Chapter 41: Madam
Song Hemei had never imagined she would meet him under such circumstances.
The stirrings and concerns she herself had never truly acknowledged had long since worn away over the three years, bit by bit. She herself had forgotten when she had stopped paying close attention to whether he had returned.
Three years was too long. Day after day passed, one worry after another piled up. The regrets and grievances of the past had long been swallowed with every meal, never to be brought up again. To hold onto a persistent memory was a luxury only the idle could afford.
Yet she had never expected that she would still remember Yu Yeqing so clearly. So clearly that even now, across this distance, she could still see how much he had changed compared to before.
He was more composed than before, slowly and deliberately turning the cup in his hand. The eyes that had always carried a hint of aloofness now held an even stronger air of unfamiliarity. The moment their gazes met, he looked away so swiftly that she wondered if the eye contact had been her imagination.
Three years of immersion seemed to have layered upon him a deterrent that made others dare not approach. It made Shao Wen'ang, who sat beside him with a fawning smile, look even more vulgar and pathetic.
Song Hemei felt a sense of shame.
People often said a husband and wife are one. Shao Wen'ang was her face as well, and she felt that she herself was being dragged down by it.
The manservant beside her, seeing her standing still, urged her tactfully: "Madam, don't keep the master and the honored guest waiting."
Song Hemei took a deep breath and continued forward.
But with each step forward, she felt her heart beating faster in a way she found shameful. Perhaps it was inevitable to feel some turbulence at a long separation reunited, or perhaps she truly felt that Shao Wen'ang was a disgrace.
Who would want to meet an old acquaintance while looking so wretched?
Shao Wen'ang was her wretchedness.
His fawning, flattering, and groveling—what difference was there from shouting at the top of his lungs that he was living a hard life and needed to cling to someone for survival?
Perhaps the more one fears something, the more one imagines others can see it at a glance.
Song Hemei felt that her embarrassment, thanks to Shao Wen'ang, was laid bare before Yu Yeqing with no cover. It seemed to prove that he had been right to leave quickly back then; that he should never have gotten tangled up with her in the first place.
Every road has its end. She approached the pavilion step by step until the lantern light inside illuminated her, exposing her fully before others. Yet she instinctively bowed her head, lowered her eyes, and spoke softly: "Husband summoned me."
Shao Wen'ang turned his head, let out two loud laughs, and right there in front of Yu Yeqing, he grabbed her wrist: "Mei'er, you're finally back. I've waited for you a long time. How is the household? How are your father and mother?"
Song Hemei's body froze abruptly. She couldn't help but instinctively look toward Yu Yeqing.
But what she saw was him looking normal, lifting his eyes to glance at her as if he were merely a bystander watching the show.
Song Hemei felt as if cold water had been thrown over her, pulling her back from those self-deceiving conjectures and forcing her back into the position of Madam Shao.
An inexplicable sense of loss engulfed her, yet it also calmed her mind, which had been a jumble of thoughts. She gradually relaxed her body, managing to maintain a smile as she answered: "Still the same as always. Husband called me here—is there something you need?"
She gently twisted her wrist, feigning shyness, and added in a low voice: "There are still guests present."
Shao Wen'ang seemed to suddenly come to his senses and released her. Then he said to Yu Yeqing: "Lord Yu, this is my wife. Do you still remember her? Before marriage, she was from the Song family of Changzhou, the second daughter of the house. I heard that you once lodged with the Song family; I wonder if you've met my wife before?"
Yu Yeqing did not answer immediately. He set down the cup he had been fiddling with on the table, and his aloof eyes slowly shifted to Song Hemei, as if appraising her.
A silence fell over the pavilion. Silence so deep that Song Hemei could once again hear the beating of her own heart.
Before, her emotions had overwhelmed her, and she had overlooked the fact that Yu Yeqing had come as the Imperial Investigating Censor. Shao Wen'ang was clearly pretending ignorance while knowing full well. His words were also cautious.
What "lodging" had it been? Calling it a servant's stay would have been more accurate.
