better, can you tell me what happened? Why would His Majesty send you back?”
Song Pu paused before replying, “It’s a long story…”
“Then make it short.”
“…Hard to say. His Majesty is probably tired of me.”
Song Lingyun’s expression shifted slightly. The words carried another meaning in his ears. He forced himself not to pursue it, though unease grew within him. A faint smile tugged at his lips. “So sudden?”
“It is sudden, but not unexpected. The Emperor’s will is unfathomable. It was bound to happen sooner or later. It has only come earlier.”
A trace of dejection surfaced on Song Pu’s face.
Song Lingyun saw it clearly. He reached out and clasped his hand, smiling. “This is a good thing. Now that you are no longer at His Majesty’s side, you may settle down. I will have Mother look for suitable matches. You need not take office. Just remain at home and live a steady life.”
As he spoke, a note of anticipation crept into his voice. “Mother prefers a girl from a great family, but I think your temperament is too gentle. Those noble ladies are often proud. A girl from a smaller household would suit you better, someone you can manage. There would be more choice as well. If you are willing, you could marry this year, and have a child next year.”
This was the future he wished for him. Nothing grand, only peace and contentment.
“I don’t want to marry,” Song Pu said.
Song Lingyun froze for a moment, then composed himself. “Why?”
“It’s too early. Even ten years from now would not be too late.”
He was not ready. His parents had once been deeply in love, yet over time had come to quarrel over trifles. That had left him quietly resistant to marriage. He had no confidence in such a future, nor the conviction that he could be a good husband or father.
Perhaps he had idealised it too much, and so did not dare approach it, for fear of disillusion. But this was something Song Lingyun could not understand.
In Yanjing, marriage came later than elsewhere. Women could wed at eighteen, nineteen, even into their twenties. Men likewise, though most married around eighteen or nineteen.
Song Lingyun was already twenty-three, considered somewhat late. His mother had repeatedly tried to withdraw his betrothal, yet he insisted on waiting.
Such cases were rare. At seventeen, Song Pu ought already to be engaged, yet he spoke of waiting ten years with complete seriousness.
Song Lingyun’s temper was ordinarily steady, but where Song Pu was concerned, it was easily stirred. Suppressing his agitation, he asked quietly, “Is it because of His Majesty that you do not wish to marry?”
