Chapter 20
Chapter 20: The Cool-Headed Maidservant
The night grew deeper.
The bustle within the Song Family Estate had finally faded. The sound of guests' carriages and horses drifted further and further away, while the large red lanterns hanging beneath the eaves swayed gently in the night breeze, casting patches of dark crimson light across the bluestone ground.
Occasionally, the sound of the night watchman's drum drifted over from a distance, shattering the brief silence.
Xia Ling stood at the far end of the Covered Walkway, yet to take a single step.
She was dressed in a red ru-skirt that evening—as a dowry maidservant, she too had changed into new clothes today.
Though not as vivid as the bridal gown of a new bride, hers was a pale, rosy red, like peach blossoms in the third month of spring, making her appear delicate and charming.
Yet at that moment, her small face held not even a trace of joy. She only furrowed her brows, gazing in the direction of the bridal chamber.
What was Young Master doing now?
That haughty woman, Qi Chuyao—would she bully him?
What if she lost her temper? What if she raised her hand against him?
Young Master couldn't see anything. He didn't even know which direction to dodge. He could only endure whatever humiliation was heaped upon him.
The more Xia Ling thought about it, the more anxious she became. Her fingers twisted at her sleeve cuffs, wringing them tight.
No—she couldn't just let her bully Young Master like this.
If she truly dared to bully Young Master, she would step forward at once!
Just as Xia Ling was about to move, she saw a figure shoot forward ahead of her.
Xia Shuang.
She too wore the red festive dress of a dowry maidservant, yet the way that red sat on her body was something else entirely—it carried a sharp, cutting edge.
She cradled the Longsword she never let leave her side, charging straight toward the bridal chamber with quick, steady strides.
"Wait!"
A shout came from behind.
Xia Shuang's steps faltered. She turned her head.
Qi's Mother came striding over with long, hurried steps, her expression caught somewhere between exasperation and reluctant amusement.
She looked at this little maidservant—Longsword in arms, red skirt on, face brimming with killing intent—and for a moment couldn't find a single thing to say.
"The newlyweds are in their bridal chamber right now. What are you going in there for?"
Xia Shuang looked at her and answered with complete seriousness: "I'm going to… protect him."
Qi's Mother blanked for a moment, then laughed despite her irritation.
"You're Xia Shuang, yes? Song Ning's personal attendant." She blocked Xia Shuang's path, her tone softening somewhat. "I know your intentions are good."
"But it won't do right now. Wait until tomorrow. Tonight, my Qi Chuyao is by Song Ning's side—nothing will go wrong."
At the mention of the name Qi Chuyao, Xia Shuang's expression shifted entirely. She shook her head at once.
"No… that won't do." Her voice was halting. "She… won't do."
Xia Ling stood a short distance away, arms folded, watching the scene unfold. She pursed her lips at those words.
Exactly.
Does your own daughter's character not speak for itself?
What if she really did bully Young Master? He had no way to fight back.
Qi's Mother's expression darkened slightly.
"Who won't do? What's wrong with my daughter?" She drew herself up with the authority of an elder, and a note of severity entered her voice. "It's their wedding night. Don't go speaking out of turn and gossiping."
"What kind of newlywed night has the maidservants crouching in the corner? Especially with a Longsword, no less—can't you go back tomorrow?"
She looked Xia Shuang up and down.
Red skirt. Longsword in arms. Ice-cold expression. Imposing bearing. Nothing about her resembled an ordinary maidservant.
Yet she couldn't sense any cultivation from her at all. Either she was an unranked martial artist, or she possessed some technique for concealing her energy.
The latter seemed far more likely.
Xia Shuang offered no explanation. She only gestured a few times with her hands, as if to say she was absolutely going.
Then with a light huff, she raised her sword and moved to press forward.
"Hold on." Qi's Mother's expression darkened. She reached out to block her.
A fierce wind surged.
The full power of a Second Rank Martial Artist erupted. The lanterns all around shook from the force of it.
"Sister, be careful!" Xia Ling cried out in alarm.
Qi's Mother was a Second Rank Martial Artist after all—if she hurt Sister, what would they do?
But Xia Shuang was faster.
