Wife, Don't Be Like This!

Chapter 64 - Oh, My Foolish Brother

Splash, splash...

His ankles cut through the muddy water, and he drew a little closer.

Under the illumination of the lamplight, Song Yun's current appearance could be clearly seen. His entire face was black and blue, blood was still seeping from his nostrils, and his hair was disheveled, like a beggar. How could the word 'pathetic' even begin to describe it?

Master Jiaxuan's ci poem, is it something you can claim?

Xin Qiji dared to write 'to compose a new verse, I forced myself to speak of sorrow,' on one hand because the scholars of the Song Dynasty had already become decadent and corrupt, and of the Six Arts of a Gentleman—rites, music, archery, charioteering, calligraphy, and mathematics—all but calligraphy had long since been abandoned.

On the other hand, it was because Xin Qiji possessed the martial valor to take a man's head from within an enemy camp, and wasn't afraid of other scholars coming to challenge him to a fight.

You, Song Yun, are you capable of that?

He raised his hand and wiped the blood from in front of his nostrils, but it wasn't of much use. Mixed with the rainwater, it flowed into his lips, tasting salty.

"Seeing me like this, are you very happy?" Song Yun grinned. "Is this the result you wanted?"

"You started planning this a long time ago." At a time like this, some things in his mind actually became gradually clearer.

“That day, in front of the Jade Gathering Garden, you deliberately left that line of poetry."

Song Yan silently nodded.

"That people suddenly pinned that line of poetry on my head was also you arranging for people to spread it."

Song Yan nodded again.

"You want to ruin my reputation. You bribed Sun Youde and had that old thing strip me of my ‘Xiucai’ title... You want to kill me."

"If just an ordinary person dies, it's often the local county government that investigates on its own. But a ‘Xiucai’ is different. For a scholar who has already obtained a title, once he dies, the level of the investigation will be raised by one grade. It would at least be a prefectural-level Judicial Commissioner. If the investigation yields no results, they can even borrow manpower from the Ministry of Punishments."

"Are you worried that a more formidable investigator will trace it back to you?"

Song Yan blinked his eyes. Was that the plan?

How come I didn't know?

Speaking of which, who is Sun Youde? That old man? If Song Yun hadn't brought it up, he really wouldn't have known that stripping Song Yun of his title would have such a benefit.

Song Yan smiled: "How could there be so many plans? Most of it was just letting nature take its course."

"That Sun Youde, I really don't know him."

"You are the legitimate son of a Duke. Once you die, it will inevitably cause a sensation. The Song Prefecture will certainly investigate carefully. Although I'm confident I didn't leave any evidence, it's still better to be a little careful in all things. So I planned to drag those young masters in. That way, the matter would immediately become much more complicated."

"Among these young masters are the sons of the Provincial Governor, the Vice Prefect, the Sima, and the Vice Magistrate..."

"The fathers of these people hold the core power in Songzhou. Once the matter of them beating you is exposed, then it's 'yellow mud in the crotch—even if it's not shit, it's shit.'"

"This way, the investigation would probably end with nothing resolved. In the end, they'd just randomly pin it on a murderer-robber, pull a death row inmate from the prison to be beheaded, and this matter would likely be over.”

Song Yun's face was grim. The cold from the rain, the sharp pain from his broken bones, and the dizziness from the constant blood loss made him feel even more miserable.

"How could you be so sure I would fall for it?"

Song Yan let out a breath.

“Before Yang Siyao entered the Duke's mansion, among the people there, you were probably the most difficult one to deal with. You're not greedy for money, and you're not lustful!"

"But, you are greedy for fame."

"You grew up in Song Zhe's shadow. Yang Miaoqing and Song Hongtao often compared you to Song Zhe. The tutors also often mentioned the 'Qilin Son of the Song family' in your ear. More than any of your brothers, you hoped that the title of 'Qilin Son' would fall on your head."

"You didn't deny that the line of poetry was yours. So I was certain that when you saw a ci poem of no lesser quality appear before you, you would absolutely be unable to control the greed in your heart."

Song Yun's lips twitched slightly: "Why come after me? There is clearly no deep-seated hatred between us."

"Hehe..." Song Yan couldn't hold it in and laughed out loud.

"You don't really think that a few dozen strikes of the plank is easy for a child to bear, do you? That can really be fatal."

"Besides, you are very dangerous." After a pause, Song Yan spoke again.

"Compared to you, I would rather face a fool like Song Zhen. Those six people from before were arranged by you, right? Not only did you want to kill me, you also wanted to kidnap Banxia?"

"A mere handmaiden! But to me, she is very important."

It's too late.

Even Song Yan couldn't help but feel a little tired. He let out a small yawn.

Song Yun did not shout or scream. He knew it was useless.

"If you kill me, Father will not let the matter rest."

"Heh..."

Song Yan couldn't hold it in and laughed out loud again. For the first time, he looked at Song Yun with a bit more pity.

