Chapter Eighty-Three: Xixi's Candy

“Song Qing, if you’re still alive, get out here!”

With Jiang An’s tacit approval, Song Qi breathed a sigh of relief. His demeanor shifted instantly, and he called out with commanding authority.

“Chief Steward, I’m here—I’m here!”

Song Qing, drenched and just climbing out of the river, hurried over, not daring to delay.

“I hear you neglected Mr. Jiang? How many times have I warned you?” Song Qi said coldly.

“No, never! I wouldn’t dare neglect such an esteemed guest—I followed the rules the entire time!” Song Qing denied desperately, pointing to several people in the crowd. “These guests can testify for me; I didn’t mistreat Mr. Jiang.”

“Oh, is that so?” Song Qi’s gaze swept over them.

Those young men from prominent Eastern families couldn’t withstand Song Qi’s imposing presence. Sweat poured from their brows as they glanced at each other, hesitating for a long time, unable to utter a word.

Song Qi chuckled, then his expression turned stern. “No need for explanations. Song Qing, I sentence you to a week’s confinement and suspend your managerial duties for a year as punishment for your incompetence and insubordination. Do you accept this?”

Though Song Qing was reluctant, he dared not argue with the Chief Steward in public—such defiance would only lead to harsher penalties. Besides, he had a powerful patron and could return at any time, so he replied, “I dare not object!”

“Then leave,” Song Qi waved his hand, settling the matter.

As for the others, Song Qi considered and spoke: “Since the rest of you offended Mr. Jiang, and he prefers you kneel, you will kneel until dawn. However, Song Chengde is a member of our family; Mr. Jiang, may I ask you to lift your spell and allow him to rise, for my sake?”

Jiang An had always been a man of reason—if spoken to respectfully, he reciprocated; if confronted with arrogance, he responded in kind. Since Song Qi addressed him courteously, Jiang An lifted the spells binding everyone.

It was not for Song Qi’s sake, but for Song Wanshuang’s—after all, this was her family and she was caught in the middle, which must have been awkward for her.

But this would be his last act of leniency.

Those kneeling felt their bodies loosen, discovering they could move again. Yet, except for the young man with the braid, none dared rise—the Chief Steward had ordered them to kneel until dawn, and they complied.

Song Chengde stood, rubbing his bruised knees, glaring venomously at Jiang An, but saying nothing. Instead, he raised his thumb, a silent gesture: “You’ve got guts—I’ll reclaim my dignity soon enough!”

Everyone had seen him kneel; a humiliation Song Chengde could not endure. Yet now, knowing Jiang An’s power, he dared not confront him openly.

Jiang An ignored Song Chengde’s impotent gesture.

“Someone, help Young Master Chengde to rest,” Song Qi instructed, then turned to Jiang An. “Thank you for your generosity, Mr. Jiang. Truly, the fault is mine. The family head instructed me to treat you well, but I didn’t take it seriously and delegated the task. That’s how this misunderstanding occurred. From now on, I will personally escort you to your lodgings.”

His words were impeccable—making it clear that the family head valued Jiang An highly, and the mishap was the result of poor execution by his subordinates, with Song Qi accepting responsibility.

Thus, the matter was laid to rest. The crowd dispersed, but the private discussions continued. Many sought to discover who Jiang An was—he seemed exceptional, especially since he possessed the strength of a master at such a young age.

This was the result of unequal information: Jiang An had made several spectacular moves, slaying masters, his exploits circulating only among the upper echelons of various nations. With deliberate suppression, his fame was prominent only in the Eastern Province, scarcely known elsewhere. He lacked a single public display of his strength.

In the four-wheeled carriage, Song Qi personally drove Jiang An’s family, making Song Qiuke, seated beside him, uneasy. After all, Song Qi was a figure even her father, the family head Song Han, addressed as “Uncle Qi”—his actual status and authority surpassed hers as a direct descendant.

Just then, Song Qiuke felt a light tap on her shoulder. Turning, she saw little Xixi’s fair, adorable face.

“Auntie, are you feeling unwell? You’re so still. Xixi has sweets—they’re delicious! If Auntie eats one, she won’t feel bad anymore.”

The little one produced a small, square jade box from her pocket. Opening it, two neat rows of white pellets, each finger-sized, emitted a fragrant aroma.

“Here.”

Xixi offered her “candy” to Song Qiuke, big eyes blinking expectantly.

Song Qiuke’s heart melted. She patted Xixi’s head, took a pellet between her fingers, and placed it in her mouth.

It dissolved instantly. As the sweetness touched her tongue, a gentle warmth flowed down her throat, spreading through her limbs and bones. A sense of comfort and lightness filled her body, making her feel almost ecstatic, her mind clear and refreshed.

This was no mere candy!

Song Qiuke, as a direct descendant of the Song family, was well aware of the existence of elixirs and had tasted a few herself. Yet none could compare to what she had just consumed!

“Is this really your candy, Xixi? Where did you get it?” Song Qiuke asked incredulously.

Xixi tilted her head. “Yes, Daddy gave it to me. Isn’t it tasty? I like Auntie, so I shared it with you.”

Song Qiuke stared speechlessly at Jiang An—such precious elixirs, used as sweets for a child?

Jiang An smiled. This Ten-herb Pellet was his own creation—not a true elixir, but a condensed medicinal liquid, designed to strengthen Xixi’s innate Dao body and nourish her meridians. He had improved its flavor to make it sweeter.

“Xixi, since Auntie likes your candy, why not give her the whole box?”

Xixi thought for a moment, then said, “Okay, Auntie, here.”

She placed the jade box in Song Qiuke’s hands. Song Qiuke was about to refuse when Song Wanshuang spoke: “Qiuke, take it—it’s just a snack.”

Just a snack?

Well, Song Qiuke cherished the sensation and smiled sweetly. “Thank you, brother-in-law, sister, and our little darling Xixi.”

She carefully put the box away, unaware of Song Qi’s keen gaze, silently watching the jade container.

Soon, the carriage stopped before a beautiful two-story villa in Shengding Garden.

After exchanging a few polite words, Song Qi took his leave—first, he was busy; second, he had important matters to report to the family head.

Song Qiuke remained, and at Jiang An’s inquiry, began explaining the Song family’s basic situation.

As a top-tier clan, the Song family had numerous members. Centuries of heritage had produced a set of family rules. The current head, Song Han, was himself a master, with two sons and two daughters: the eldest, Song Chengzong, forty years old, devoted to martial arts and a master himself; the second, Song Wanshuang; then Song Chengying, whose martial talent was ordinary but who had risen quickly in politics, becoming the family’s brightest star; and finally, the youngest daughter, Song Qiuke.

Song Han’s brothers and uncles also had many children. For example, the braided youth, Song Chengde, was Song Han’s second brother’s youngest son.

With so many talented youths, the family was divided into ranks: Song Han’s children were the direct line; those more distantly related formed the main branch; even further were the collateral branches. Yet, the next family head might not be Song Han’s sons—it could be someone from the main or collateral branches. The Song family had a comprehensive selection mechanism, overseen by the elders, and chosen according to each generation’s circumstances.

Over the ages, the direct lineage rotated among various branches—the most gifted, capable, and cunning would rise. This competitive structure kept the Song family thriving, though it also bred constant internal strife.

Perhaps due to the bridge incident, no one caused trouble for the rest of the day. Song Qiuke spent the day with Jiang An’s family, sharing lunch with them. When night fell, a servant arrived to announce that the eldest son invited Mr. Jiang and his family to a banquet in their honor.

Song Chengzong is inviting me to dinner?

Since he was here, Jiang An didn’t think much of it and accepted the invitation.