Chapter 8
Chapter 8: The Sickly Little Sister
"Really?" Xia Ling leaned in closer. "How does Young Master know?"
"Unless she wants Aunt Qi to break her legs." Song Ning shrugged.
Xia Ling froze for a moment, then burst out laughing with a pfft.
"That's true!" she laughed, her eyes curving with delight.
The comb continued gliding through the hair—once, then again.
After a moment, Xia Ling's voice rose again, quieter than before, carrying a trace of cautious, tentative probing:
"Then, Young Master, will you be moving to the Qi Family Residence when the time comes? Will Little Frost and I be moving over as well?"
Her hand paused.
"My sister asked me to bring it up yesterday."
Xia Shuang stood at the doorway clutching her longsword, shooting Xia Ling a glare, yet said nothing to contradict her.
Song Ning had just opened his mouth to reply when a clear, crisp female voice suddenly carried in from outside the door:
"Brother."
Xia Ling's hand gave a violent jolt, nearly sending the comb clattering to the floor.
She hastily set the comb down and quickly walked to the doorway, pulling the door open.
Standing outside was a woman.
She was dressed in a simple, muted robe, a thin cape draped over her shoulders.
The faint light of early morning fell across her face—a face of extraordinary beauty. Her brows curved like distant mountains veiled in dark mist, her eyes shimmered like rippling autumn waters, her nose was delicate and refined, and her lips carried a slight pallor, the kind often seen on someone long afflicted by illness.
Her skin was very fair, the faint blue of slender veins faintly visible across the back of her hands.
Her figure was slight and frail, swaying like a willow in the breeze—standing there, it seemed as though a single gust of wind could blow her over.
A faint fragrance of medicinal herbs drifted through the air.
"Second Miss, good morning." Xia Ling bowed and greeted her softly, a composed smile on her face.
Song Youyi.
The Second Miss of the Song Family Estate.
Within this household, aside from Song Ning's mother, the one who held the most sway was this frail, sickly Second Miss.
The First Miss had been dispatched to the frontier in the northeast some years ago to defend against the foreign tribes, leaving all matters of the household, large and small, under Song Youyi's purview.
Song Ning's word carried weight too, of course, but being blind, he rarely involved himself in household affairs.
And so every time Xia Ling came face to face with the Second Miss, she instinctively felt a creeping unease.
Whether it was because of that cold, piercing gaze she had witnessed in childhood, or simply because of who Song Youyi was—she couldn't say.
"Where is my brother? He should be up by now, shouldn't he?" Song Youyi paused at the doorway, her voice soft and gentle.
Xia Ling nodded in a flustered hurry; Xia Shuang quietly stepped aside to make room.
"Come in." Song Ning's voice came from inside the room, carrying a smile. "Up so early?"
A tender smile rose across Song Youyi's face.
She stepped into the room, her footsteps light, and walked to Song Ning's side. She leaned down and called out sweetly:
"Brother, I'm here."
She looked at Song Ning—he was already dressed in fresh clothes, a pale moonlit-white long robe that made him appear all the more refined and distinguished.
His white eyes were turned ever so slightly in her direction; though without focus, they gave the impression that he was looking at her.
Something unnamed stirred inside Song Youyi's heart.
"Brother, you're heading to the Qi Family Residence today, aren't you?" She sat down beside Song Ning and smiled. "Let me come along—I could use some fresh air."
Song Ning's brow furrowed slightly. He caught the faint scent of medicinal herbs drifting from his sister.
"With your constitution, you're better off staying indoors." He advised her, a note of disapproval in his voice. "Stop going out all the time—aren't the things I write for you enough to keep you occupied?"
Song Youyi stretched with a languid yawn, her slender frame leaning against his arm as she coaxed him:
"Aiyah, you write too slowly—I finished everything long ago."
"Staying home all day, I'm going to suffocate from boredom."
"Besides, this is a major occasion. How can the Song Family not send someone? Elder Sister isn't even here!"
Whether by design or by chance, she kept pressing herself further into Song Ning's arms, her small face drawing ever closer to his, the medicinal fragrance growing stronger and stronger.
Song Ning, hopelessly entangled, could only let out a sigh. "Fine, fine, fine—you can come, you can come."
Song Youyi laughed, lifting a hand to cover her mouth as she coughed twice.
Then she stood, extending her hand toward Song Ning:
"Brother, lean on me."
Song Ning laughed despite himself: "Who lets a blind man lean on them?"
"I don't care." Song Youyi took his hand and placed it on her arm. "I want you to lean on me."
Song Ning gave in helplessly and let her have her way.
Song Youyi took the opportunity to press herself against him, the whole of her leaning into his arms just as she had done since childhood, resting against him.
Her head rested against his shoulder as she greedily breathed in the faint scent of Soap Bean on him—the most familiar smell in the world to her.
Every item in Song Ning's daily life had been selected and delivered by her. His clothes, his various daily necessities—all of it was managed by her hands.
That included his robes and even his inner garments—all chosen in the styles she favored.
Song Ning couldn't see and paid no mind to such things, so Song Youyi dressed him to her own liking.
But would this way of life disappear once Song Ning married into another family? Song Youyi couldn't be certain—after all, this was a matter that concerned 2 families.
Song Ning gently patted Song Youyi's head and urged: "Don't press so close—we won't be able to walk."
A faint blush rose across her face, her beautiful eyes narrowing to a sliver, shimmering like rippling water.
That flush of red against her pale skin looked somewhat sickly, yet strangely, hauntingly lovely.
Something flashed through her eyes.
Obsession. Greed. Possession.
Xia Ling stood to the side, stiff as a plank of wood, not daring to breathe.
She watched Song Youyi cling to Song Ning with such familiarity—watched those pale, slender hands clutch tightly to the Young Master's arm—watched that frail, beautiful face surface with that expression she couldn't quite put into words.
Then Song Youyi's gaze swept over her.
That look—exactly the same as it had been all those years ago.
Cold. Threatening.
Xia Ling immediately dropped her head and let her eyes drift elsewhere, pretending she had seen nothing.
Song Ning, of course, could see none of this.
He could only feel his sister's slight, frail form pressing against him—soft, warm, carrying that faint medicinal fragrance.
Her arm was linked through his; rather than him supporting her, it was more as though she was wrapping herself around him as they walked forward.
Still the same as when they were children—always clinging to those around her.
But Song Ning could understand it well enough. After all, with a constitution as fragile as his sister's, it was only natural for her to lean on others.
"I've already arranged the palanquin." Song Youyi's voice was soft and lilting, touched with a smile. "Shall we go?"
The 2 of them walked side by side toward the door, with Xia Ling quietly following behind.
At the threshold, Song Youyi suddenly spoke:
"It would be so much simpler if Brother were to marry someone within our own family."
"Then we wouldn't have to go through all this trouble—running over just to deliver a letter."
She added a pointed remark: "Though I wonder whether Elder Sister would agree."
Walking behind them, Xia Ling's mind suddenly caught on a thought:
‘Elder Sister? Is she actually talking about the First Miss of the Song Family?’
Song Ning's brow furrowed slightly. He raised his hand and rapped her lightly on the head, saying in earnest:
"What kind of nonsense are you talking? Don't joke about Elder Sister."
Song Youyi stuck out her tongue:
"I was only saying it in jest."
Her voice turned soft and sweet once more: "Elder Sister is away at the frontier—she'd never know. It was just a passing remark."
With that, she leaned against Song Ning once more.
Xia Ling and Xia Shuang exchanged a glance, both at a loss for words.