"Get lost!"
Several men roared and charged towards Song Qingchao.
Song Qingchao remained unhurried, her eyes fixed on their ankles and elbows, constantly monitoring their movements.
She merely shifted her feet, her waist swaying gently with her steps.
Each time, she precisely evaded their fierce attacks.
This barrage of random, uncoordinated blows only managed to graze the hair that reached her waist.
Song Qingchao finally spun around and stood on the steps before the main entrance. She held Bai You'an's fan, opened it with a "snap," and used it to shield the lower half of her face.
"See? What did I tell you?"
Several men, sprawled on the ground, were still unwilling to yield. They propped themselves up with wooden sticks and lunged at Song Qingchao again.
Holding the fan, Song Qingchao pushed one away to her left and kicked another down to her right.
This time, she didn't even move her position.
If she couldn't even handle these minor pests, how could she live up to the teachings of her late brother and uncles, let alone rebel?
Finally, she flicked the fan out of her hand, sweeping across the fallen crowd. Then, she curled her lips, "Call me Grandma, and I might consider hitting you a few less times."
Song Qingchao flipped her wrist again, holding the fan in her palm. "Never mind, I don't like opponents who are too weak. You should go find Master Lin."
Her words were soft and gentle, in stark contrast to her sharp fighting style.
Yes, she had done it on purpose.
She lowered her eyelids. "Why are you backing away?"
Song Qingchao said, taking a few steps down the stairs. "Don't worry, as long as you go report, I won't hit you anymore."
After she spoke, the men lying on the ground all changed their expressions, their eyes filled with terror.
Now, Song Qingchao was certain that these people weren't afraid of her.
Then, there was only one conclusion.
The person she was looking for had arrived.
So, she gracefully turned. Her goose-yellow warm linen tunic swirled with her turn.
Bright but not gaudy, delicate but not seductive.
"I presume the person arriving is Master Lin?" she asked, not as a question, but with complete certainty.
A man with an imposing presence stood on the threshold.
He looked around fifty years old, with a sturdy build and broad shoulders.
"Are you Miss Song?"
His voice was also steady, and he didn't look like a shrewd businessman at all.
If Song Qingchao had to guess, she might have thought he was a general at first glance.
He looked very easy to deceive.
After assessing him, Song Qingchao performed a proper curtsy. "It is I, your humble servant. Master Lin has shown me great favor."
She turned and gestured to the household guards on the ground. "This, I didn't do it on purpose. Master Lin, being so magnanimous, wouldn't mind, would he?"
"It's nothing." He waved his hand dismissively, no longer holding Song Qingchao accountable for her recent actions.
This time, it was Song Qingchao who was taken aback. She thought he would at least reprimand her.
"Miss Song, are you here to pick up your brother?" Master Lin gestured invitingly, then slightly shifted his body, indicating that Song Qingchao could accompany him.
"Yes, thank you for your care last night, Master Lin."
Song Qingchao spoke neither humbly nor arrogantly.
Although she hadn't intended to enter, since they had invited her, she couldn't back down out of fear.
Before entering, Song Qingchao thought the residence would merely be large and luxurious. She never expected its extravagance to surpass even that of a marquis's mansion.
Every view and every object was meticulously crafted.
As Song Qingchao surveyed the scenery, she commented, "Master Lin, your garden is managed wonderfully and quite pleasing."
"Is that so?" Master Lin smiled in surprise. "Wanwan likes it."
"I see."
Wanwan likes it.
These simple four words revealed Master Lin's deep affection for Lin Tingwan.
One reason was her fortunate destiny, and the other was years of guilt.
However, Xiang Yunling hadn't told her much about Lin Tingwan; it was Chang Pinghe's wife, Wanwan, whom she spoke of more.
Master Lin did not discuss Bai You'an with her throughout their journey. Instead, all his topics revolved around Lin Tingwan.
He mentioned Lin Tingwan's fondness for flowers, so the grounds were filled with them, and his household had the best gardeners.
He also mentioned Lin Tingwan's love for water play, so a large pool was built in her courtyard, with fresh water changed daily.
The extent of Master Lin's doting on Lin Tingwan astonished Song Qingchao.
Even Princess Li Yanzhu, who enjoyed imperial favor, was not as indulged as Lin Tingwan, despite her lofty status.
"Miss Song?"
Master Lin's call brought her back to the present.
"Please, come in."
Song Qingchao politely replied, "Thank you," and entered the main hall without hesitation.
As soon as her foot crossed the threshold, Master Lin dismissed everyone and then closed the door firmly.
Song Qingchao's previously upturned lips fell. "What does this mean, Master Lin?"
"What does it mean?" Master Lin glanced at her, then walked to the head seat, tidied his robes, and sat down. "Wanwan is very important to me."
Upon hearing this, Song Qingchao smiled and then naturally sat in the first chair to the left. "Bai You'an is also very important to me."
"Why must Miss Song be so insistent?" Master Lin picked up a prepared bowl of tea and took a sip. "This old man is merely asking him to treat an illness, not to take his life."
"How is it not taking his life?" Song Qingchao couldn't help but retort. "The city is rampant with cholera. You're asking him to treat only one person. That's more agonizing than taking his life."
Although Bai You'an hadn't said it, Song Qingchao understood him.
He might always appear lazy and indifferent, but when he saw the sick lying on the ground, waiting to die, there was a flicker of compassion in his eyes.
He claimed he wouldn't treat three kinds of people, yet he still kept Ying Zhong outside.
He was kind, he just didn't want to admit it.
Since he wouldn't say it, she would think of everything for him.
Song Qingchao tilted her head, her gaze falling on the teacup on the table. Then, she toyed with the teacup lid with her fingers. "Master Lin, there's no need to provoke me. I can guarantee here that if there are developments outside, your daughter Wanwan will be the first to receive the medicine."
"Then why can't he come into the mansion?" Master Lin asked, somewhat impatiently. "How will he know about Wanwan's symptoms if he's outside? What if the medication is administered incorrectly? Can you bear that responsibility?"
Master Lin's questions were relentless, but if Song Qingchao didn't know him well enough, she might have faltered.
"Master Lin, Bai You'an and Xiang Yunling are together. What are you worried about?"
Song Qingchao withdrew her hand and tapped the fan against her chest. "Would Xiang Yunling harm Wanwan?"
She then stood up. "Let me put it another way. If it weren't for Xiang Yunling, and with so many people dying from this epidemic, the treatment formula still hasn't been finalized. Developing the formula requires patients to constantly test the medicine."
She walked in front of Master Lin, her voice clear and cool. "All medicine has a degree of toxicity. Would you bear to have my Wanwan test it?"
Song Qingchao turned around again and sat beside Master Lin. "The logic is clear. As for how you choose, that is up to you."