Chapter 120: Taking a Husband
When Song Hemei opened her eyes, she found herself sitting on a long wooden bench in the corridor of the Song residence. Her head ached slightly, likely from having fallen asleep leaning against the wooden pillar beside her.
She was still a little dazed. When she raised her hand to rub her head, she realized she was holding a handkerchief in it, embroidered with an ill-omened character—Shao.
The next instant, Chunhui ran toward her. She looked much younger than she should be. Kneeling beside Hemei's legs, her face full of concern: "Young Lady, how are you? Does it still hurt? Young Master Shao has already entered the main courtyard; he will be able to come see you soon. Delaying the wedding is unavoidable—who could have expected that Old Master Shao would pass away at this time? Young Master Shao must feel terrible too."
Song Hemei was stunned by these words. As she instinctively tried to stand up, a sharp pain shot from her ankle, and she belatedly recalled what had happened.
The year she turned fifteen, Old Master Shao died of illness, and Shao Wen'ang had to observe filial mourning, so the Shao family came to discuss postponing the marriage.
She had been anxious to see him, worried that he was too grief-stricken, and had rushed off in a flurry to check on him. But she had accidentally twisted her ankle and had to sit in the corridor to rest. Later, Shao Wen'ang came over, glanced at her hastily, accepted the handkerchief she had given him, said a few words born of guilt, and then left.
But now, looking at the handkerchief in her hand, Song Hemei felt the ill omen even more strongly. She figured she must be unlucky, to have slept all the way back to six years ago. When she thought about it carefully, at this time Shao Wen'ang had probably already taken Cao Lingchun into his household.
She quickly pulled Chunhui up: "Go send him away immediately. I don't want to see him."
Chunhui's eyes widened in surprise. Song Hemei didn't explain further; she simply gave her a gentle push: "Go on, go on."
After the maid left, utterly bewildered, to carry out the order, Song Hemei looked at the handkerchief in her hand and found it more and more displeasing. She wanted to throw it away directly, but the handkerchief had the Shao character she had embroidered herself, while the rest of the pattern was all Chunhui's handiwork. Throwing it away entirely would be a waste of Chunhui's effort. She pondered for a moment—better to just cut out the Shao character and keep using it.
Just as she was thinking this, she caught a glimpse of a shadowy figure flashing by in the corner of her eye. Song Hemei looked over, but could only see the hem of a robe in the darkness.
"Who's there?"
After a brief silence, the person no longer hid. He slowly stepped out from around the corner.
She followed the figure upward and saw a face that was familiar yet thinner than in her memory.
Song Hemei was amused.
The words came to her lips, but she rationally changed course: "Yu… Young Master Yu, what are you doing hiding there?"
Yu Yeqing was only seventeen this year. He was tall and slender, standing a short distance away without raising his head. He cupped his hands in greeting: "Second Miss, I was merely passing by and did not mean to intrude—"
"Enough, I don't care if you were passing by or not. Come here."
Yu Yeqing lifted his gaze to look at her, his ink-black eyes full of astonishment. He seemed to hesitate for a moment, but eventually walked slowly to stand before her.
Song Hemei could see at a glance how nervous he was—even his posture while walking was different from usual. She looked at the man standing before her, distant and restrained, completely unlike the one who, six years later, would always hold her for no reason.
She found it novel and amusing. She crossed her arms in front of her chest and deliberately teased him: "Are you that afraid of me? Standing so far away, what's the matter?"
Yu Yeqing's Adam's apple bobbed. "It's not that. I just didn't want to be too forward toward Second Miss."
Song Hemei clicked her tongue. "Oh? You still want to be forward with me?"
Yu Yeqing's breath caught. He looked up at her in shock: "I—"
"Come over. Closer." Song Hemei tilted her head and smiled at him. "I twisted my ankle. What am I to do now, Young Master Yu?"
Yu Yeqing's eyes darted away. His hands tightened within his sleeves, as if he were struggling and hesitating. Then, slowly, he crouched down in front of her, looking up at her. "Perhaps I can take a look at it for Second Miss."
His voice was very soft—both restrained and as if he feared she would refuse.
