Song Zhiyuan’s voice was soft and calm, yet his words were powerful, leaving Madam Song chilled to the bone.
"Once our daughter becomes a Prince Consort, even if I openly declare that I won’t take sides, do you think outsiders will believe it? Will those above believe it?" Song Zhiyuan’s fingers pointed upwards.
Madam Song’s smile was somewhat stiff: "Surely, it’s not that serious."
"Madam, even if we step back and send Qi’er in, and she manages to win in the end, do you think, with her temperament, she can prevail against so many women in the Imperial Palace?" Song Zhiyuan sighed, "I understand Qi’er’s character too well, it’s just like yours—always striving to excel. But she grew up pampered, at home it doesn’t matter, we indulge her. But once married, especially into a den of tigers, it’s not about indulgence, it’s about survival."
"She is my daughter, her status is prestigious enough, compared to an unpredictable future, I would rather her live in peace and prosperity, with harmony throughout her life."
This was truly from the bottom of Song Zhiyuan’s heart.
Although he had thought about whether the Song Family could reach a high status, he remained hesitant, and after speaking with Song Ci, he became more resolute in his belief.
The elder had spoken wisely, the foundation of the Song Family was not yet stable, so it shouldn’t gamble on what is unpredictable, lest they lose their daughter and the family’s honor as well.
Madam Song could no longer smile, her dreams shattered, her smile faded.
"Actually, that’s not the main issue, I think, that person above will not allow it." Song Zhiyuan pointed upwards again.
Though he was favored by the Emperor, and the royal grace was abundant, sometimes being too favored was not a good thing; if it overflows, the Emperor could top you with just one word.
That’s why they say serving a monarch is like accompanying a tiger.
Madam Song ground her teeth: "Then what about the other young masters? Husband, if we delay any longer, Qi’er will have no one good left to choose from."
Already fifteen, the good ones have already been chosen by others.
Song Zhiyuan smiled: "Don’t worry, I’ve looked into a few families."
Madam Song’s eyes brightened: "Which families?"
Just as Song Zhiyuan was about to speak, a commotion erupted at the doorway, causing him to furrow his brows.
Madam Song’s complexion changed, she had already recognized who was causing the uproar. Such insolence, that wretched maid, how dare she!
Instinctively, she glanced at Song Zhiyuan and saw his displeasure, which made her so furious she could have ground her teeth to pieces.
The curtain was lifted, and a maid dressed in scarlet rushed in, falling to her knees in front of Madam Song and Song Zhiyuan, followed by Peony and the others.
Wretched maid, still want to deny you wish to climb the bed, you’re my maid, might as well kneel at the Prime Minister’s feet and cry, what are you plotting?
Furong cried like rain on pear blossoms, lifting her head to reveal a pale face, she said, "Madam, Prime Minister, this maid does not wish to marry, this maid is willing to serve Madam and the Prime Minister for life, begging Madam not to marry me off."
As she spoke, she kowtowed again.
The sound of her kowtowing resounded so loudly, if Song Ci were here, he might have exclaimed, wow, that’s some effort.
Furong had put all her energy into it, and when she looked up again, her forehead was already bleeding, pitifully gazing at Song Zhiyuan.
Now she was so delicate, the Prime Minister would surely feel compassion, wouldn’t he?
Madam Song’s face twisted with anger.
Song Zhiyuan set down his tea, stepped off the bed to put on his shoes, and said to Madam Song, "Madam has affairs to attend to, I’ll go to the study to speak a few words with Mr. Jun."
Madam Song, both embarrassed and annoyed, stood up and forced a smile, "Prime Minister, take your time."
Song Zhiyuan nodded, and without sparing a glance at the pale faced Furong, walked out.
"Wretched maid, how dare you!"