When Song Ruqi fell ill, not only did the adults come to visit, but even the young lords and ladies of the Prime Minister’s Mansion brought gifts to see her, whether it was a few new books from the storybook shop or some exquisite trinkets.
Song Ruwei brought a bunch of fresh flowers, which she personally placed on Song Ruqi’s windowsill, making the view pleasing to the eye.
With so many siblings caring for her, Song Ruqi felt much better, but when she thought of her father’s intentions, she couldn’t help but feel restless.
When she saw Song Zhiyuan again, it was already the third day of her illness.
Song Zhiyuan had been busy these past few days, and there was even a day he didn’t return to the mansion. Even when he did return, he was discussing matters with his aides in the study, so he was unaware that his youngest daughter had fallen ill.
When he learned of it and came to Fuchu Pavilion, Song Ruqi had already lost weight.
Seeing her father, Song Ruqi felt a mix of emotions — joy, a bit of resentment, but mostly grievance.
"Daughter greets Father." Song Ruqi bowed to Song Zhiyuan.
Song Zhiyuan said, "No need for formalities. Your mother said you were ill; are you feeling better now?"
"In response to Father, your daughter is much better." Song Ruqi replied languidly. This was already the third day she was ill, and only now did he come to see her. Indeed, she felt she was the least loved by him.
Madam, standing by, noticed the girl’s indifferent attitude, which made her secretly anxious. She was about to speak when Song Zhiyuan spoke again.
"Is Qi’er blaming Father for visiting you only now?"
Song Ruqi lowered her head and said, "Your daughter dares not. Father is busy with state affairs, and your daughter understands."
This tone — saying she dared not. Who would believe it?
Song Zhiyuan smiled, "So, are you blaming Father for wanting to find you a husband from a poor family?"
Song Ruqi suddenly looked up, her face paler, her large eyes staring at Song Zhiyuan, her expression filled with panic.
Song Zhiyuan looked at her as well.
Song Ruqi’s mouth moved as though trying to question him, but not a word could come out of her throat, feeling scared.
"Your father stands right in front of you, yet you don’t dare to ask. Just listening to the servants’ words, you get lost in wild thoughts, making yourself ill?" Song Zhiyuan chuckled lightly. "It’s said that the Second Miss Song is arrogant and outspoken. How come, in front of your father, you dare not utter a word? Is this the Second Miss Song, nothing more?"
Song Ruqi’s tears brimmed, rolling in her eyes, biting her lower lip.
"Prime Minister, the child hasn’t fully recovered yet. Let’s talk about this slowly once she’s better." Madam stepped in to mediate.
Song Zhiyuan glanced at her lightly and said, "If there’s a doubt in her heart, how will her illness improve without clarification and resolution?"
Madam was at a loss for words, continuously signaling to Song Ruqi with her eyes.
But Song Ruqi seemed stubborn, persistently biting her lip, refusing to speak.
"Child, why don’t you admit your fault to your father?" Madam couldn’t help but pinch her arm.
Only then did Song Ruqi say, "What fault do I have? I’m just the one that’s not favored. For elder sister’s marriage, Father and Mother went to great lengths, but when it comes to me, I’m only matched to a scholar from a poor family? Father, you’re so partial."
As Song Ci walked over, supported by Nanny, she happened to hear these words and paused.
How untimely — this family was in the midst of an argument. Could she still make it back?
"Mother, why are you here too?" Song Zhiyuan stepped forward to support Song Ci’s hand.
Madam also bowed and gave her daughter a pull, glaring at her fiercely.
Song Ruqi reluctantly curtsied, pouting.
"I just came to see if the second girl is feeling better." Song Ci said, "You were talking, should I leave first?"
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