Chapter Fifty-Seven: Lady Song’s Great Malice

The shop assistant at Shangzhen Pavilion was sweating profusely, caught in a difficult situation. Of all days, two young mistresses had come—neither could be offended. Faced with Zhao Mingyao’s “threat,” he was at a loss for words, his cheeks flushing with anxiety.

“What, you won’t sell it for double? Then surely you’ll take triple the price?” Zhao Mingyao, now exasperated, glared at the assistant, her eyes almost blazing.

He forced a nervous smile and looked toward Song Ruqi. The latter’s expression shifted, her lips pressed into a thin line.

“Second Sister…” Song Ruwei was on the verge of tears, tugging at Song Ruqi’s sleeve.

At that moment, Song Ci approached. “What have you got your eyes on?” she asked. “It’s nearly noon—let’s settle the bill quickly and go eat.”

She casually took the hairpin from Zhao Mingyao’s hand. “After all this time, this is the only thing you want?”

Zhao Mingyao stared in disbelief at her now empty hand.

“Grandmother.”

Upon seeing Song Ci, Song Ruqi inexplicably felt as if she’d found her anchor. Song Ruwei, too, seemed as though she’d been granted amnesty, bowing to Song Ci. “Grandmother, we’ve finished choosing.”

Now that Grandmother was here, they had someone to back them up.

“Oh? So you’re here too,” Song Ci said, as if she’d only just noticed her two granddaughters. Then she turned to Zhao Mingyao, feigning surprise. “And this lovely young lady—whose child might she be? My old eyes nearly mistook her for one of my own granddaughters.”

Zhao Mingyao recovered from her astonishment. Seeing the silver hair and wrinkled, smiling face before her, and recalling the woman’s rank—not only a titled lady of the first order, but also a senior of her grandmother’s generation—she could do nothing but bend her knee, however grudgingly. “Zhao Mingyao pays her respects to the Dowager.”

Song Ruqi felt somewhat triumphant. No matter how arrogant you are, before my grandmother, you still have to bow.

“No need for such formalities,” Song Ci waved her hand and lifted the hairpin. “It seems I’ve made a mistake—does this belong to you?”

Song Ruqi grew anxious. “Grandmother, this is the hairpin Third Sister fancied. We were just about to pay for it, but Zhao Mingyao insisted on fighting us for it!”

“Is that so?” Song Ci looked to Zhao Mingyao.

“My younger sister’s birthday is this month,” Zhao Mingyao replied. “I thought this hairpin would suit her, so I wanted to give it as a present. Dowager, would your esteemed house be willing to grant this little favor?”

“Nonsense! Everyone knows you dislike your half-sisters the most. Who would believe you’d be so thoughtful as to buy a birthday present? Clearly you’re just picking a fight with us out of spite!” Song Ruqi scoffed.

Zhao Mingyao was just about to retort when Song Ci interjected, “Ruqi, you mustn’t be rude to Her Highness, the County Princess Hehui. Apologize at once.”

“But, Grandmother…” Song Ruqi was stunned. Wasn’t it supposed to be ‘whoever stirs up trouble first is in the wrong’? The other party started it, shouldn’t we fight back?

“Apologize.”

Song Ruqi’s eyes filled with tears. Under Song Ci’s stern gaze and slight shake of the head, she lowered her eyes and mumbled an apology.

Zhao Mingyao smiled smugly. “The Dowager truly understands proper etiquette—unlike certain others.”

Song Ruqi burned with anger, biting her lip hard.

“As for etiquette and decorum,” Song Ci continued with a faint smile, “the Prime Minister’s household is well-versed. And as the County Princess, personally tutored by Princess Chunping, you must be even more exemplary.”

“Of course,” Zhao Mingyao said proudly.

“Splendid! I knew the rules instilled by Princess Chunping would never be lacking. And as a true lady, the County Princess surely knows that a gentleman does not covet what others desire. Come, Wei’er, put it on—the County Princess was just teasing you. She never meant to snatch it away.” Song Ci handed the hairpin to Song Ruwei.

Zhao Mingyao was taken aback. “No, this hairpin…”

“What’s this? Does the County Princess wish to take what another desires?” Song Ci feigned distress and sighed. “I had so hoped to learn more about etiquette from Princess Chunping, but perhaps I was mistaken.”

Zhao Mingyao was speechless.

She had been wrong—if the younger one was tricky, the elder was even craftier. It was as if a trap had been laid, covered in grass, just waiting for her to fall in.