TFSRITA Chapter 54

Song Chuan couldn’t help but remind him.

Since they were here, of course, they had to meet.

There was no Emperor Chen here, nor were there any scheming concubines to be wary of.

It would be good to speak any heartfelt words; hopefully, their young master could let go of his feelings.

Song Yu rested one hand on the round table, holding a cup of tea that remained untouched. The liquid swayed slightly as his gaze drifted, lost in thought.

Suddenly, he stood up and said in a deep voice, “Let’s go.”

“Understood.” Song Chuan was delighted and immediately opened the door.

It was easy to find the young lady from the Yan family. As soon as they stepped outside, they spotted her in a corridor, surrounded by several guards and palace maids.

The sound of poetry reciting grew louder after a brief pause.

Everyone wanted to show off in front of the beauty who had just arrived.

When Song Yu approached, he was immediately stopped by the guards.

“Please inform her that my surname is Song.” Song Yu greeted politely.

The guard hesitated for a moment, glancing at the maid beside him.

The maid looked at the young man, blushed, nodded hurriedly, knocked on the door, and softly said, “A young master named Song wishes to pay his respects.”

“Let him in.” The door opened, revealing a young woman with an expressionless face.

Song Yu’s heart stirred, and he strode forward as the palace maid and guards stepped aside.

Upon entering, he saw Yan Qing sitting inside, with Zhu Yin standing beside her.

Zhu Yin’s eyes brightened upon seeing Song Yu. “Young Master Song!”

Song Yu politely nodded.

Zhu Yin’s eyes darted around, and without lingering, she grabbed Zhu Yin and headed out. “Let’s go downstairs and order some snacks.”

She seemed worried that Zhu Yin might object, pulling her out and quickly closing the door behind them.

Zhu Yin opened her mouth to protest, but Yan Qing’s glance silenced her, leaving her looking somewhat distressed.

It was fine for them to meet, but being alone together might not be appropriate, given the circumstances of a lone man and woman.

Zhu Yin, however, didn’t seem to care much about that. She eagerly dragged Zhu Yin downstairs. “Let’s go; don’t just stand here.”

Zhu Yin replied, “…Okay.”

…

“…Qing’er.” Song Yu called softly.

Yan Qing smiled and gestured for him to sit, taking a moment to assess him.

Song Yu had lost quite a bit of weight; his clothes seemed ill-fitting and a bit loose, even more so than the official attire he had worn when they last met. He wore a moon-white long robe, his skin pale almost to the point of being sickly. His dark brows contrasted with his deep-set eyes, the darkest feature on his face.

Upon closer inspection, Yan Qing noticed he had the same peach blossom eyes as Ji Yecheng—not the slender kind, but slightly rounded in the middle with pointed ends, resembling petals.

However, those eyes now held a hint of sorrow.

While she studied Song Yu, he was also examining her.

The last time they met was at the Mid-Autumn banquet, where she had looked frighteningly thin, leaving him feeling sorrowful for a long time. Now, she looked slightly better than during the banquet, with a much improved complexion, charming brows and eyes, and tender pink lips.

Song Yu dared only to glance once before immediately lowering his eyes.

The room fell into a brief silence.

Yan Qing finally broke the quiet, saying, “What do you plan to do next? Will you enter the court to serve, or will you rest at home?”

Song Yu’s gaze momentarily froze at the sound of her voice, but he quickly recalled her previous injuries. Given the lingering effects, this reaction was to be expected. His heart felt heavy, and he dared not dwell on it, replying, “I want to go to the Northern Desert.”

That was his plan.

A crazy plan he had never dared to share with anyone.

The Song family had been military officials for generations, and Song Yu was the exception. He wasn’t the only son, but he was indeed the smartest child of the Song family, truly proficient in both literature and martial arts, though his passion lay more in poetry than in warfare.

He had met the original owner at a poetry event.

With his talent, he had once expressed his greatest wish to do practical work for the people.

However, that dream was now under threat, and he wanted to fight back.

…

Song Yu expected Yan Qing to be surprised, angry, or even to question him, but instead, her eyebrows raised slightly, revealing a hint of happiness.

Yan Qing didn’t deliberately mimic the original owner; her body still held the original’s habits, but fundamentally, she was, straightforward.

Upon hearing Song Yu’s intention to go to the Northern Desert, she immediately thought of the original work, where after the original owner’s death, he had also chosen to go to the Northern Desert. As a general, he had used his strength to subdue the rebellious soldiers, seizing the tiger talisman. After punishing the surrounding rebels, he marched back into Chang’an with his army.

Emperor Chen only had the imperial guards; although Chang’an was within his control, due to his inaction during his reign, the Song family’s reputation had risen, and after the rebellion, many defected to their side while only a few resisted. Thus, Emperor Chen surrendered without a fight, handing over the throne.

However, by the time Song Yu entered Chang’an and stormed the palace, only the terrified concubines and Empress Jiang remained, while Ji Yecheng had long disappeared with Jiang Wende.

So, Song Yu’s words implied…

Yan Qing asked, “Are you planning to rebel?”

Her voice was hoarse but quiet enough for the two in the room to hear.

Song Yu’s heart jolted; his pupils dilated, and he clenched his hands on his knees, his lips pressed tightly together, momentarily speechless.

Yan Qing felt even happier; she had hit the mark.

It was good that he wanted to rebel; she hoped for his success, so he could seize the tiger talisman and dethrone Ji Yecheng.

She said in a low voice, “Work hard; I support you.”

Thinking she would be shocked or scold him for being unfilial, Song Yu was left speechless, “…??”

Though he shouldn’t have felt this way, at that moment, he instinctively thought that Yan Qing’s tone was reminiscent of how his father used to scold him.