Chapter Forty-Eight: Knowing One’s Place

Madam Song offered a cup of tea to Song Zhiyuan and then sat down on the other side of the kang table.

“Husband, are you sure we shouldn’t interfere with Mother’s affairs?” she asked hesitantly. “It’s not a problem if Father wishes to take a concubine—we can afford it—but I’m worried Mother might not take it well. She’s not fully recovered yet.”

Song Zhiyuan took a sip of tea and replied, “Judging by Mother’s demeanor just now, she should be fine. Besides, Nanny Gong is there to keep an eye on things.”

Madam Song felt somewhat reassured, but the thought of that pretentious Lady Peony filled her with distaste. “That Wu woman certainly has grand ambitions. What do you think, husband?”

Song Zhiyuan lowered his gaze, his fingers tracing the rim of the teacup, his voice gentle. “Father is already of a certain age; there’s no need for a formal second wife. Having a few young, pretty women to keep him company and chat with is quite enough.”

A glimmer flickered in Madam Song’s eyes as she smiled. “There’s no need for you to trouble yourself with these matters, husband. Leave them to me.”

Song Zhiyuan looked up and smiled at her, then changed the subject.

“The two children of Third Brother’s wife are about to enter the clan school. Make sure all is arranged for them. Xiangyi, our Song family may be prominent now, but our foundation isn’t deep yet. Whether we become a true family of a hundred years depends on how the first three generations manage things. We cannot afford mistakes. Strict self-discipline is necessary, and Su’er’s generation must be carefully nurtured as well.”

“I understand, husband,” Madam Song replied quickly. Remembering what Song Ci had said, she felt a pang of guilt. “There are still too few children in the next generation of our family. It’s a pity I haven’t managed to give you another son.”

Song Zhiyuan could not deny a trace of regret, but he also knew such things could not be forced. He squeezed her hand gently and said, “Children are a matter of fate—one cannot force these things. We’re still young. If Heaven is kind and grants us another, that would be wonderful. If not, so be it. We have Su’er.”

Madam Song’s eyes grew moist. She bit her lip and ventured, “Husband, perhaps I should have Furong attend to you? The midwife said she’s likely to bear children easily.”

Song Zhiyuan raised an eyebrow, pretending to be surprised. “Oh? You’re willing to do that?”

A pang of sourness welled up in Madam Song’s heart, but she forced a smile. “As mistress of the house, it’s my duty to ensure the Song family has more descendants…”

Suddenly, her lips felt a gentle warmth.

Song Zhiyuan pressed a finger to her lips, tapping lightly. “Enough—there’s no need to pretend to be so magnanimous. The jealousy is practically wafting out of the residence. If I had wanted a concubine, I’d have taken one long ago. It’s not about numbers, but quality. Raising Su’er well is what matters most. At worst, we’ll find him a wife who’s good at bearing children, and let him give us a few more grandsons.”

Relief washed over Madam Song—she couldn’t help but feel a sly joy, though she said, “You’re the one refusing, so don’t hold it against me later.”

“How could I dare to blame you, my lady? Otherwise, I’d end up sleeping on the couch at night,” Song Zhiyuan teased, brushing his fingers across her palm, then leaned in to whisper a few private words in her ear.

Madam Song blushed deeply, gave his arm a light punch with her fist.

“My lord, madam,” Furong called softly from behind the curtain.

Madam Song straightened and said, “Come in.”

Furong entered, greeted them with poise, and announced, “Everything has been settled on the Dowager’s side.”

Her voice was clear as she relayed the events at Chunhui Hall.

Both Madam Song and Song Zhiyuan were a little surprised that the matter had been resolved with money alone. “Understood. You may go,” they said.

Furong bowed respectfully, lowered her gaze, and withdrew. At the doorway, she glanced back at the couple, bit her lip, then turned and left.

Song Zhiyuan chuckled lightly. “That Wu woman is quite perceptive and clever.”

She had spared him the trouble of dealing with it himself.