The very instant Qi's Mother reached out, a cold gleam flashed through Xia Shuang's eyes.
ZHENG!
The Longsword rang as it left the scabbard. The swordlight was white as snow, its chill sharp and biting.
Xia Shuang gripped the sword, and her entire presence transformed in an instant.
Qi's Mother's expression grew instantly grave.
With no time to think, she twisted to the side, evading that fierce strike.
But Xia Shuang's sword was faster than she had expected. The first strike missed—and the second was already closing in.
"What a fast sword!"
Alarm rose in Qi's Mother's heart. She dared not be careless, and swiftly gathered herself to respond.
Beneath the moonlight, 2 figures crossed and clashed.
Qi's Mother fought bare-handed. Each palm strike she released carried the full weight of her Inner Energy, the palm wind howling, sweeping up the fallen leaves all around.
But Xia Shuang's sword was too fast. Its path was nearly impossible to track—only flashes of cold light flickering under the moonlight could be seen, like shooting stars, like bolts of lightning, weaving into a net without a single opening.
The more Qi's Mother fought, the more unsettled she became.
How could this little maidservant's swordplay be so formidable?
What baffled her even further was that she still couldn't gauge the girl's cultivation.
The sword's edge carried no Inner Energy—it was purely the power of the swordsmanship itself. Yet it was already forcing her to respond with everything she had.
Was this truly an unranked martial artist? What a sly little friend her daughter had—never once mentioning that someone this capable lived in his household.
The more alarmed Qi's Mother grew, the more ferociously Xia Shuang fought.
Her expression remained as cold as ever—yet the sword in her hand grew faster, and faster still, the swordlight so fierce it seemed to shatter the moonlight itself.
Then, from behind, a furious shout rang out:
"Xia Shuang! What do you think you're doing?!"
Xia Shuang's sword came to an abrupt halt.
She sheathed the sword and stepped back 2 paces, head lowered, arms wrapped around the sword, silent.
Song Ning's Mother came striding over with a grim expression, planting herself before Xia Shuang and scolding her:
"Who gave you permission to use your hands? Do you know who she is? Where are your manners?!"
Xia Shuang kept her head down, arms around her sword, face turned to the side.
She said nothing.
She offered no defense.
She only stood in silence, head bowed, lashes trembling faintly—and somehow, she looked almost aggrieved.
Song Youyi followed behind Song Ning's Mother, walking over as well.
Her expression too was troubled—her pale little face tinged with an unhealthy flush, whether from hurrying over or something else entirely.
Qi's Mother gathered her sleeve where the swordwind had sliced through it, rubbed her temple, and waved her hand repeatedly.
"It's nothing, nothing at all…"
She was still turning over the exchange in her mind.
That girl's swordplay was so formidable she couldn't read her depth at all.
Without a weapon in hand, the outcome truly might have been uncertain…
If she had known, she would have brought a weapon—but what kind of person brings a weapon to their own daughter's wedding?
Once Song Ning's Mother understood what had happened, her expression eased somewhat.
She walked up to Xia Shuang, let out a sigh, and reached out to ruffle her head.
"You're not going tonight." Her voice had gone soft. "Stay with Xia Ling."
"If nothing else, think of what's best for Ning. What kind of wedding night has 2 maidservants standing guard at the door?"
"What would Qi Chuyao think of her dignity?"
Xia Shuang kept her head down, said nothing, and hugged the sword tighter to her chest, her lashes trembling faintly.
And so the small commotion came to an end.
Xia Ling walked over and grabbed Xia Shuang by the hand, pulling her away.
The 2 of them gradually grew distant, their red skirts fading into the dark of the night.
Qi's Mother draped an arm over Song Ning's Mother's shoulder, the 2 of them murmuring about something as they slowly walked away.
The Covered Walkway fell quiet.
Only Song Youyi remained, standing alone in place.
She gazed toward the direction of the bridal courtyard—into that darkness—and her heartbeat suddenly quickened.
Tonight…
She stole a glance at Song Ning's Mother's retreating figure, then looked around her.
No one. No one was paying her any attention.
Her steps shifted quietly, and without a sound, she began to make her way toward the Eastern Wing.