Chapter 28 - Waking Up

  Xie shi’s hand trembled as she poured tea, nearly jumping in surprise. “Eldest Miss? Why are you here?”

  Her quarters were near the back gate. By all reason, this was the bride’s first return after marriage—she should have been well received at home, with Shen shi and Jiang shi staying with her to share intimate words. Song Chaoxi shouldn’t have had time to come here so soon. And judging from her appearance, she hadn’t come through the front gate, but the back.

  A newlywed, the dignified wife of a Duke, had actually returned home through the back door—how disgraceful! Xie shi had no daughter, but if she did, she’d surely have doted on her. It was hard enough for a married daughter to come home—if her natal family wouldn’t be her support, the least they could do was not treat her so poorly. How could Shen shi, as a mother, be so heartless?

  Song Chengyu also straightened up, looking nervously at his elder sister. Song Chaoxi gnced at him and gave a slight nod.

  Song Chengyu gripped the arms of his chair, spine taut, so nervous he forgot how to breathe.

  Xie shi asked curiously, “Eldest Miss, is everything going well at the Duke’s manor? Why have you come to see me so soon?”

  Song Chaoxi nodded. “Everything’s fine. Don’t worry, Concubine Mother. I came to treat my younger brother’s legs.”

  Xie shi froze, thinking she’d misheard. Treat his legs? Did she mean it the way she thought?

  Without further expnation, Song Chaoxi opened her yered medical kit, pulled out a wrist pad, pced it under Chengyu’s arm, and began taking his pulse. Chengyu was stunned. He held his breath, not daring to disrupt her. This big sister really was as graceful and unconventional as Concubine Mother had said—not like other boudoir girls. He was just a humble illegitimate son—how could he be worth her concern? His crippled body was beyond cure. He didn’t want her to think he was useless on top of that, so he tried hard to behave and cooperate.

  It seemed big sister knew some medicine. But she’d be disappointed—his father had once cared greatly for him. Though a concubine’s son could never compare to a legitimate one, the family’s education had always been strict. His Concubine Mother had pinned her hopes on him getting a degree. Everyone had said he was clever and bound to top the imperial exams. He had high hopes, but it had all turned to nothing after he fell off that horse.

  His father had hired many renowned doctors, but they’d all said the same thing—his legs were done for. He could never take the exams. One moment he’d been a spirited youth, and the next, a cripple. At first he couldn’t accept it and kept hoping for a miracle. But as the years passed, time dulled his edge and made him accept the truth.

  He was already a cripple. Big sister was bound to be disappointed.

  After checking his pulse, Song Chaoxi remained composed. She raised her brows and gave Chengyu a look. “Brother, take your pants off.”

  Xie shi: “…”

  Song Chengyu: “…”

  How odd. As a physician, her words weren’t inappropriate, but paired with her expression, it sounded like she was teasing a decent young man.

  Chengyu blushed to the tips of his ears. With trembling fingers, he began to lift his robe. His shes quivered and his head stayed low—he didn’t dare look her in the eyes.

  Song Chaoxi grew impatient and directly yanked his pants down. Because he still wore a long outer robe, there was no risk of exposure. And as siblings, they didn’t need to be overly modest. But still, they were both older now—this didn’t seem proper.

  Chengyu wanted to remind her about propriety between men and women, but he was afraid she’d scold him for being old-fashioned.

  Resigned, he pouted, clutching the rocking chair handle with a grievance-filled face as his sister tossed his pants aside. No matter how embarrassing, he bore it.

  She pinched his leg—it really was in bad shape. It wasn’t surprising the doctors had failed. Even she wasn’t confident she could heal it. But when skill falls short, we cheat. She had the Immortal Herb.

  The divine herb of the Song family—those who’d used it knew.

  Still, appearances mattered. She took out a pack of needles and started inserting them into his leg. Soon, it looked like a hedgehog. Xie shi watched, stunned by her practiced hand and calm expression. She realized then that Song Chaoxi truly knew medicine.

  “Chaoxi, is there any hope for your brother’s leg?”

  “No, there isn’t.”

  Xie shi: “…”

  Song Chengyu: “…”

  Song Chaoxi gnced at them and added bndly, “But you got lucky. You ran into me. Rebirth is a skill, too. If he’d been born into another family, this leg would be hopeless. He’d spend his life in a rocking chair, wasting away. But lucky for him, he has a sister like me. Sometimes I envy you all—why don’t I have a sister like me?”

