Chapter 076: Flustered and Heart-Racing

Chapter 076: Flustered and Heart-Racing

Song Huaian held back, gently pushing Song Pushu's shoulders to move her away. The closeness was a difficult test for him. Meeting her puzzled gaze as she looked up, he averted his eyes, the tips of his ears slightly red, though unnoticed.

"Aunt, I'm not sick. I just walked too fast on the way back without resting, which made my heart race. Now that I'm home, it'll calm down after a while."

Song Huaian spoke naturally, finding an excuse. Song Pushu didn't catch on and nodded in belief. "I see. Or maybe you're just too hungry, kid. You didn't skimp on meals at the academy to save money, did you? That won't do. If you're short on cash, I have some private savings I can lend you."

She valued money above all else, but having grown up together, she wouldn't really let Song Huaian go hungry. Still, she added, "But let's be clear—this is a loan. When you make it big, you'll pay me back double. If you don't, hmph, I'll go around shouting that the future top scholar is unfilial to his aunt!"

"Thank you for your care, Aunt, but I'm not starving. I eat well at the academy. Keep your money for yourself. In the future, my money will be yours too—how could I not give it to you?" Song Huaian chuckled softly, his voice like a clear spring, pleasant to hear, and he looked just as good.

"That's more like it. Remember that!" Song Pushu put her hands on her hips, smug. Ever since Song Huaian started studying as a child, she'd heard the most about his future success, so she pestered him constantly, brainwashing him never to forget his aunt when he got rich.

As far back as she could remember, she'd been with Song Huaian. It was only after he went away to study that they were apart for long stretches. He listened to her, and yes, he'd definitely be filial—no mistake!

"Of course I'll remember." Song Huaian nodded, pulling out a money pouch and handing it to Song Pushu. "Your picture book has been sold. It sold quite well, and the price was good."

"Really!" Song Pushu's eyes lit up. She took the pouch happily and opened it, finding ten taels of silver inside—more than she'd expected. "Song Huaian, it sold for that much? Are you serious? You didn't sneak some of your own money in to cheer me up, did you?"

Song Huaian's calligraphy was excellent. When he attended the private school, the family had to pay tuition, but later on, he didn't need their support—he earned money by copying books.

But even copying books didn't leave him well-off, yet he always bought expensive things for Song Pushu. He never mentioned it, and she never asked, as long as she benefited!

"You're selling yourself short, Aunt. That's the price it fetched. Your paintings are interesting, and those who can afford such leisure books are wealthy families. If they like it, they won't skimp. One buys, others follow to keep up appearances, and the price goes up. I've already discussed with the bookshop owner: for the next volume, we won't sell it outright but split the profits—you get fifty percent, the shop thirty, and the remaining twenty covers paper and ink. If there are other needs, the shop will help."

Song Huaian was truly reliable. He could think three steps ahead, arranging everything so Song Pushu wouldn't have to worry. "This is the base price we've agreed on. I'm back for four days of rest, so we can go to the county bookshop to negotiate further. If you have no objections, we'll proceed this way. What do you think, Aunt?"

He didn't confirm it outright. This was Song Pushu's own venture; he could only offer a path. Whether she took it was her choice.

"I have no objections!" Song Pushu didn't fully grasp the intricacies, but she knew that if Song Huaian confirmed it, there'd be no problem. Trusting him was the safest bet.

She rummaged through the pouch and found a small piece of silver. "Nephew, you're amazing! Aunt is very happy. Hmm... this is your reward."

"Alright, Huaian thanks you, Aunt." Song Huaian smiled, opening his palm to take the silver, but then handed it back. Seeing her confusion, he said, "I've been away for a month and couldn't take care of you in the county. How could I take your money? It's rightfully yours. Oh, and this money too—I'll entrust it to you for safekeeping. If I need any, I'll ask you."

He handed over another pouch, which jingled as it shook. The embroidered pouch had clumsy bamboo leaves—Song Pushu's handiwork, her embroidery skills lacking.

"Entrust it to me?" Song Pushu took it suspiciously and opened it. Her eyes widened. Inside were five gold ingots. She took one out—it was real, heavy in her hand. She'd never seen gold ingots before.

Song Pushu was stunned, her heart pounding. "You... you, you, you... Song Huaian, did you do something shady, or become a bandit? Good heavens, should you go into hiding first?"

At that moment, she felt no fear—only deep concern. Maybe he should hide in the mountains for a while until things blew over. It should be fine, right?