Song Hemei was quite surprised. She hadn't expected him to be so bold at this age—for an unmarried man and woman, he dared to touch her ankle.
She didn't hold back. She stretched her leg forward a little. "Go ahead."
Yu Yeqing was somewhat nervous. It was already autumn, and the wind had chilled his hands. He rubbed his palms together to generate some warmth before daring to reach out and cup her ankle.
Now that Song Hemei was closer to him, she could clearly see that his ears had turned completely red. She could also hear his breathing, which was heavier now than before—audible only up close.
If she had to choose, she would still prefer the Yu Yeqing from six years later. After all, at this age he was still young, his manners restrained. Asking him to come closer felt like asking him to commit some unpardonable sin. Otherwise, why would she have thought that he was unwilling to be with her back then?
But as she studied him carefully, considering that by now he must already have feelings for her, she wondered: when he spoke to her like this, was he happy?
To be honest, even with the answer already in hand, she truly couldn't see where the happiness lay. All she saw was nervousness and unease.
His fingers gently massaged her ankle. The already negligible pain vanished completely. But she still leaned in a little closer and asked, "Young Master Yu, you must have been hiding there for quite a while, right?"
Yu Yeqing's hands paused, and his entire body stiffened. From her angle, she could see his long lashes trembling.
Song Hemei put on a stern face and grabbed his hand. "I've never seen your hands this cold. How long were you standing there? Wearing so little, and still standing in the draft?"
Yu Yeqing looked up in surprise. For a moment, he didn't know whether to pay attention to her words or pull his hand back.
His voice was a little hoarse: "Second Miss—"
"Enough, don't say anything."
Song Hemei opened her arms to him. "Carry me back. Then you can go home immediately."
Yu Yeqing's breath caught. Without thinking, he was about to refuse: "This is improper."
"And rubbing my ankle—was that proper?"
Song Hemei deliberately drew out her tone: "If you don't carry me back, I'll have to sit here for a long time. It's very cold, you know."
Yu Yeqing struggled, hesitated, and finally, against his wildly pounding heart, stiffly nodded.
He turned around. His broad shoulders still seemed thin and fragile. Song Hemei unceremoniously looped her arms around his neck and pressed her full weight onto him.
Though he had agreed to carry her, when it came time to actually lift her, his hands didn't dare touch her legs.
Song Hemei leaned close to his crimson ear and lowered her voice: "Do you expect me to hang on you with my own strength?"
Yu Yeqing closed his eyes. Only then did he place his hands on the bend of her knees and steadily hoist her onto his back.
Seeing him like this, Song Hemei couldn't resist teasing him further: "Young Master Yu, your ears are very red. Did you know that?"
As she spoke, she gently rubbed her cheek against his. When she sensed his step falter, she deliberately added, "Sorry, Young Master Yu. You don't mind, do you?"
Yu Yeqing was frozen stiff. His mind buzzed with ringing noises. The only thing moving was his legs, carrying him forward.
Song Hemei continued: "You were standing there for so long. You must have heard everything—my wedding has been postponed."
Yu Yeqing's thin lips pressed together slightly. His long lashes drooped, carrying a hint of melancholy, but he still offered words of comfort: "Second Miss must not take it to heart. Lovers who are meant to be will not be separated for long."
Song Hemei thought his words made some sense. They had been apart for three years, and when they finally looked back, nothing had really been lost.
She leaned toward his ear, her breath brushing against it as she spoke: "Young Master Yu, my wedding fell through. Are you happy?"
Yu Yeqing's Adam's apple shifted. After a moment of struggle, he said, "No. I hope that Second Miss's marriage will be a happy one."
"You're lying."
Song Hemei exposed him directly. "Every time you lie, your voice changes."
Yu Yeqing fell silent. After a long while, he forced out a single sentence: "Second Miss, please stop teasing me."
"How could it be teasing?"
"Then why does Second Miss say such things—as if she knows me very well?" Yu Yeqing took a deep breath and adjusted her weight more securely on his back, as if to prove that his mind was truly free of distraction. "I sincerely hope that Second Miss's marriage will be a happy one."