  Xie shi and Chengyu fell silent. At this point, nothing they said seemed to matter—she’d already said it all.

  Xie shi was the first to recover. Gripping her handkerchief with joy, she asked, “Chaoxi, are you serious? His leg really can be cured? How long will it take?”

  Actually, it wasn’t too hard. But the medicinal powder had to be adjusted regurly. She couldn’t give him too much, lest others covet it. If her bracelet were discovered, her life would be in danger.

  “It’s not hard to treat. He’ll need regur acupuncture and massage. The technique is important, but I can’t stay by his side every day. So…”

  “I’ll do it!” Xie shi eagerly grabbed her hand, joy overflowing her pin face. “It shouldn’t be that hard, right? I may not have much else, but my hands are quite nimble. If you’re willing to teach me, I’ll massage him daily, so you don’t have to run back and forth.”

  Song Chaoxi nodded. That would have to do. Massage was just to promote circution and prevent muscle stiffness from long immobility. But the real key was strengthening his body and using the Immortal Herb.

  She thought for a moment. “The massage isn’t difficult, but there’s a medicine he must take orally. The formu must be changed every three days.”

  “I’ll have someone fetch it from the Duke’s manor. Eldest Miss, even if we had to get it every three days, as long as my Chengyu’s legs get better—if he can walk again—I’d give my life for it. Please don’t worry.”

  Song Chaoxi nodded and said no more. She lifted Chengyu’s sickly-pale leg and said gently, “Watch carefully, Concubine Mother. I’ll demonstrate once, then you try it. I’ll correct anything you do wrong.”

  Xie shi nodded repeatedly. To Song Chaoxi’s surprise, though not a doctor, Xie shi’s massage was even better than hers. Truly, a literate woman had strong comprehension. She learned quickly and had deft hands from years of needlework. With more strength than Song Chaoxi, the effect was naturally better. Song Chaoxi even gave her two scraping boards and told her to soak Chengyu’s feet every night to clear the meridians.

  Xie shi was moved to tears. She knew she shouldn’t be blindly optimistic—no famous doctor had succeeded. How could a young dy in the inner chambers succeed? But something about Song Chaoxi’s calm and composed demeanor made her believe in her. She felt the eldest miss was someone she could trust.

  She understood that the only reason Chaoxi was helping treat Chengyu was because of the dowry box she had gifted. That gesture of goodwill had made Chaoxi see her as one of her own. If she really cured Chengyu’s leg, then that dowry box was the best investment she ever made.

  Overflowing with gratitude, Xie shi had the maids bring out the best tea to entertain her.

  —

  Meanwhile, Shen shi and Song Chaoyan were drinking tea in the courtyard, looking completely at ease. Mama Sun looked up at the high sun and reminded gently:

  “Madam, Eldest Miss is returning today. Shouldn’t you go greet her?”

  Just thinking about that daughter annoyed Shen shi. Song Chaoxi was clearly her nemesis. She had so much dowry, yet still schemed for more! No conscience at all! After learning her aunt’s family was the richest in Yangzhou, she’d nearly cracked a tooth from clenching her jaw. She had sent people to investigate and found out—they’d all been fooled by Song Chaoxi!

  Suffering in Yangzhou? She lived in a mansion three times rger than the marquis's estate. Her allowance was counted in tens of thousands of taels. Her aunt only had one girl and pampered her like a princess. Silks, riches—luxuries even the Marquis' household had never seen. And she had the audacity to act like a victim? What gave her the right!

  “She has so much dowry, yet still schemed against our Chaoyan. A daughter like that isn’t worth keeping! I won’t greet her. The old madam is furious too and won’t go either. Let her dismount at the gate with no one welcoming her. Let her know—once a girl is married, she needs her natal family’s support. If she ruins that retionship, what good days could possibly lie ahead?” Shen shi sneered.

  Song Chaoyan nodded. She hadn’t understood what it meant to be the richest in Yangzhou—but after hearing the details, she was stunned. They used luminous pearls for lighting, pearls for skincare, spent thousands on a single meal, bathed in flower petals and powders more expensive than gold, wore headpieces worth tens of thousands… Song Chaoxi’s life was better than a princess’. Everyone pampered her. She got whatever she wanted.

