Chapter 10: Mutual Affection Between Husband and Wife

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This was not Song Qiao’s first visit to Shou’an Hall. On the morning after her wedding, she had come here to serve tea to Mu Yi’s mother.

The old lady was aptly described as a smiling tiger—benevolent on the surface but deeply calculating beneath.

Using the tea ceremony as a pretext, she harshly reprimanded Song Qiao, delivering a severe warning.

At the time, Song Qiao had believed that surviving through the formal visit would mean all troubles were over. Yet now, plans couldn’t keep up with the changes, and if she hoped to walk away unscathed, she would have to be on high alert, fully prepared.

When the old lady saw Song Qiao enter, tears welled up in her eyes.

“Yi has taken another bride. I know you harbor resentment, but trouble began the moment you entered this house. The Hou residence cannot be without a mistress. Rest assured, from now on, the Hou household will only have you and Shen Ruoxi—no other concubines.”

Since Mu Yi had his childhood sweetheart, he certainly would not want another. Yet Song Qiao was expected to bear the burden of this kindness. Feeling the hypocrisy, she fought back a bitter smile.

“Song Yuan is no fool,” Song Qiao knelt respectfully. “Though illness has caused much trouble for the Hou household these past two years, as long as the woman has good character and can care for you and Master Hou, taking another bride would not trouble me. I have no objections.”

“I did not expect you to be so reasonable!” The old lady’s eyes lit up with surprise. “It seems the rumors were mistaken—I have wronged you.”

“Rumors end with the wise. From now on, I ask you, Mother, to clear my name.”

Song Qiao made a light joke, easing the atmosphere considerably.

The old lady feigned regret and chided Madam Feng beside her, “She is not well and should not kneel long. Why didn’t you remind me?”

Madam Feng hurriedly had a wooden stool brought over, and thoughtfully placed a cushion to keep Song Qiao warm.

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Song Qiao knew the old lady well. She followed her lead throughout, displaying subtle obedience and understanding that delighted the old woman.

Not only was she invited to join the evening meal, but she was also generously gifted numerous pieces of jewelry.

It was only after the hour of the Dog (around 7–9 p.m.) that Song Qiao was allowed to leave.

Like a fish stranded too long on shore, freed from the old lady’s watchful eyes, Song Qiao finally breathed deeply. Given the rare chance to go out, she didn’t hurry back but let Pei’er support her as they slowly strolled through the back garden.

Along the way, some maids passed by without recognizing her, not even glancing up.

Pei’er voiced her indignation on Song Qiao’s behalf, but Song Qiao paid little mind, her gaze fixed on the scenery before her.

The Hou estate was far more vast than she had imagined—three days and nights wouldn’t be enough to explore it all.

Red wedding banners and ribbons from Mu Yi and Shen Ruoxi’s grand wedding still lingered, a constant reminder that everything was now set in stone.

Moreover, the old lady had just refused her request to see her “parents,” showing no room for compromise, which stifled her spirit.

Unconsciously, the two had wandered into the back garden.

Unexpectedly, in the vastness of the Hou estate, fate had them run directly into Mu Yi and Shen Ruoxi.

Though winter had come, Mu Yi showed no fear of the cold, dressed lightly as he practiced swordsmanship in a clearing behind a rockery.

His movements were swift and precise, mirroring his decisive and efficient personality.

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By his side, Shen Ruoxi accompanied him, playing the zither, their affection evident in every glance—completely blissful.

The previous schemes had not impacted their relationship; if anything, it had only deepened their bond.

“Master Hou and Lady Shen only returned to the estate at dusk, weary from their journey—yet they show no signs of fatigue?”

Pei’er frowned at Mu Yi’s apparent favoritism, unable to hold back a slight sneer.

Song Qiao couldn’t help but smile. With the gentle music and warm atmosphere, Mu Yi should be in high spirits now.

It was they who had appeared at an inopportune moment.

Song Qiao immediately turned to leave with Pei’er, but suddenly a shadow zipped past them without warning, catching them completely off guard.

Pei’er, less composed than Song Qiao, screamed in fright and dropped her lantern.

“Who’s there? Show yourself!”

Her shout stirred Mu Yi’s attention. Song Qiao caught a glint of cold steel before a long sword suddenly appeared, its blade pressed against her throat and then embedded into the rockery beside her.

By a hair’s breadth, her neck had nearly been slashed—her life hung in the balance.