Chapter 41

Chapter 41

After speaking, Ruan Heng reclined at his leisure, conveying that if Song Yun didn't take the initiative soon, he would indeed close his eyes and sleep.

Though Song Yun knew Ruan Heng was likely still teasing him, a wave of sadness washed over him, leaving his heart aching with bitterness and grievance. He truly couldn't bear even the slightest possibility of Ruan Heng rejecting him or losing interest. The mere thought that Ruan Heng might genuinely grow cold towards him sent a sudden chill through his heart, as if plunged into icy water, leaving him utterly cold.

Unable to help himself, Song Yun pursed his lips. Before tears could fall, he buried his face in Ruan Heng's chest, choking out, "Young Master, when you're like this, I truly feel awful. You're already working so hard on your studies, and yet I'm still clinging to you… and you don’t even want to…"

Overwhelmed by his grievance, Song Yun truly began to cry, appearing heartbroken beyond measure. Large teardrops quickly dampened the front of Ruan Heng’s robes.

Ruan Heng felt utterly wretched, regretting why he had stirred up such a scene for no reason. He wished he could slap himself. He quickly pulled Song Yun into his arms and said urgently, "Wait, wait—A-Yun, calm down first!"

Song Yun had been about to burst into full-blown sobs, but hearing this, he mustered every ounce of his strength to hold back his tears, gazing at Ruan Heng with watery eyes.

As he tenderly wiped Song Yun’s tears away, Ruan Heng said, "I was teasing you—how could you not tell?"

Between quiet sobs, Song Yun replied, "I was afraid you really didn't want me anymore…"

"Young Master, whatever you want me to do, I'm willing. Just don't treat me like that…" he continued, hiccuping.

Ruan Heng truly hadn't expected a mere joke to upset Song Yun so deeply. Though he knew Song Yun was single-minded, he hadn't realized just how much his attitude affected him.

"Alright, alright, it's my fault. I shouldn't have teased you like that. I won't do it again," Ruan Heng said sincerely, holding him close in apology.

Song Yun let out another plaintive whimper but clung tightly to Ruan Heng, refusing to let go.

Ruan Heng slowly soothed him, whispering many comforting words to reassure him. After a while, Song Yun gradually calmed down in his embrace.

Ruan Heng smiled. "Still angry? If you are, you can scold me a couple of times." He worried Song Yun might want to berate him but hold back, bottling up his frustration.

Song Yun simply shook his head, wiping his tears.

"Don't be afraid. I won't hold a grudge, and I won't tell anyone," Ruan Heng encouraged, trying to bolster his courage.

To his surprise, Song Yun said, "I can't bear to scold you. I really can't bring myself to say anything harsh."

Ruan Heng gazed at him deeply before he couldn't resist kissing him. Beneath the salty tang of tears on their lips lay an overwhelming sweetness.

*

Soon, it was July, with the nights growing shorter as days lengthened, and the deep hush of summer.

Only a month remained before the Autumn Imperial Examinations. Ruan Heng spent every day either at the academy or buried in work in his study at Qingxue Cottage, and Song Yun dared not cause him the slightest trouble.

Yet Ruan Heng showed no signs of anxiety, nor did the stress make him short-tempered. He remained as patient with Song Yun as ever, which put Song Yun at ease.

He worked hard to manage Ruan Heng’s daily routine, meticulously attending to his meals and drinks, and even clumsily sewing two handkerchiefs for him.

Ruan Heng hadn't minded that Song Yun’s first needlework had been given to Ruan Cheng, but he had secretly hoped Song Yun would make something for him too. Thus, he was delighted when he received them.

"Young Master, please don't use these outside… lest others see and laugh…" Song Yun said shyly when handing them over.

In the past, Song Yun hadn't known much about shame outside the household. Whether it was due to growing up or spending too much time in the inner quarters after his presentation, his face became more easily embarrassed, often flushing with embarrassment—a novelty Ruan Heng found endlessly endearing, and he loved to see him blush every time.

Ruan Heng examined the two handkerchiefs closely. The stitches were uneven, and the color combinations were haphazard, but one bore a pattern of two kittens, while the other featured oddly-shaped magpies and lotuses. With some effort, Ruan Heng recognized it as an auspicious motif symbolizing "success in imperial examinations."

Admittedly, if Ruan Heng used these in public, others might wonder why the young master of the Ruan family carried such crudely embroidered items—and who could have made such peculiar handkerchiefs for him.

But Ruan Heng knew this was already a great effort for Song Yun. Moreover, this time, he hadn't sought Wei Yuerong’s help, stitching every thread himself.

And though they weren't refined, Ruan Heng genuinely loved these handkerchiefs. In fact, he couldn't explain why, but he very much wanted to use them outside.

Still, to spare Song Yun’s feelings, he smiled warmly, expressed his fondness, and promised not to display them in front of others before tucking them into his robes.

On one hand, Ruan Heng wanted to tell Song Yun he didn't have to force himself to learn such things if he disliked them.

On the other, he inexplicably looked forward to what bizarre handicrafts Song Yun might produce next.

So he said nothing, mischievously deciding to let Song Yun continue losing himself in the tangled threads.

Thus, Ruan Heng later received sachets, fan pendants, and jade pendant tassels from Song Yun—all equally peculiar and all accompanied by pleas not to show them to outsiders.

Though they couldn't be displayed, Ruan Heng still carried one of Song Yun’s handkerchiefs with him when he went out. Even if he never took it out, it inexplicably lifted his spirits.