  And what about herself? Though cherished, the Marquis' household had several daughters. She had to share. The estate wasn’t vish, and her share was limited. Compared to Chaoxi? Not even close.

  She couldn’t bear to think about it—each thought sparked deeper envy. Everything she once prided herself on paled beside Song Chaoxi. She used to call her a country bumpkin—but clearly, she was the one who’d never seen the world.

  No wonder she barely ate a few bites on her first day back, or sipped tea with distaste, or scoffed at the emperor’s cherries. Song Chaoyan had thought she was putting on airs—now she knew Chaoxi truly wasn’t impressed.

  —

  By midday, Jiang shi gnced at the sun and snorted coldly. “She should be back by now. Has the gatekeeper reported anything?”

  Nanny Guan bowed. “Not yet, Madam. The gatekeeper checked several times—he hasn’t seen her.”

  Jiang shi frowned. Song Chaoxi should have returned early in the morning with gifts. Why hadn’t she arrived yet?

  She was furious.

  Song Chaoxi had deceived her. That low-born concubine’s daughter had lived well in Yangzhou, yet her legitimate granddaughter had helped cover it up. That wretched girl had become the wife of the richest man! Merchant or not, money mattered. That lowborn girl—spawn of a disgraceful woman—deserved to be scorned and miserable. How could she become a rich wife?

  Rumor even had it that her husband hadn’t taken a concubine in twenty years and was devoted only to her.

  Jiang shi couldn’t bear it. The thought of that woman's daughter living in luxury for twenty years, birthing four handsome sons, while her husband rose from petty merchant to tycoon—it made her chest ache with rage.

  But what she hated most was being fooled by Song Chaoxi—made into a fool! She’d never lost face like this in her life.

  So what if she married a duke? The duke was a half-dead invalid now. He couldn’t protect her. If he had returned with her, they wouldn’t dare be rude. But since he hadn’t, showing Song Chaoxi her pce was only proper. She needed to remember where she came from!

  “Tell the servants—if she arrives, keep her at the gate. Don’t let her in until I get there.”

  Mama Guan obeyed.

  That day was Song Fengmao’s day off. The family would eat lunch together. The old madam, wearing a light golden brocade robe, sat at the head of the table. Shen shi arrived first with Song Chaoyan and Song Jialiang. In summer, Jialiang had become even more bloated—his face was like dough, features barely visible. Jiang shi found it disgusting, though Shen shi kept urging him to eat more.

  After a while, Song Yuanzhong and Song Fengmao arrived and sat. Song Fengmao gnced around, then frowned slightly.

  “Where is Chaoxi?”

  Jiang shi’s face was stern and expressionless as she said coldly, “Your precious daughter still isn’t back yet, making the whole family wait on her. Such grand airs! Looks like she’s climbed up the social dder and now thinks our little Marquis Manor is beneath her.”

  Shen shi's eyes were icy as she sneered, “Had I known I’d raise such an ungrateful turncoat, I would never have given birth to her. I’ve never seen a daughter like this—no sense of etiquette or filial piety. Since ancient times, returning to one’s natal home after marriage shows respect. Even if the Duke is still unconscious, she should have come back. It’s already noon and she’s still not here—is she trying to make a statement? Compared to her, Chaoyan is far more decent.”

  Song Chaoyan lowered her head and said softly, “Maybe Sister is too busy to care about our Marquis Manor.”

  Song Fengmao frowned deeply, feeling resentful toward his daughter. The household had lived frugally for years, and had he known his concubine-born sister's husband was the richest man in Yangzhou, he never would have ignored them for so long. Even a bit of help back then would’ve earned him gratitude now.

  Suddenly, footsteps echoed through the courtyard. Song Tingfang entered, smiling as she led Song Chaoxi by the hand, accompanied by Lan shi and Xie shi.

  Jiang shi raised her brows slightly but remained calm.

  Song Fengmao, however, was fuming. He barked, “Chaoxi, even if you’ve married into the Duke’s household, you should remember your surname. I’ve never seen a daughter return to her natal home at noon. You’re quite the grand dy now, aren’t you? Becoming a duchess has really gone to your head!”

  Song Chaoxi pressed her lips together, then smiled with a raised brow. “Father, judging by your words, it sounds as if the Marquis Manor has always warmly welcomed me home.”

