Song Chuyi glanced at White Blade’s belly, then turned and got back into the carriage. As for partings and bereavements and whatnot, she had long since grown tired of seeing them.
“Sir…” Ji Yu called out to stop her, wanting to ask her to make a decision on whether to let Ning Ya go see her mother.
Song Chuyi naturally understood what he meant, and said mildly, “Do not ask me about such trivial matters. You only need to ensure that Ning Ya travels with the caravan safe and sound.”
Ji Huan looked at Song Chuyi’s retreating figure and chuckled, then turned to Ji Yu and said, “Sir is still kindhearted after all.”
Song Chuyi’s kindness was built on the foundation of pushing everyone else out to do the wicked deeds. Ji Yu had discovered another of her bad traits, and could not help but snort through his nose. “Once he starts being kindhearted, we all become villains.”
Ji Huan thought about it, but still did not quite understand, and only said, “Then I will take this girl to see her mother.”
Song Chuyi climbed into the carriage and saw Longgu Buwang still huddled in the corner reflecting on himself, so she did not speak to him. Instead, she set White Blade down and used meat to tease it. “White Blade, tsk tsk tsk, come here.”
“White Blade, tsk tsk tsk…”
Whether or not this snow wolf understood that it was called White Blade, in any case, upon seeing the meat in Song Chuyi’s hand, it came running over happily with “peng peng peng” sounds on the carriage boards.
“White Blade.”
“Peng peng peng.”
“White Blade.”
“Peng peng peng.”
“White Blade.”
…
Longgu Buwang clenched his fists tightly. Be calm… be indifferent… be detached…
“If you want to train it, go outside. Do not bother me.” Veins bulged on Longgu Buwang’s forehead, and he decided to be detached tomorrow instead.
“Mmm, young people still have a bit of fire in them, and that is more likable.” Song Chuyi held a piece of meat with chopsticks and held it at a neither-too-high-nor-too-low position, idly training White Blade to stand up.
Respecting one’s teacher and honoring the Way was something every scholar would strictly observe. Longgu Buwang was rebellious, but he was not a disobedient person. He had openly reprimanded Yi Shikui because he had never performed the formal ceremony of acknowledging Yi Shikui as his teacher, and he had likewise never performed the ceremony for Song Chuyi. The reason he was willing to endure was that he felt Song Chuyi truly had real learning, and the lessons taught happened to be exactly the content he liked. But after the past two days of instruction, he truly could not bear it anymore. In fact, if Song Chuyi had been an elder, Longgu Buwang might not necessarily have been so disrespectful. Although while Song Chuyi was lecturing, he would mostly forget her age, in daily life, facing a youth who looked even younger than himself, it was very hard to feel respect for an elder from the bottom of his heart.
After shouting, Longgu Buwang felt some regret in his heart.
And this subtle trace of emotion was easily caught by Song Chuyi. She immediately changed tactics and released the meat held in the chopsticks. In the carriage, there was only the whining sound White Blade made while gnawing on the meat.
Song Chuyi threw on her greatcoat, looked down to see that White Blade had eaten just about enough, then reached out, picked it up, and got off the carriage.
Long Gu Buwang wanted to beg forgiveness, but the sound was stuck in his throat, and he could not utter even a single syllable.
Song Chuyi walked in the snow. Looking up, she saw in the distance Ning Ya throwing herself into her mother’s embrace, and the wind carried her crying voice over in broken snatches. The woman wanted to hug her daughter tightly, yet feared dirtying the silk she wore and being punished by the caravan.
Song Chuyi raised her head and looked at the somewhat gray sky, thinking that the old woman in her own family had been much less trouble, not making any scene of mother and daughter gazing at each other with tearful eyes, and had died early.
When Song Chuyi was young, her family was so poor they could not afford one meal in three days, yet her father had never thought of dragging her off to trade for money. First, Song Chuyi’s looks could at most be exchanged for two bolts of cloth, and Song Chu’s mother had died giving birth to her, which made Song Chuyi’s dad feel he had suffered a great loss. Second, Song Chuyi’s dad was a man of great foresight. A moment’s food and warmth was far less worthwhile than cultivating his daughter to earn food for the rest of his life. But he evidently saw only the long term and not the present, so two months after Song Chuyi formally took a teacher, he starved to death.
After Ji Yu finished his business, he saw Song Chuyi looking up at something, and could not help but look up at the sky as well. Finding nothing there, he asked in confusion, “Sir, what are you doing?”
“Sorrowing.” Song Chuyi said slowly.
Song Chuyi’s behavior was quite different from that of ordinary people, so for a moment Ji Yu could not tell whether what she said was true or false.
After a moment of silence, Song Chuyi sighed, took out a handkerchief, and wiped away tears that did not exist at all. “In this business of trading people, my conscience… alas, I cannot help myself.”
“Sir, you could change professions and deal in goods instead.” Ji Yu did not understand commerce, but he simply refused to believe that winter was only the peak season for trading people.
Song Chuyi said faintly, “This is cultivation of the heart. A great good.”
Ji Yu’s mouth corners drooped. Before long, he discovered yet another of her bad traits: sophistry. Whatever others said, she always had a reason to shut them up.
“I will stay in Jian’s carriage tonight. Later, send dinner over there,” Song Chuyi said.
Jian was the name Song Chuyi had given the child she had picked up from a pile of corpses.
Ji Yu glanced at Song Chuyi, and really wanted to ask: So you have finally been disliked by someone?
“All right.” Ji Yu answered.
Song Chuyi climbed into the carriage. The maid bowed, performed a salute, and then withdrew. Jian had woken up the day before yesterday. Song Chuyi had already seen him once and told him his name.
Jian spoke very little, so little that Song Chuyi suspected that his recent fever had burned out his brain.
“Master.” Jian lay prostrate on the ground.
“Mhm, get up.” Song Chuyi was not a harsh person, but neither would she be tolerant of people from the very beginning.
Song Chuyi thought there was nothing wrong with Jian’s mind, but being around him was truly very dull. No matter what Song Chuyi said, he would always respond respectfully. Even if he was cheated, he would absolutely bear no complaint. At such a young age, he was already like someone who had been a slave for decades.
After stopping in Baima City for a day, Song Chuyi picked out two more good-looking young boys, and the caravan set off that very night to continue west.
For the next two days, Song Chuyi did not speak to Longgu Buwang at all. She trained White Blade a little, teased Jian a little, occasionally tricked the little girl Ning Ya when checking her behavior and cleanliness, and in ordinary moments chatted with the Gongsun sisters. The days passed quite comfortably.
By the third day, Longgu Buwang finally could not hold back anymore and went personally to Song Chuyi’s carriage to beg forgiveness.
Song Chuyi looked at the youth prostrate before her, idly holding meat with chopsticks to train White Blade to stand up, in exactly the same posture as three days earlier. “Mhm, however, this time there is progress. You could endure for three days.”
A vein bulged on Longgu Buwang’s forehead. He had the urge to swing his fist and stuff her face into it, but after three days of unease and reflection, he truly could steady his emotions somewhat. “I am grateful for your teaching.”