Back then, he had come and gone from the Song residence so frequently—how could he not have seen Yu Yeqing? He clearly wanted to curry favor, yet he wasn't sure if mentioning the past lowliness would be appropriate. So he called her over, using her as a pretext to probe.
The silence stretched on for too long. Just when Shao Wen'ang thought he had brought up something he shouldn't have and was about to laugh it off and change the subject, Yu Yeqing suddenly spoke: "Second Miss Song?"
He paused, then raised his eyes to meet Song Hemei's gaze, speaking word by word: "Not very familiar."
His low voice seemed to sound right beside her ear. Song Hemei felt her throat tighten. She was the first to look away, dropping her eyes again, acting as if she hadn't heard anything.
Only Shao Wen'ang laughed awkwardly and stepped in to smooth things over: "Look at me, I'm truly muddled. After all, my wife was a maiden behind closed doors—how could she have met a man from outside? Please don't take offense, Lord Yu, don't take offense."
He then called out to Song Hemei: "Come, fill Lord Yu's cup."
Song Hemei instinctively clenched her hand inside her sleeve.
She understood clearly that her circumstances had changed, that time was different now. Yu Yeqing had become a high official to be fawned upon. Yet she still found it immensely difficult to take that step.
Pour wine for him? In the past, he had been the one serving her.
But Yu Yeqing didn't speak, which was tacit agreement. She had no choice but to slightly bend her body in acknowledgment and then walk slowly toward him.
Her eyes swept over the table, and she noticed there was no wine jug—only a teapot. And because she was standing a little closer to Yu Yeqing, she could tell there was no smell of alcohol.
She reached out to pick up the teapot, but then saw Yu Yeqing raise his hand to gently cover his cup, his long fingers tapping lightly on the table: "Madam need not force yourself."
Song Hemei's body stiffened. Was her reluctance so obvious?
Before she could speak, Shao Wen'ang interjected: "How could that be? Mei'er is the most obedient and understanding, gentle and docile. Let her do it. She enjoys these things."
Yu Yeqing, hearing this, did not move his hand away. Instead, he fixed his eyes on her: "Is that so?"
Song Hemei felt even more rigid, a vein pulsing at her temple. She truly wanted to sew Shao Wen'ang's mouth shut so he would stop talking.
She opened her mouth, the forced "yes" hovering on her lips, hesitant to come out, but Shao Wen'ang answered for her again: "Of course. A wife is chosen for virtue, and my wife is the most virtuous and gentle."
Song Hemei really couldn't stand it anymore. Wanting to interrupt him, she could only call out softly: "Husband."
Yu Yeqing tapped the table with his fingertip, then slowly lifted the cup from his hand, seeming to examine the pattern on it: "Changzhou is not exactly close. Even riding fast horses, a round trip should still take ten-odd days, I presume?"
Shao Wen'ang answered eagerly: "Yes, but my wife is filial and often returns home to visit. She's gotten familiar with the road and can make it a little faster."
He seemed to think of something then, and asked: "Mei'er, have you eaten on your way back?"
Song Hemei had already eaten. Never mind the saying "poor at home, prosperous on the road"; she never shortchanged herself in that regard.
But she wanted to leave. Standing here felt degrading. So she simply shook her head lightly.
"That won't do," he clucked his tongue, then turned to the manservant beside him and ordered: "Quickly, bring Mei'er a set of bowls and chopsticks."
Then he turned back to face Yu Yeqing, cupping his hands: "Please forgive me, my lord."
Yu Yeqing said nothing. He switched the cup to his other hand and finally placed it on the right.
That was the direction closer to Shao Wen'ang. Shao Wen'ang immediately understood, took the teapot from Song Hemei's hand, and filled Yu Yeqing's cup: "You are generous, my lord. Mei'er, come sit here by my side."
Song Hemei had no choice. She braced herself and sat down.
Fortunately, their subsequent conversation did not turn back to her.
She picked at the food, chewing slowly to pass the time, while listening to Shao Wen'ang ramble in every possible way about his achievements since taking up his post in Linzhou. He also tried every means to hint at Senior Lord Shao's past affairs, which he himself was completely unaware of. Yu Yeqing merely listened, occasionally uttering an ambiguous word or two.
