Chapter Seventy-Two: Speaking Sarcastically Can Get You Killed

Lady Song and her two sisters-in-law waited in the main hall, chatting about the various rumors and gossip within the household as they awaited their mother-in-law’s appearance.

“Has Wei’er chosen her courtyard yet?” Second Lady Jiang smiled at Madame Lu and asked, “When is she planning to move in? I, as her second aunt, need to prepare a housewarming gift.”

Madame Lu thanked her with a smile, replying, “It’s all settled. She’ll be moving into the Glass Pavilion, right next to Qi’er’s quarters. Fortunately, Qi’er helped her choose—otherwise, with so many courtyards, she’d have been overwhelmed.”

“The view from the Glass Pavilion is lovely, but it’s a bit small,” Lady Song remarked. “That Flowing Curve Pavilion is as spacious as Qi’er’s Floating Curve Pavilion. I thought she’d pick that one.”

Madame Lu laughed softly, dabbing at her lips with a handkerchief. “She said she loves the hibiscus trees in the Glass Pavilion, and besides, being close to Qi’er means the two sisters can talk easily.”

“That’s true. There aren’t many young ladies left in our household—aside from Qian’er, who’s married, there are only these two now. It’s good for them to be close,” Lady Song sighed.

Jiang pursed her lips with a smile. “Elder sister-in-law, I’m afraid Qi’er won’t be staying much longer either. Isn’t she coming of age at the end of this winter? What are you and the elder brother planning?”

Madame Lu glanced over, intrigued.

By rights, Song Ruqi should have been betrothed already—just as Song Ruqian was, engaged at thirteen, married at sixteen, and expecting a child the following year.

Now, Ruqi was nearly of age, yet there was no sign of a marriage arrangement. Matchmakers had practically worn a path to the Song family’s door, but the couple remained steadfast, insisting she stay a few more years.

The elder brother’s official rank kept rising; now he was a Chancellor. Everyone wondered if the couple had their eyes on a more distinguished match—perhaps even the imperial family.

Within the royal family, aside from the eldest prince who was wed, there were still three or four eligible princes.

Song Zhiyuan’s position was highly sought after, and more than one family was eager to form an alliance.

Though Ruqi’s temperament was somewhat spoiled and willful, not ideal for a prince’s bride, she was still the legitimate second daughter of Chancellor Song, a status noble enough to match a prince. If it happened, the Song family’s prestige would rise yet another notch and benefit their sons and daughters for generations.

Madame Lu’s heart warmed at the thought.

Lady Song caught sight of Madame Lu, pretending to be composed but obviously listening intently, and smiled with a hint of satisfaction. “Though I am her mother, Qi’er’s marriage is her father’s domain. I have no say in the matter.”

“Elder sister-in-law, what are you saying? You’re the mistress of the house. No matter what, the elder brother won’t bypass you—he’ll surely consult you about Qi’er’s marriage.” Jiang sighed. “Ah, speaking of daughters marrying, it’s always heartbreaking. You raise them with care, and in a blink, they belong to another family. It’s sorrowful to think of. Honestly, I envy you both so much. Why can’t I have a daughter myself?”

Lady Song and Madame Lu exchanged silent ellipses in their hearts, thinking if other women heard this, they’d want to strike you. It’s difficult enough for others to bear sons, and you’ve had two, yet here you are making light of it.

Even for them, though they each had a son, it wasn’t enough—just that their bodies weren’t cooperating.

“You and the second uncle just need to try harder,” Lady Song teased.

Jiang, once a merchant, had heard her share of risqué jokes and wasn’t embarrassed in the least. She nodded, “Absolutely. I’ll have to produce a girl somehow. Conveniently, Doctor Lin is here with mother—I’ll see if she can check my pulse and prescribe something.”

Just then, Song Ci emerged from the inner chambers, catching the tail end of their conversation. “Prescribe what, exactly?”