Chapter Forty-Three: Want to Take a Concubine? Are You Still Up to It?

Song Zhiyu’s words caused the whole room to fall silent.

“Fourth Brother, what nonsense are you spouting?” Song Zhiyuan frowned, casting a stern look at his younger sibling.

Song Zhiyu shrank his neck, muttering, “What other joyful news could there be? Could it be, Father, that you’re planning to take another concubine? Well, if that’s the case, you really are vigorous in your old age.”

The latter part of his remark was rather suggestive, and the women in the room blushed.

“Indeed.” Old Master Song clapped his hands and declared, “I intend to bring in a new young wife.”

A new young wife.

The air suddenly grew still.

Everyone looked in shock and fear at Song Ci, who sat beside Old Master Song.

“Mother, what does it mean to bring in a new young wife?” Song Lingzhou, bold and carefree, asked his own mother.

Lady Lu quickly covered his mouth, glancing at the old master with an awkward tug at the corners of her lips, feeling both embarrassed and annoyed.

The First Lady and Second Lady of the Song family felt the same—if the old master wants to take a concubine, so be it, but to announce it in front of his daughters-in-law and grandchildren is rather excessive.

Song Ci was also furious. This shameless old man! A new young wife? Two beauties aren’t enough; he wants another. Without a doubt, it must be that little vixen, Peony Osmanthus.

Song Ci set down her chopsticks. “See the young master and young ladies back to their quarters first.”

The First Lady immediately signaled to Housekeeper Fang, who led the children out, along with the maids.

With the children gone, only the adults remained. Song Ci finally looked at the old master, her smile cold and false. “You want to take a new young wife?”

Grinding her teeth.

Old Master Song met her gaze, feeling guilty, but thinking of his Peony, he raised his chin and said, “Yes, Peony Lady. I want her as my second wife. You make the arrangements—it doesn’t need to be a grand affair, just invite the in-laws to witness and recognize her.”

“Song Kun, what makes you think your wife would agree to let you take a second wife?” Song Ci grabbed her chopsticks and flung them at him, rising to her feet. “Is it your thick skin? You think you can do as you please? Where do you get the nerve? Would you dare say this before your parents’ memorial tablets in the ancestral hall? If they don’t rise from their graves in outrage, I’ll admit defeat!”

This family, so popular and prosperous, now threatened with division—are you insane!

“I—I'm merely taking a second wife, why shouldn’t I? You're just jealous.”

“So what if I am? Go ahead, divorce me! I dare you!” Song Ci sneered. “Who was it that begged me not to die, saying it wasn’t easy for our eldest son to become a minister? And now, at this critical moment, you slap your own face and feel no pain? You want a second wife, and even wish to invite the in-laws to witness? Ha! With your bloated belly and thick flesh, you may not be ashamed, but I certainly am.”

Song Zhiyuan rested his hands on his knees, his expression still gentle and calm, but his eyes were cold. Peony Lady—she must have some skill to charm Father so much that he wants to make her his second wife.

Old Master Song felt uneasy, avoiding his eldest son’s gaze, mumbling, “It’s only a concubine…”

“A properly elevated second wife is no ordinary concubine! You want a young wife—are you even physically capable?” Song Ci nearly choked with rage. She told Madam Gong, “Go fetch that Peony for me. I want to see for myself how she bewitched this foolish old man, or if she’s a spy sent by another family to disrupt the Song household, to make us the laughingstock of outsiders. She wants my sons to call her ‘Little Mother’? Hah! She’s not worthy!”

Madam Gong answered and left.

Old Master Song gave a nervous sigh. “She’s right outside, don’t frighten her.”

Everyone: “……”

Indeed, only a fool would shield another woman in front of his wife—seeking death!