Though she regretted not being the aunt of a successful candidate, Song Huaian's life was more important. She'd protect him no matter what—he'd even handed over the gold ingots!

"Rest assured, Aunt. These gold ingots came from legitimate means. There's no problem, and nothing will happen to me." Song Huaian smiled gently, his eyes soft as he watched Song Pushu fuss over him. He wanted to hold her... but the thought made him guilty, and he quickly suppressed it. She was his aunt—how could he harbor such desires?

"That's good, that's good..." Song Pushu relaxed, then excitement surged, and she nearly screamed. "Gold ingots! How beautiful! So that's what they look like. Song Huaian, you're amazing! Aunt loves you the most!"

She caressed the ingots like treasures, sweet words flowing easily. But she didn't notice Song Huaian freeze at her words "loves you the most," staring at her profile for a long time, his heart racing.

Song Huaian knew he couldn't do this. He'd already fallen, and he couldn't drag her, carefree as she was, down with him. He had to keep his distance. Song Pushu could only ever be his aunt. Yet he couldn't control his greed—he wanted more, even more than that.

"You've given them to me, so they're mine now. You can't take them back." Seeing him staring, Song Pushu quickly hugged the ingots protectively, then remembered he'd said "safekeeping." She cleared her throat and added, "Aunt means that a scholar must keep his word. Since you've entrusted them to me, you can't go back on it. Besides, it's unsafe for you to keep them—too many people in the dormitory, and you won't study peacefully. Having money will distract you."

"Once given to you, they're yours. I won't ask for them back." Song Huaian smiled happily. Song Pushu had always been protective of money; if she willingly gave it to someone, that person truly mattered to her.

Song Pushu was satisfied. "Hmph, you know that. What about Big Brother, Sister-in-law, and my parents?"

"I'll handle that." Song Huaian always knew how to separate filial piety from what to hand over.

One of his classmates was already married, a henpecked husband who said a man who loved his wife must hand over his money.

Song Huaian had always given his money to Song Pushu since childhood, keeping only what he needed. It was a lifelong habit. But hearing his classmate, he imagined them as a married couple, and couldn't stop fantasizing. When he realized his mistake again, he rationalized it with "this will keep Aunt from being easily deceived by men later," offering a pure excuse for his actions.

"Good. I'll hide it well." Song Pushu was skilled at hiding things. "Close your eyes."

Song Huaian obeyed. When she said he could open them, he did, not asking where she'd hidden it.

Then she pulled him to the desk to show him her latest work. "Come see! This is a new volume I've drawn. What do you think needs adding? I feel something's missing—it looks fine, but the meaning isn't quite right."

"Let me see. Here, you could add a poem. Here, a landscape painting. This character, I think, should be drawn darker to match the description."

"That's exactly it!"

Song Huaian was good at poetry, but he didn't write it himself. He taught Song Pushu, letting her write first, then corrected her, revising until it was done.

While she was sketching, he went to see Granny Song—he had to pay respects to the elders.

Song Huaian arrived in the afternoon. He changed clothes first, then sat in the yard chopping wood. By evening, the Song family returned one by one, all delighted to see him.

His parents were beaming, but they had little to say to their eldest son, just asking about the academy before the conversation fizzled out.

The child had always been aloof and quiet, only close to his little aunt. After studying, he'd taken on a scholarly air, speaking elegantly. His parents didn't know how to interact with him anymore. As long as he stayed on the right path, they couldn't interfere.

Whenever Song Huaian came home, dinner was extra special. That night, two extra meat dishes appeared, delighting the children most—meat was the ultimate happiness.

After the meal, the men had a little wine, while the women sat chatting about village gossip. Song Pushu listened intently, even learning about neighboring villages.

"Shushu, how about embroidering a flower here?" Sister Song was making clothes. The weather was warming up, and she'd bought fabric on her last trip to the county. This was for Song Pushu.

Others in the family also had fabric, but each small family arranged their own sewing. Granny Song didn't meddle, though her embroidery skills were poor. So Song Pushu's clothes had always been made by Sister Song, who'd watched her grow up, treating her like a daughter—she had three sons, no daughters.

"Sure, Sister-in-law is the best!" Song Pushu smiled sweetly, breaking off a piece of pastry and feeding it to Sister Song. "This is peach blossom cake. Sweet, Sister-in-law?"

"Sweet, very sweet." Sister Song was delighted. Daughters were better—pity she didn't have one.

Night fell, stars scattered across the sky. Everyone dispersed to their rooms to sleep, ready for tomorrow's work.