Yet one day at the academy, he spotted a handkerchief of similar craftsmanship. This one was in Bai Yue’s hands.

As Song Yun’s elder sister, it made sense for her to have something he made. But Ruan Heng felt an inexplicable displeasure.

The summer heat was sweltering, and when classes ended, Bai Yue even used the handkerchief to wipe her sweat.

"Bai Yue," Ruan Heng couldn't help but approach her.

Bai Yue had only been allowed to study at the academy after Ruan Heng interceded with the tutor, so she held some gratitude toward him. Hearing him call her, she turned and bowed respectfully.

Ruan Heng asked, "What's that in your hand?"

Bai Yue blinked at the handkerchief, as if just remembering its origin. "Second Young Master, this is a handkerchief my younger brother made for me."

Since being released from the household, Bai Yue had her servant status revoked and was no longer a servant of the Ruan family. But whether out of habit or respect, she still addressed Ruan Heng with a deferential tone. He often told her not to be so formal, but today, he skipped the pleasantries.

He hesitated, suddenly wanting to do something about that handkerchief but also feeling it was inappropriate. After a pause, under Bai Yue’s puzzled gaze, he finally said, "Never mind," and walked away.

Leaving Bai Yue standing there, thoughtfully staring at the handkerchief her brother had given her.

*

That night, Ruan Heng held Song Yun close and asked, "You made a handkerchief for your sister too?"

Song Yun nodded. "Yes. That was the first one I made. I wasn't satisfied with it, so I gave it to her. It happened to be her birthday around that time."

"For her birthday, you gave her that?" Ruan Heng didn't quite understand.

"Yes…" Song Yun saw nothing wrong with it. "But she's my sister. She wouldn't scorn my gifts."

Ruan Heng thought it over and found it wasn't unreasonable.

In truth, it was only among the young masters and ladies of wealthy families that birthdays were such grand affairs, with gifts carefully chosen for their presentability. Among siblings like Song Yun from humbler backgrounds, who had grown up roughhousing together since childhood, there were fewer formalities—yet this lack of pretense might well signify a boundless intimacy.

But this very intimacy between siblings only grew more inexplicably displeased for Ruan Heng.

"From now on, don't make things for anyone else. Understood?" Ruan Heng said bluntly. He rarely used such a commanding tone with Song Yun. Song Yun widened his innocent eyes, puzzled by the sudden imperious demand, but he hastily assured him, "I understand, Young Master. But…"

Song Yun seemed to think of something else and asked, "In the future, if we have little boys and girls, can I make things for them?"

He asked, blushing a little. Ruan Heng knew that since their last heart-to-heart talk on this matter, Song Yun had rarely brought up the topic of having children. But Ruan Heng also understood that while Song Yun was no longer as anxious, he still deeply longed for a child.

Though Ruan Heng didn't want Song Yun to worry about having children, he also didn't want to overcorrect and make him feel he shouldn't hope for a child. So he replied, "Of course you can. What would you like to make for them?"

"Hmm..." Song Yun seemed pleasantly surprised that Ruan Heng continued the conversation. After a moment’s thought, he said cheerfully, "I want to make tiger hats, but they’re too difficult—I haven’t learned how yet. But I should be able to make things like baby bibs, which are just a little more complicated than handkerchiefs. There’s so much I could make!"

"Wouldn't that be too much work for you?" Ruan Heng chuckled.

Seeing Song Yun’s enthusiasm, he suddenly felt that having a child truly would be a joyous thing, filling him with anticipation too.

"Is that really so much? There’s even more—children need so many things! Besides clothes and shoes, there are bibs and things like that. They grow so fast, needing new clothes every few days. Luckily, we have plenty of seamstresses and tailors at home. In an ordinary family, I’d never be able to keep up sewing everything alone!" Song Yun chattered excitedly.

Listening to him, Ruan Heng suddenly realized how much Song Yun had changed.

The topics Song Yun used to discuss with him were mostly about which hills outside town were fun to hike or which teahouses had the best performances. Yet in just a few months, his thoughts had completely shifted.

Ruan Heng shared this observation with him.

But Song Yun replied, "I’d love to tell you about cricket fights, fishing, or horseback riding too—if only I had anything to tell! It’s been so long since I’ve gone out. Riding feels like a lifetime ago..."

Nearly two months had passed since Ruan Heng last took Song Yun to Yuquan Temple, and Song Yun was practically stir-crazy from being cooped up, dying to go out and have fun.

Indeed... confined to the inner household all day, one’s thoughts naturally became limited to just a few things.

Ruan Heng finally understood why Song Yun was so eager for a child—perhaps a big reason was that a child would bring endless novelty, ensuring Song Yun would never be bored again.

Yet this realization left a pang of guilt in Ruan Heng’s chest.

He found this feeling strange. Logically, a Kun Ze’s place is at home, tending to family and children. But because of this, Song Yun had undeniably lost much of the freedom and joy that had once come so easily to him. The idea gave Ruan Heng pause...

Unaware of his inner conflict, Song Yun, simply thinking of going out, threw his arms around Ruan Heng’s neck and said, "Young Master, I meant to wait until after your exams to bring this up, but I just can’t hold back anymore. After your exams, could you take me out for a trip? Just one trip—I’d be happy anywhere."

"Of course. Wherever you want to go, I’ll take you," Ruan Heng replied, his heart aching as he quickly agreed.

Overjoyed, Song Yun squeezed him tight.