  Song Fengmao was stunned and nearly smmed the table in anger. “What are you implying? You did wrong, and now you’re bming us? Do you think we’d sm the door in your face if you came home?”

  Song Chaoxi let out a ugh and turned to Jiang shi. “That’s funny. This morning, when my carriage arrived at the gate of the Marquis Manor, the doors were tightly shut. The servants refused to let me in, so I had to sneak in through the back gate. Father, is that how the Marquis Manor welcomes its daughters?”

  Song Fengmao’s face froze. He turned in disbelief toward Shen shi and Jiang shi, only to see both their eyes darting away—clearly, they knew exactly what had happened.

  Song Chaoxi smiled and calmly took a seat, not the least bit flustered. “If I’m not mistaken, the Emperor promotes filial governance and emphasizes the Three Bonds and Five Retionships. As the younger generation, naturally I take the Marquis Manor and my father as my example. If this is how the Marquis Manor treats its daughter, does that mean I’m also allowed to ignore decorum, disrespect my elders, and disregard family rules? Father, losing face within the family is a small matter, but I’m now married to the Duke. The Emperor personally cares about our household. If word gets out that not even my own natal family welcomes me home, it might appear we don’t value this marriage alliance. Should the Emperor take offense, please don’t bme me for not fulfilling my duties as a daughter.”

  Jiang shi’s temple throbbed. She had known her behavior wasn’t proper, but she’d only meant to give Chaoxi a bit of a scare. Afterward, she could act kindly, and no one would dare accuse her. But now, with the Emperor and the Duke’s household backing Chaoxi, even a small slight became weighty. She had never been outmaneuvered like this—usually she was the one pulling strings.

  Now, her hands trembled with rage, nearly dropping her chopsticks.

  Song Fengmao was also aware of the implications. Even minor matters could become political ammunition if someone wanted to attack. What Chaoxi said made sense. He was an official, and officials had to appear upright. Even if his daughter wasn’t favored at home, she was still a young dy of the Song family. Since when does a noble daughter get turned away at her own family’s gate? If this got out, the Marquis Manor would be a ughingstock among the nobility.

  But he couldn’t outright admit fault either. So, he drew on a father’s authority and spoke coldly:

  “You lied to your parents and hid your aunt’s family's wealth in Yangzhou—that’s already a serious offense. How can a child deceive their elders? You were in the wrong first. As for the gate being shut… perhaps the servant acted on his own. How can you seize on a small mistake to interrogate your parents?”

  Song Chaoxi raised her brows and nearly appuded him in her mind—look at that, so dignified and righteous!

  This was the so-called “face” that noble families cherished. Song Fengmao had mastered it. Lies? Clinging to minor issues? She didn’t even bother arguing. What’s the point? Would reasoning work with people like them?

  If logic worked, prison cells wouldn’t be full of wrongfully accused criminals.

  She simply smiled and replied, “Oh? So it was the servant’s idea? What a dog.”

  Jiang shi had never been insulted so indirectly before. Shen shi turned pale—it was obvious she felt the insult was aimed at herself as well.

  But Song Chaoxi just beamed as she picked up her chopsticks. “Enough, Father. I won’t lower myself to the level of people who rely on others to act arrogant. So what if I didn’t get to use the front gate? The back gate works just as well—still a gate, still gets me inside. Actually, it’s been days since I’ve had a meal here, and it smells better than I remember. Thank you, Grandmother and Mother, for preparing my favorite dishes. I’m truly grateful.”

  The room fell into dead silence. Everyone’s expression was as ugly as could be.

  Song Chaoyan had wanted to see her sister get reprimanded. Who knew Song Chaoxi would mock everyone without even raising her voice, and leave the elders speechless?

  Worse, after just three days, Song Chaoxi looked even more radiant—glowing, vibrant, her lips soft and rosy. The more beautiful she looked, the more infuriating it was.

  Was it the bracelet? Thinking of the bracelet and the bloodletting, Song Chaoyan completely lost her appetite.

  After the meal, the main gate finally opened. Song Chaoxi left, supported by Qingzhu. Halfway out, she spotted Song Chaoyan walking toward her. Chaoyan wore a light lotus-pink robe—simir to one Song Chaoxi had worn before—but her sickly face and thin frame couldn’t carry off such a delicate color.

  Song Chaoxi raised her brow but didn’t spare her a gnce.