“Oh, my foolish brother... you don't really think that if you die, Father will be very sad, do you?"

"Believe me, that kind of thing won't happen."

"Perhaps, in front of others, Father will weep bitterly and then swear to find the murderer to avenge you. But when night comes, he will definitely be rolling around in bed hugging his blanket, and then because it's too hard to hold in his laughter, he can only let out muffled snorts like a pig. He wants to see you die more than anyone."

"Who knows, Father might even strongly demand an autopsy on you, just to see your corpse cut into ten thousand pieces."

Song Yun's pupils trembled violently: "No, this is impossible! Why would Father treat me like this?"

Song Yan stood up, looking down at Song Yun from above, his gaze indifferent: "Because..."

"You're a bastard!"

BOOM!

In the sky, a clap of thunder exploded.

A silver chain of lightning tore open the pitch-black night sky, like a giant hammer smashing fiercely into Song Yun's heart.

His body trembled.

Bastard?

What is he talking about? Has he gone mad?

Song Yan's expression was still indifferent. Perhaps because too much had been suppressed in his chest, he had a lot to say. But as long as he had Zhang Long and Zhao Hu guarding the two forks in the road leading here, and Luo Tianyi guarding from the shadows, he probably didn't need to worry about the problem of 'the villain dying from talking too much.'

He wanted Song Yun to die.

Not just a physical death, but a spiritual collapse.

Sure enough, Song Yun's face seemed to twist into a knot in an instant, as ferocious as a vicious ghost. A rasping sound came from his throat, as if a wild beast were roaring.

"Bastard?"

"How could I be a bastard?"

"I am Father's legitimate son."

"Even if there really is a bastard, it's you, the illegitimate son."

The roaring voice echoed all around, but unfortunately, this place was remote, and with the pouring rain, it was impossible for anyone to hear.

Song Yan was not angry. A cold, indifferent smile hung on his face from beginning to end.

He watched Song Yun's breakdown with the eyes of someone watching a monkey.

That gaze seemed to have the ability to penetrate everything, causing an indescribable fear to churn in Song Yun's chest. The sound of his angry curses also gradually weakened.

It wasn't until Song Yun had calmed down again that Song Yan spoke faintly:

"Do you know why Yang Miaoqing dotes on that good-for-nothing Song Zhen so much? Let alone Song Huai, the eldest legitimate son, or Song Zhe, the Qilin Son, even you and Song Lu are much stronger than Song Zhen. But why is it that the affection the seven of you receive, all added up, still can't compare to Song Zhen's?"

Song Yun suddenly raised his head. A nearly crazed light shot out from his bloodshot eyes.

"Oh, no need to doubt. Song Hongtao might not be your biological father, but Yang Miaoqing is definitely your biological mother. Be happy, at least half of your parents are your real ones."

This really was something to be happy about.

"There's a person named Yang Zhen."

"He is clearly a member of the Huilong Yang clan, but he grew up in the Langya Yang clan and grew up with the legitimate young miss of the Langya Yang clan."

"They were together almost every day. A young boy and a young girl, at the age of the first stirrings of love, will always develop some different feelings. Just when the girl reached marriageable age and thought she could live happily with the boy for the rest of her life, the family suddenly decided to marry her off to the son of a Duke."

Song Yan's voice was very calm, as if he were just telling a story. But Song Yun's body trembled slightly.

"She was very sad but helpless. After all, she had been indoctrinated since childhood with the idea that the family was the most important thing."

"Your mother married Song Hongtao just like that."

Song Yan stretched lazily. The oil lamp in his hand swayed.

"You are the legitimate son of a Duke's mansion. You know very well that for someone like you, marriage has never been something you can decide, right?"

"Even if you've never met before the wedding, after spending a long time together after the wedding, you will gradually develop feelings."

"The entire Ning Kingdom, the entire Central Plains, how many married couples are like this... But your mother is clearly not this kind of woman. In her heart, there is only Yang Zhen. For her own husband, there is only irresolvable hatred."

"Impossible..." Song Yun roared in a low voice.

He seemed to be refuting, but in the end, his tone revealed a certain weakness.

But Song Yan didn't care what kind of mood Song Yun was in. Instead, he smiled and said to himself.

"Although I feel she has absolutely no reason or right to hate Song Hongtao. Don't you think that from some perspectives, Song Hongtao is actually the most pitiful one? He happily married a wife, but the person sleeping beside him only has another man in her heart."

"Isn't this just constantly wearing a green hat on his head? How pathetic?"

"The one she should really hate, shouldn't it be the Yang family who deliberately broke them up?"

"But your mother hated Song Hongtao to death. This hatred seemed to have stimulated your mother's rebellious spirit. She wanted to take revenge on Song Hongtao, so she found a secret lover."

"Shut up," Song Yun roared, his face ferocious, his gaze towards Song Yan filled with venomous hatred, wishing he could slice him into a thousand pieces.

