Feng Shaocheng took the shawl from the young servant and draped it over Song Qingchao's shoulders.
Song Qingchao felt a mountain press down on her shoulders, suffocating her.
"I want to go home."
She clutched the front of her clothes and forced herself to look up at Feng Shaocheng.
His eyes were downcast, his face filled with shame, even his shoulders sagged. He only managed two words: "No."
Song Qingchao glanced at the hand on her shoulder and said faintly, "Let go."
"Chaichao," Feng Shaocheng's voice softened.
Song Qingchao gave him no further opportunity. She raised her hand to brush him away, but he caught it instead.
The pain in her wrist shot through her entire body like an electric current.
She was held captive, pushed against the wall.
The grit on the wall scraped mercilessly against her lower back, causing her brows to furrow uncontrollably.
"Be good, I'm doing this for your own good."
Feng Shaocheng chuckled softly, his breath washing over her face.
"For... my... good?"
Song Qingchao stared at him, enunciating each word, her eyes filled with a dim, inscrutable confusion.
His smile was warm and refined, without a hint of flaw.
In her past life, she had believed him.
But what had been the result?
She had merely been a golden canary he kept!
He had broken her wings, imprisoned her in a dark courtyard. When her family was ruined and she had no one but him to depend on, he had pushed her into the abyss. Feng Shaocheng, I cannot afford your kindness this time.
The corner of her mouth curved into a smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. Her voice, soft yet icy, said, "Feng Shaocheng, I don't need you to be good to me."
Song Qingchao gritted her teeth, freeing her hand from his grip, and shoved him in the chest, "This is where we part ways!"
What is not decisively cut off will inevitably cause trouble.
Some things are best stopped at the source.
She turned to leave, but her wrist was ensnared again. It was bone-chillingly cold, like a sticky viper wrapping around her slender wrist, its venomous tongue licking her hand.
"What are you doing?"
Song Qingchao felt a chill run down her spine.
But the strength between men and women was inherently unequal, not to mention her constitution. If she forced herself, her heart meridian might be harmed.
Feng Shaocheng sighed, "It's raining heavily outside."
Song Qingchao's eyelashes fluttered. She looked up at the dark sky, her voice starting to tremble, "Let go."
She began to struggle, tugging at Feng Shaocheng's sleeve, tears filling her eyes.
Mother and son alike would not let her go.
She wanted to gamble. If Feng Shaocheng really let her go, it would mean she had nothing to do with the Feng family. If he still...
"Chaichao, you'll lose your life if you go back!"
Feng Shaocheng's voice was laced with forbearance and anger, his hand trembling as he gripped hers.
Song Qingchao was stunned, looking at Feng Shaocheng's reddened eyes in disbelief.
Could it be that her mother and younger brother were already...
She released his sleeve, covering her mouth to stifle any sound.
"Your father secretly harbored letters from the traitorous Bai family and harbored the son of a convicted official. The crime of colluding with the enemy and treason is irrefutable. If you return, your only fates will be to become a courtesan or be exiled."
Feng Shaocheng moved closer and pulled her hand away.
Song Qingchao felt as though the restraint on her wrist was not a hand, but chains.
"Courtesan sounds nice, but ultimately, they are servants. Exile? To the extreme cold of Mobei, can your body withstand it?" Feng Shaocheng gritted his teeth. "Moreover, your father has accumulated many grievances. Can you truly reach Mobei?"
He still had his handsome features, but his words were far from bright.
He raised his hand, his palm touching her face, his words seducing her, "Stay here, and I can protect you."
Song Qingchao sneered, "Then what about my mother and younger brother?"
In her past life, her father had been missing for five full years. If she hadn't seen him in Mobei before his death, she wouldn't have dared to believe her father was still alive, especially since treason was a capital offense.
"Them?" Feng Shaocheng raised an eyebrow. "I will naturally save them, but you must stay here."
Song Qingchao slapped his hand away. "What if I don't?"
"Do you really think you can leave?"
Song Qingchao bit her lip and retreated, rushing quickly into the rain. The previously deserted path was suddenly lined with men holding wooden sticks.
Her shoulders were hunched, her hands clenched by her sides. She turned her head, her eyes red, tears mingling with the rain.
"Shaocheng, do you truly intend to be like this?"
Feng Shaocheng stood under the covered pavilion, holding a fan. "Stop struggling."
"You will regret this."
Song Qingchao said, then covered her chest and spat out a mouthful of blood, but a wicked smile touched her lips. "How could you forget, I am a proud daughter of heaven, a martial prodigy?"
Her posture was graceful, her movements agile. In a few swift moves, she broke through the encirclement, showing no sign of frailty.
Song Qingchao, clutching her chest, escaped the Feng manor. Glancing back, she saw Feng Shaocheng frown and pursue her, only to stand in the rain and crush his fan.
The jade green bracelet on her wrist flashed red, and the space was rapidly consuming her life force.
But her vision blurred. She forcefully wiped the rain from her face but still couldn't see the path clearly.
"Mother, Mumu..."
She crashed into someone's chest with a thud, knocking their umbrella away.
"I'm sorry."
The person was quick-witted. With a long arm, they pulled her into their embrace, spun around, and grabbed the oil-paper umbrella floating in the air.
"It's slippery on rainy days, young lady, please don't rush."
A warm voice sounded from above. Song Qingchao looked up, but saw only a blur. The umbrella handle was pressed into her hand.
The bamboo handle tapped the blood-stained bracelet on her wrist with a clear "ding."
She lowered her head again. Her blurred vision gradually cleared. A slender hand with well-defined joints held her small hand, and his little finger was resting on her jade green bracelet.
"I'll give this umbrella to you."
The knot of anger in Song Qingchao's chest suddenly loosened, leaving her momentarily stunned. It wasn't until the man left that she snapped back to reality and hurried after him, only to see a corner of his robe.
She stopped, holding the umbrella, and stroked the bracelet on her wrist, murmuring to herself, "How could he be unharmed?"
In her heart, she felt that the recovery of her body was related to this umbrella.
After a moment of concentration, she turned and ran in the opposite direction.
Please, don't let anything happen!
The rain grew heavier.
Yet, Song Qingchao felt clearer than ever before.
Getting closer.
The pounding rain could not drown out the murmuring discussions.
"Did the Song family offend someone?"
"Could it be Young Master Feng? I heard his proposal was rejected again recently. Perhaps love turned to hate."
"Go away, go away. What do you know? Madam Song and Madam Bai from back then..." The person lowered their voice, but Song Qingchao still heard, "had a childhood engagement with Madam Bai."
"Hey! That's not something to be mentioned!" Another person sighed, their voice filled with terror. "What happened eighteen years ago, if you talk about it, you could lose your head!"
"The eldest daughter is sickly, and the eldest son is no martial arts talent. In recent years, he has rarely left his study. I didn't expect the Song family to still not escape it. How pitiful."
The rising sighs and exclamations made Song Qingchao's heart grow heavier.
The Bai family...
She gripped the umbrella handle tightly, shouting "Excuse me" as she quickly pushed through the crowd.
"Eldest Young Lady!"
"The Song family's eldest young lady is back!"