He was still as laconic as before, but now, listening carefully, she felt that his terseness was perfectly timed—he responded when appropriate and fell silent when not, letting Shao Wen'ang chatter on endlessly.
Song Hemei felt that sense of shame creeping back up. She wanted to stomp on his foot under the table to signal him to stop—the more he talked, the more he blundered. Making a superior think he was a coward who wouldn't even spare a thought for his own father—was that a good thing?
But she didn't dare stomp, afraid he would turn around and ask her why she was stepping on him.
Though Yu Yeqing was drinking tea, Shao Wen'ang was drinking wine. Sitting next to him, the foul, stinking smell of alcohol was even more obvious in the summer heat, making food that she wasn't hungry for in the first place truly hard to swallow.
All these years, he had prided himself on being worldly and sophisticated. Now that he had fallen to a low point, shouldn't he be reflecting more?
Why hadn't he realized—if Yu Yeqing wouldn't even drink wine, then the business deal was impossible. Even if he came to the residence, it was pure pretense.
In worldly affairs, fortune never comes in pairs, but misfortune never comes alone. Only today did she learn that shame, too, comes again and again.
She saw that Shao Wen'ang had drunk too much. The corners of his mouth seemed about to start drooling.
Over the past few years, in order to regain what he had lost, he had taken countless folk remedies and elixirs. His body had long since deteriorated. Now it seemed the effects were about to show.
Song Hemei tensed up immediately. It wasn't that she was worried about Shao Wen'ang; it was that she didn't want Yu Yeqing to see this.
Three years apart, and now they met again, and he wouldn't even leave her a shred of dignity?
She wanted to turn and signal the manservant, but saw he was keeping watch far away. Having no other choice, she herself took out her handkerchief to wipe Shao Wen'ang's mouth, putting on a gentle appearance and whispering: "Husband, don't drink anymore. It's getting late. It's time to let Lord Yu return and rest."
The moment her words fell, she suddenly felt a burning gaze fall upon her, as if it would set her entire arm ablaze.
She did not dare turn back to confirm the source of that gaze. She could only steel herself, suppress her disgust, and carefully wipe Shao Wen'ang's lips back and forth.
"Mei'er, you've been away for days and don't yet know—Lord Yu is temporarily staying at our residence."
Song Hemei was startled. She hesitated: "How can that be? We would be treating Lord Yu shabbily."
"You flatter me, Madam."
Yu Yeqing suddenly spoke. It was also the first time that night he had taken the initiative to address her.
She instinctively turned her head and saw that his dark pupils seemed to carry some emotion she couldn't identify, making her heart jolt.
His thin lips moved slightly, as if he were speaking casually: "Only that in summer, there are many mosquitoes."
His eyes moved, his gaze seeming to fall on the hand she had used to wipe Shao Wen'ang. But before she could discern it, he looked away. "It would be good for Lord Shao to return and rest early as well."
Once he gave the word, Song Hemei was finally liberated. Suppressing her disgust, she stuffed her handkerchief into Shao Wen'ang's hand, stood up, and called for someone to help him back to rest immediately.
Supported by the manservant, Shao Wen'ang stood up shakily, still smiling as he cupped his hands to Yu Yeqing: "I'm out of line, I'm out of line. Please excuse my rudeness, Lord Yu."
He turned and instructed Song Hemei: "Mei'er, have someone prepare some mugwort to fumigate Lord Yu's room."
Song Hemei didn't care what he said at this point. She hurriedly agreed, only wishing to send him back quickly and stop him from continuing to make a spectacle.
But once he was finally gone, she realized.
Here, only she and Yu Yeqing remained.
She heard a buzzing in her ears. Her eyes fell on the shadows on the ground, and she could clearly see the person behind her stand up. His tall, slender figure approached step by step, and the shadow he cast enveloped her entirely.
Pathetically, her mind went blank. And perhaps because of that, she found her sense of smell had become sharper. The scent of ink from Yu Yeqing seemed to cross the three years and once again coil around her.
"Madam Shao."
Yu Yeqing spoke, his low, husky voice carrying an ambiguous sneer.
"Do you need me, this humble official, to guide you?"
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