Chapter Twenty-Nine: The Dignity of the Prime Minister's Residence

Under Madam Lu’s vaguely instructive words, the two children pieced together an image of Song Ci in their minds: rigid and dull, rarely smiling, naturally imposing, difficult to approach.

Yes, an old monster.

The carriage came to a gentle stop at the side gate of the Prime Minister’s residence. With the help of the servants, Madam Lu stepped down, glancing toward the imposing stone lions flanking the main entrance. She pressed her lips together.

Naturally, she was not qualified to enter through the main gate.

But then again, the main gate was not opened lightly. Only when the Emperor descended in person, or when a high-ranking member of the imperial family visited, would it be unbarred.

Retracting her gaze, Madam Lu saw someone approaching from the side entrance to greet her—Madam Liang, one of the trusted matrons at the First Lady’s side.

“Third Madam, may you have fortune and peace. You have finally returned. Our lady has been waiting for you for quite some time,” Madam Liang said with a broad smile, bowing to Madam Lu. She then turned to the two exquisitely dressed children, offering them a respectful salute as well. “This old servant greets Third Miss and Fourth Young Master.”

The Song family had not split their household; the third generation was ranked by gender. Song Ruwei was the third among the girls, Song Lingzhou the fourth among the boys.

Madam Lu raised her hand slightly in return, smiling as she responded, “You are too kind, Madam Liang. Thank you for waiting here for me. It has been many years since we last met.”

Ever since Song Zhiqing’s appointment to an outpost, she had followed him from place to place, never returning home. Even Song Lingzhou had never met any of the Song family before.

“It is merely my duty,” Madam Liang replied. “You must be weary from your long journey. Please, come inside at once. The Dowager Lady and the First Lady have been waiting. Your and the Third Master’s quarters have been thoroughly cleaned in advance. The luggage will be taken care of.”

“I’m grateful for my sister-in-law’s thoughtfulness,” Madam Lu said, her face full of appreciation.

Madam Liang smiled and personally escorted the two young masters and mistresses inside. Just past the entrance, several tung-oiled sedan chairs awaited them.

Madam Liang helped Madam Lu into the foremost sedan, then assisted the children into another, herself attending at their side.

Sticking out his tongue, Song Lingzhou whispered to Song Ruwei, whose expression remained serious, “This residence must be enormous if we need carriages just to get around.”

Song Ruwei felt embarrassed and shot him a glare—what a country bumpkin he was.

Madam Liang, sharp of ear, explained with a kindly smile, “The newly granted Prime Minister’s residence is vast. Even walking to the second gate would take half an hour if you read a story on the way. So the small carriages are prepared to spare your feet, and also so you do not tire after your journey.”

Madam Lu once again expressed her gratitude, “My sister-in-law is truly considerate in all things.”

Pleased, Madam Liang gave the order, and the carriages rolled on toward the second gate.

Madam Lu maintained a composed exterior, though her heart was anxious. From the corner of her eye, she observed the servants they passed. As their carriages approached, all stood silent and still, hands respectfully at their sides, their manners flawless.

This was the discipline instilled by the First Lady of the Song family. As the legitimate eldest daughter of a marquis household, her noble bearing and management skills were evident—even in the conduct of the household staff.

Madam Lu could not compare.

She pressed her lips together, unconsciously tightening her hold on the silk handkerchief in her grasp.

Behind her, the young Song Lingzhou gazed at the passing scenery, wide-eyed, nearly unable to take it all in. The Prime Minister’s residence was so grand, so beautiful, and so full of people.

Song Ruwei, who tried to act older than her years, felt much the same. Though she did not gawk around like Song Lingzhou, she could not help but take in the sights of the estate.

Even the tung-oiled sedan they rode in was set with glass panels, embroidered with jewels, adorned with tassels and silken cords—luxurious and exquisite.

Song Ruwei drew a quiet breath. So this was the Prime Minister’s residence. No wonder her mother had hired a special tutor to teach her proper etiquette, and with such rigor. Otherwise, how could she possibly get along with her two elder cousins in the future?