"Hehe, even a rabbit doesn't eat the grass near its own burrow. But the secret lover your mother found was actually Song Hongtao's own younger brother, Song Jincheng."

"Which is to say, your second uncle... uh, or possibly your real father. After all, from the mouths of those three old women, Liang Qiaofeng and Lai Qiuju, the number of times Yang Miaoqing messed around with Song Jincheng far exceeded the number of times she shared a bed with Song Hongtao."

"So, you lot, whether you're Song Jincheng's sons or Song Hongtao's sons, that's really hard to say."

"In any case, in Song Hongtao's heart, you've all been labeled as bastards."

"I told you to shut up..." Song Yun howled like a madman. But no matter how venomous his gaze, it couldn't cover up the deep fear in his heart.

The status of a legitimate son of a Duke had always been Song Yun's source of pride. He couldn't accept becoming a bastard.

"Your mother enjoyed this immorality, and at the same time, the thrill of fooling Song Hongtao, and she was immersed in it, unable to extricate herself. Unfortunately, Song Jincheng couldn't stay in the Song family forever, especially after he became the Minister of Personnel; he basically never came back."

"Your mother had to find a new outlet. That was killing Song Hongtao's women, one after another, and Song Hongtao's sons."

"So, those concubines died one by one."

"Of the four illegitimate sons, I'm the only one left."

"Several illegitimate daughters were married off at eleven or twelve, married into those filthy families to suffer."

"Even that elder sister of mine went missing."

"Your mother wants to make Song Hongtao lose all his descendants. This is her revenge on Song Hongtao."

"That old woman Xiao said that every time a person died, your mother would be so excited she couldn't sleep for several days."

"The lives of people like us were just tools for your mother to seek excitement. How pathetic is that?"

As if remembering something, Song Yan fell into a brief silence. Around them, only the rain poured down. The whole world was as gloomy as hell. Streaks of silver lightning continuously tore at the sky, illuminating Song Yan's face in flashes.

Swoosh!

A gust of wind blew, and the curtain of rain connecting heaven and earth tilted in unison. It passed under the oil-paper umbrella and lashed against their faces with a stinging pain. Even with the lampshade protecting it, the flame of the oil lamp shook violently, as if it could be extinguished at any moment.

"About twenty-some years ago, Yang Zhen suddenly appeared at the Duke's mansion."

Song Yan's voice sounded again. Unlike the raging wind and rain around them, his voice was as calm as ever, like a trickling stream, yet exceptionally cold.

"But this time, he appeared with the identity of a distant cousin from the Huilong Yang clan. And then... your mother became pregnant."

"The one she was pregnant with this time was Song Zhen."

"Now can you understand why your mother dotes only on Song Zhen? Because in her eyes, only Song Zhen is the child of her and her lover. Only Song Zhen has the pure blood of the Yang family flowing in his veins and is worthy of her motherly love.”

"You, Song Lu, Song Huai, Song Zhe—the eldest, the youngest, the smartest—in your mother's eyes, there is no difference. Just like us illegitimate sons. No... perhaps even worse than us illegitimate sons."

"To Yang Miaoqing, your existence is like proof of her ugly and painful past."

"Originally, after all those illegitimate sons and daughters were dead, it would have been your turn. That kind of thrill can't be stopped."

"That is to say, before I died, you all were probably safe. But Song Zhen's leg is broken and his arm is crippled. Yang Miaoqing has to advance her plans. After all, only when all the other heirs are dead will the current Song Zhen be qualified to become the Duke. And thus, the Duke Song's mansion will become the Duke Yang's mansion."

Song Yun's body trembled violently. Only at this moment did he finally understand that he could never sit on that seat. And his mother would never truly be partial to him.

From beginning to end, he was just a pathetic fool.

He was unwilling to believe it, but deep down, he had already accepted this.

The strength was drained from his body. His originally straight back was now bent. Streaks of water rolled down his face; it was unknown if it was rain or tears.

Pain?

Or numbness?

"You will definitely die today. But you probably won't die by my hand."

"Is it Song Zhen?"

"Worthy of being Seventh Brother. So smart,” Song Yan praised, but Song Yun was not happy at all.

"You deliberately used my hand to cripple Song Zhen. You can't hide that from Yang Siyao. They know everything, but no one said anything, just watching your sycophantic performance in front of Yang Miaoqing..."

"Do you know what a clown is? It's a profession where one's face is covered in green greasepaint, and one deliberately makes all sorts of exaggerated expressions and movements to make others laugh."

"Probably, in their eyes, you are just a clown."

"Yang Miaoqing put on an act of being moved by you, letting you attend the Qixi gathering, seemingly giving you a chance to show your face. But Yang Zhen... oh, Song Zhen also came."

A green jade pendant appeared in Song Yan's hand. When the lightning occasionally flashed, the jade pendant would give off a gloomy, cold glint.

“This is the one Song Zhen returned to me in front of Song Hongtao."

"In his hand, there is another one.”