Chapter Three: Acceptance—The Handsome Older Man Is My Son

When the eldest madam of the Song family hurried into her mother-in-law’s chambers, clutching her maid’s hand for support, she was met with the sight of the family’s two revered elders locked in a silent, wide-eyed standoff.

But that was not the main point.

The true miracle was that her mother-in-law had awakened.

Seeing Song Ci propped up in bed, breathing heavily yet lucid, the eldest madam felt such joy that she nearly fell to her knees to offer fervent thanks to the deities.

“Mother, you’re finally awake!”

Song Ci had already noticed the elegant and dignified woman in her thirties, whose eyes were red-rimmed and shadowed with fatigue—surely her eldest daughter-in-law, Lady Gu. Standing behind her was a slightly younger, spirited beauty, likely her second daughter-in-law, Lady Jiang.

The room was crowded with people, thickening the air until it became stifling and oppressive, which only worsened Song Ci’s restlessness.

“Open the window. My chest feels so tight.”

At the old matron’s command, someone immediately complied, and a gentle breeze carried the faint scent of flowers into the room.

Now that Song Ci was awake, the daughters-in-law, nurses, and maids clustered around her, fussing over her comfort, offering water and wiping her brow, pushing the old master Song to the sidelines.

Old Master Song felt a pang as he was utterly ignored.

After all, he was supposed to be the true head of the Song family.

“Mother!” A voice full of urgency, accompanied by hurried footsteps, came from the hallway.

Everyone quickly stepped aside to pay their respects.

“Prime Minister.”

“Husband, you’ve returned.” The eldest madam went forward to greet him and, taking his official hat from his hands, said with excitement, “Mother has awakened.”

Before Song Ci could see clearly, her hand was enveloped in a warm, strong grip. She looked up and gasped.

A handsome, refined middle-aged man with a neatly groomed beard, exuding both authority and mature charm, stood before her. Despite his commanding presence, his eyes were filled with the gentlest concern as he gazed at her.

Song Ci felt a little dizzy.

He was the very image of an ideal man—the sort that so many women dreamed of.

“Mother, you’ve worried us so.”

That word—Mother!—snapped Song Ci out of her daze. Her eyes glazed over.

Of course, this body belonged to the man’s mother—she was his very own mother.

Oh, how she wanted to cry.

Song Zhiyuan, watching his mother’s stricken, tearful expression, grew anxious. “Mother, what’s wrong? Are you feeling unwell? Someone, fetch my token and summon Physician Lu at once!”

A servant hurried out.

Song Ci stared at Song Zhiyuan, repeating silently in her heart: This is my son, I must stick to the script.

She pressed her lips downward, then said, “I’m fine, just old and feeble now. It was wrong of me to make you all worry.”

Those words—

Song Zhiyuan and the eldest madam were so alarmed their hair stood on end. Without thinking, they dropped to their knees. “Mother, how can you say that? Are you trying to break our hearts? It’s we, your unfilial children, who failed to care for you. None of this is your fault!”

“That’s right, Mother. If your daughters-in-law have done anything amiss, please tell us, don’t keep it bottled up,” the eldest madam pleaded, even more terrified than her husband. In over ten years since marrying into the Song family, she had never seen the old lady admit to a mistake.

Even when she was wrong, she was never wrong—such was the prerogative of the matriarch, the family’s honored ancestor!

Song Ci was stunned. She had only meant to speak sensibly, but suddenly everyone was on their knees, trembling with fear.

“No, why are you all kneeling? Get up and speak.”

“Mother…”

“Come, up, up… cough, cough—” Song Ci choked in her urgency.

And once again, the room was thrown into chaos.