Song Hemei felt that he was no fun at all at this age. Though he was young, she couldn't even get a few soft, warm words out of him. So she deliberately asked, "And whom do you hope I'll be happily married to? Shao Wen'ang or you?"
Yu Yeqing's steps faltered, causing even her to sway slightly.
Song Hemei laughed. "So nervous? What, asking you one question and you're about to drop me?"
"I won't drop you."
Yu Yeqing tossed out those three dry words, but refused to say anything more.
Song Hemei's irritation dissolved at his dull demeanor. She let out a light sigh: "Forget it, forget it. I knew you were the type that wouldn't even cry out when you're kicked."
She leaned in and kissed him on the cheek.
"Second Miss!"
Yu Yeqing's breath caught, and his steps came to a halt. If he hadn't been exercising restraint, he might have thrown her off. Fortunately, Song Hemei had foreseen that he wouldn't take teasing well and had already wrapped her arms tightly around his neck.
"Why are you yelling? Do you want to bring everyone here?"
Song Hemei laughed. "I won't marry Shao Wen'ang—not now, not ever. But I think you're not bad. If I were to tell my parents that I want to recruit you as a son-in-law, would you be willing?"
Yu Yeqing's expression was dazed. The words crashed over him, leaving him stunned, but his heart refused to stop pounding.
Song Hemei kissed his cheek again. It was so amusing—one kiss and he turned red all over.
"Think it over carefully. Once this opportunity is gone, it won't come again."
Seeing that they had reached her courtyard, she patted Yu Yeqing's shoulder to signal him to put her down.
"Alright, go back now."
Watching his bewildered and frightened expression, she took off her outer cloak and draped it over him. It might look mismatched, but it would certainly keep him warm.
"Wear it properly and don't take it off."
With that, she walked steadily back into the courtyard right in front of him, moving even faster than when he had been carrying her.
Once inside the room, Song Hemei lay down on the bed, drowsy. Her mind drifted to the idea of recruiting a son-in-law, and she felt happy.
Though she had returned to this time, and Yu Yeqing's personality was still that dull and restrained version, being able to spend a few more years with him—that was pretty good too.
When Song Hemei woke again, she was lying on a lounge chair in the Yu residence in the Capital.
Her gaze shifted to the person beside her. Yu Yeqing was holding their daughter, Chiyin, helping her practice calligraphy. When he sensed her gaze, he turned and smiled at her, then jostled the little girl in his arms: "Mama is awake."
Song Hemei raised a hand to press her temple. She felt a deep sense of regret.
She hadn't even managed to do anything truly outrageous to the seventeen-year-old Yu Yeqing. It had all just been a dream.
She couldn't help but let out a heavy sigh.
Yu Yeqing set their daughter down on a round stool, then rose and walked over to crouch beside her. He asked with concern, "Is something wrong?"
Song Hemei's voice was muffled. "I'm not feeling well inside. I dreamed about you just now."
Yu Yeqing familiarly took her hand and asked with care, "What did you dream about? Did I do something bad to you in the dream?"
When she had been pregnant, she often had dreams like that. It had only gotten better after giving birth to Chiyin.
Song Hemei said seriously, "I wanted to recruit you as a son-in-law, and you hadn't agreed to me yet."
Yu Yeqing's ink-black eyes studied her, his gaze full of delight. "Is that so good? Even in your dreams you want to recruit me? I should have gone into the dream with you."
Song Hemei nodded, then opened her arms to him: "I want to go back to the room and keep sleeping, to try and continue the dream."
Yu Yeqing didn't refuse. He bent down and scooped her up horizontally, without any of the stiffness from the dream. His hands unceremoniously wrapped around her waist, guiding her to lean against his chest.
Song Hemei looked at him—at his relaxed expression and ears that showed no reaction—and clicked her tongue twice: "Now you don't even blush when you look at me."
Yu Yeqing carried her into the room and set her down on the bed. As usual, he kissed her on the lips. But because Chiyin was still outside, he only brushed her lips briefly before pulling back.
A smile lingered in his eyes: "If I blushed every time I held you, I'd be too busy blushing and never get anything else done."
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