  Song Chaoyan’s eyes fell on the bracelet on her sister’s wrist, twitching uncontrolbly. That bracelet she had long coveted was now on Song Chaoxi’s wrist. Because of it, Chaoxi had grown even more beautiful. But once she got it, she would outshine her—no, she would take it, even by force if necessary.

  As Song Chaoxi stepped out the gate, her eyelid twitched. Unease settled in her heart. Her cousins hadn’t sent any word these past days, and she feared something had happened to them. She changed into a man’s robe she’d brought from the manor and went out to search.

  Failing to find their residence, she returned to the Duke’s estate.

  As soon as she entered, she noticed the servants all hurrying about, clearly busy with something. When Xiyue saw her, she ran over excitedly. “Divine Doctor Song!!!”

  Song Chaoxi froze. A bad feeling rose in her chest. Her breath hitched. “What happened? Is the Duke unwell?”

  But Xiyue suddenly grinned. “Divine Doctor Song! The Duke is awake! The Old Madam sent me to fetch the imperial physician, and I just ran into you!”

  The buzzing in her ears drowned out all sound. Awake? Rongjing… is awake?

  The news struck her dumb. Behind her, Qingzhu and Dong’er were so excited they stomped their feet.

  Dong’er: “What are you waiting for? Go take his pulse! He’s your husband! What if he faints again before seeing your face?!”

  Xiyue paused at the outburst, overwhelmed. Song Chaoxi gave Dong’er a reproachful gnce, cleared her throat, and calmly requested a sedan chair to be sent to the keside pavilion.

  The corridor had never felt so long. The sun beat down. A breeze offered slight relief. Her mind was bnk as she pushed open the door.

  The Old Madam was weeping with joy, dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief. The Duke was half-sitting, leaning against the bedframe. At the sound, he turned his head—only a loose robe draped over him, colr revealing a hint of colrbone, eyes deep and dark. Though his expression was mild, it exuded an unspoken pressure.

  It was the first time Song Chaoxi had seen him awake—and his gaze sent shivers down her spine.

  The Old Madam, teary-eyed but smiling, waved her over. “Quick, take his pulse.”

  Lowering her eyes, Song Chaoxi approached. The Duke’s presence was overwhelming—even a gnce from him invoked fear. Composing herself, she said calmly, “Please extend your hand, Your Grace.”

  He raised his wrist. His fingers were long and slender, schorly even—yet covered in calluses from years of wielding weapons.

  She gently pced her fingers on his wrist. Astonishingly, his pulse was even stronger than that morning’s. The celestial herb truly worked—he, once at death’s door, now had a pulse steadier than most.

  But if she told them he needed no medicine or recovery, the Old Madam might panic. She’d seen this before—when told they didn’t need medicine, patients assumed they were dying.

  Sometimes, doctors didn’t just treat bodies—they soothed minds.

  So Song Chaoxi said gently, “The weather is hot, and while the Duke’s condition looks stable, he’s still a bit weak. I’ll prescribe some herbs for medicinal baths and a few therapeutic meals. With both approaches, it will be as effective as regur medicine.”

  The Old Madam nodded in satisfaction, then frowned. “You said he’s a bit weak??”

  Could he still… give her grandchildren? Her daughter-in-w was lovely—what if her son wasn’t up to it? That’d be tragic.

  Song Chaoxi froze—she had just been making conversation. Why was the Old Madam taking it seriously?

  In truth, the Duke was stronger than her—he could probably head straight to the battlefield.

  The Old Madam pressed again, “Is it temporary or permanent?”

  Song Chaoxi blinked, confused, then answered honestly, “Of course, it’s temporary.”

  “Good, good!” The Old Madam lit up. Grandkids were secured!

  She looked at the two of them—he in white, hair loosely tied; she in pale blue robes tinged with white. Their matching outfits made them look remarkably well-matched. The Old Madam felt like the third wheel. With her son awake, her job was done. This was the couple’s first proper meeting—some things were best left unsaid in her presence.

  She stood. “I’ll go report to the pace. Chaoxi, have a good talk with the Duke. I won’t disturb you.”

  Song Chaoxi choked. What is there to talk about?

  Their first real meeting, and in such circumstances—awkward, to say the least.

  What was she supposed to say?

  “Hey, while you were unconscious, we got married. Surprise! Isn’t that exciting?”

  Would Rong Jing faint again from the shock?