"You recognize Yingying?"
Feng Shaocheng feigned surprise, then smiled gently. "Since it's from the past, knowing Yingying was taking care of you puts my mind at ease."
Song Qingchao felt a wave of disdain.
If Su Yingying had truly been taking care of her, she would have barely survived, if at all.
Moreover, she no longer needed anyone else's care.
But she couldn't directly refuse Feng Shaocheng's "kindness."
She simply hummed a soft "Mm," then asked, "I am rather curious how she ended up with you?"
Feng Shaocheng chuckled, then patiently explained, "After you left, I would often visit the Marquis of Zhennan's manor. I saw her there several times, and thinking she, like me, was reminiscing about the past, I kept her by my side as a maid."
Song Qingchao again hummed softly, "That's for the best."
What else could she say?
In her past life, Feng Shaocheng had also deceived her in the same way, and hadn't she ended up becoming a concubine in his manor?
She reached out and picked up a piece of osmanthus cake, unconcerned about poison.
If Su Yingying were to poison her in front of Feng Shaocheng, she would have to be utterly foolish.
She took a bite. It was soft, glutinous, and delightfully sweet without being cloying.
Su Yingying's pastries were indeed exquisite.
"Your skills are as good as ever."
Song Qingchao dabbed her mouth with a handkerchief, then leaned softly towards Feng Shaocheng. "Do you remember the pastries I always sent you? They were actually made by Yingying."
She emphasized the word "Yingying" with a delicate, ambiguous tone, her voice sweet enough to melt one's heart.
"At that time, Mother wasn't feeling well and had no appetite. It was thanks to Yingying's care."
As she spoke, she grew somber, tears welling up in her eyes.
"It's just a pity that Mother passed away. I've been worried that the servants might be implicated without their mistress, but now it's fine. Knowing you're looking after them, I can finally rest easy."
Feng Shaocheng also spoke in a low, soothing tone.
Wiping her tears, she reached out for Su Yingying.
Su Yingying's gums nearly burst with frustration, but she could only smile back.
Song Qingchao was relentless, grabbing Su Yingying's hand and patting it repeatedly until Su Yingying's hand was red.
"Now that you're by Shaocheng's side, even as a mere servant, it's better than being abandoned on the streets."
"It's alright, Yingying is living well now. You don't need to trouble yourself so much."
Feng Shaocheng pulled her arm, drawing her back.
Song Qingchao stopped bothering Su Yingying and sat back down.
"Drink some tea. Yingying specially brewed it for you."
Song Qingchao eyed Yan Huaili, thinking, *Your Yingying wants nothing more than to poison me.*
But she said, "Thank you, sister."
She looked at the tea being offered, frowned, but still pinched her nose and drank it down.
This was the so-called "love."
Love that didn't even know she disliked tea.
Song Qingchao took a few sips, while on the other side, she discreetly put away the items Bai Youan had given her into her space.
Before long, a piercing pain began to spread from her heart.
She sprayed the tea directly onto Feng Shaocheng's face, then began to cough violently.
The bowl she held scattered its contents all over Feng Shaocheng.
Song Qingchao clutched at her chest and tugged at Feng Shaocheng's shoulder.
She wished she could devour Feng Shaocheng whole.
Feeling a metallic taste in her throat, she immediately covered her mouth with a handkerchief, coughed forcefully, and then collapsed weakly onto the bed. Her dangling hand opportunely revealed the bloodstained handkerchief to Feng Shaocheng.
Feng Shaocheng and Su Yingying were instantly thrown into a state of panic by her actions.
Feng Shaocheng cried out, "Physician!" with utmost concern.
Seeing their reactions, Song Qingchao couldn't help but want to laugh, but she feigned half-closed eyes.
"Shaocheng, I'm alright."
She coughed, pulling at Feng Shaocheng, trying to stop him from leaving.
Feng Shaocheng was so scared he wished he could bind a physician and bring him here immediately.
"Chaocao, don't be afraid. The doctor is here."
Her ashen face was enough to shock anyone.
Indeed, when the physician, carrying his medicine box, rushed in, he was so startled by her complexion that he was speechless, even frozen in place.
It was only when Feng Shaocheng roared at him that he finally reacted and began to take her pulse.
Song Qingchao certainly didn't want to be force-fed a bowl of medicinal soup for such a minor issue.
Seeing the physician's grim expression.
Song Qingchao quietly retrieved Bai Youan's belongings again.
Her complexion quickly regained its color.
This caused the physician's face to darken further.
Song Qingchao took the opportunity to cover for the physician, "Shaocheng, I'm fine. It's an old ailment."
The physician seemed to be thoroughly embarrassed.
He couldn't diagnose any illness, nor could he offer treatment; the patient who was seemingly on the brink of death had inexplicably recovered.
"May I ask, Young Master Feng, did this young lady consume anything cold?"
Feng Shaocheng frowned. "She only ate a piece of pastry and drank some tea."
He directly handed over the bowl, now wiped clean.
The physician took it, glancing at the remaining residue, and declared, "It must be this. The young lady has a weak constitution and cannot consume things that are too cold."
Upon hearing this, Feng Shaocheng turned to look at the timid Su Yingying.
"Is Chaocao alright now?"
The physician nodded. "It was just a temporary acute episode. She will recover with rest. I will prescribe some medicine, and she must rest well afterward."
Song Qingchao chimed in, propping herself up with her arms as if to get up.
Feng Shaocheng rushed over to support her in alarm.
"It's my body that's failing me. Yingying meant well; you mustn't blame her."
Feng Shaocheng gently soothed, "I know. You rest well."
His tone shifted. "Yingying was in the Song manor for so long, and yet she doesn't remember her mistress's taboos. She deserves to be punished."
"No, cough, cough." Song Qingchao quickly clasped his hand. "I truly don't blame Yingying. It's all my fault..."
She spoke with such pitiable vulnerability.
Her entire being was like a willow branch in summer, easily snapped with a gentle bend.
Su Yingying, terrified, fell to her knees with a thud.
"Mistress, it is all this servant's fault. Please punish me."
With another resounding clang.
She kowtowed heavily.
Song Qingchao, leaning against the head of the bed, watched the kneeling figure on the ground with indifference.
Feng Shaocheng was enraged and intended to punish Su Yingying, but Song Qingchao stopped him.
"Shaocheng, I'm tired," Song Qingchao said, closing her eyes. She couldn't bear to look at their ugly faces any longer.
"Alright."
Feng Shaocheng was always gentle with her.
"You rest well. You don't need to worry about anything else."
Song Qingchao nodded in acknowledgment.
Then, she heard Feng Shaocheng tell Su Yingying to get out.
Su Yingying scurried out with a look of utter dejection.
As she ran out, she bumped into soldiers entering, falling down again with a solid thud.
The soldiers had no time to attend to her.
"Adjutant, the medicinal supplies have been tallied. The general awaits your presence."
Feng Shaocheng nodded and briefly instructed Song Qingchao.
The implication was clear: "You are not to go anywhere."
Song Qingchao nodded obediently.
It wasn't yet her time to act.
After the two unlucky stars had departed, Song Qingchao was about to stretch and burrow into the blankets to rest.
The flap of the tent was lifted again.
She turned over impatiently, "What is it now?"
But to her surprise, the person who entered was not Feng Shaocheng.
"Nothing much, I just came to see you."
This voice...
Why was Bai Youan here!?