Song Huaian was kept behind by his grandparents, along with Big Brother and Sister Song, as if there was something to discuss.

"Shushu, you go to your room too. Sleep early. Tomorrow's market day—we'll go to the county for ice cream." Granny Song deliberately sent Song Pushu away. During dinner, Song Huaian had mentioned ice cream was available, so they could take her.

"No, Mom, Dad, I want to hear too." Song Pushu knew it was about her. Granny Song had already brought it up. "This concerns my life's big matter—you can't keep it from me. A blind marriage is no good."

Hearing this, Song Huaian snapped his head up to look at his family. His heart sank; he roughly knew what it was about. His mind went blank, unable to think.

"Mom, little sister has a point. Marrying the wrong person is the worst. It's better to know the details." Sister Song also spoke up.

"Fine, fine, stay then." Granny Song gave in, facing her daughter's bright eyes. What else could she do? "Dalang, we wanted to talk to you. Your aunt has come of age for marriage. We haven't seen any good matches in the village. If you know any virtuous scholars in the county, you could play matchmaker. You grew up with your aunt and are closest to her. Marriage is crucial for a woman—take it seriously. We don't ask for much—good character matters most, a peaceful family, and a suitable match." She looked at Song Huaian as she spoke.

They all looked at him, and for the first time, Song Huaian was stunned, lost in thought for a long time. Sister Song patted his shoulder. "Dalang? Dalang?"

"Mom, what is it?" Song Huaian blinked, coming to. He composed himself and said calmly, "Sorry, I was thinking about something and got distracted. I heard what Grandmother said. She's right. Aunt's marriage... I should take it seriously and find her a good family."

As he spoke, his fists clenched secretly, emotions churning inside, but he forced a calm expression, nodding and smiling in agreement.

"But what does Aunt think?" Song Huaian looked at Song Pushu, seeing her shy anticipation without any reluctance. His breath caught, bitterness flooding his heart.

"Ahem, if there's someone suitable, it wouldn't hurt to take a look first." After all, being a young lady, speaking of marriage in front of elders, she wouldn't be so bold. Song Pushu blushed slightly, "But I still want to stay home with my parents for a few more years, so waiting is fine too."

"You can't just wait for a good man to come along. Let's look first, and if we find a good match, we'll settle it. Your father and I can't bear to marry you off so early; stay home for two more years." Granny Song's eyes were full of reluctance. In Da Yong, a girl could marry at eighteen as long as she didn't exceed eighteen, she wasn't considered an old maid.

Song Huaian's face reddened, and his voice turned coy, "I'll do as Mother says."

Men didn't discuss such topics. Hearing that Song Pushu seemed agreeable, Brother Song looked at his son, "Dalang, do you see any suitable young man?"

They were just village folk and naturally trusted the judgment of scholars. Besides, the people Song Huaian knew were from the county and were scholars, better than any they knew. If it worked out, it would be a golden match.

"We're not trying to climb up or marry high, but we absolutely can't marry down. Just someone about the same is fine. Though we live in the village, our family background isn't bad, and we have a scholar. Marrying into a slightly better family is fine—it doesn't need to be anything great." Old Man Song also doted on his daughter; he couldn't bear to marry her far away.

"I..." Facing Song Pushu's expectant gaze, Song Huaian felt he couldn't breathe. He lowered his eyes, casting a shadow under his eyelids, his face gloomy and unreadable. "There are some, but I need to think first about who is most suitable for Aunt. This matter can't be rushed. How about this: when I've thought it over, I'll let everyone know who's better."

"Having some is good. This can't be rushed. And it's best not to spread it around, to avoid harming the girl's reputation." Granny Song was delighted to hear that, meaning there really were promising young men.

Song Pushu was also happy. She didn't mind meeting potential matches now. If it didn't work out, there would still be time to break the engagement; otherwise, there would be no way out, and she'd be livid.

After they dispersed, they returned to their rooms. Song Pushu's and Song Huaian's were next to each other. As Song Pushu was about to open her door, she heard Song Huaian call out, "Aunt." She turned and asked in confusion, "What's wrong?"

"Aunt, what kind of man do you like?" Song Huaian stood in the moonlight, half in light, half in shadow, making him look conflicted, as if his soul were in turmoil.

"Hmm..." Song Pushu had already thought about this question. In fact, any girl her age, at the age of first love, would have considered it. "Good-looking, treats me well, capable, and from a decent family. Someone like you—just help me find someone based on your standards. He must be as handsome as you; anything lesser won't do."

She especially liked Song Huaian's face, gentle yet sharp, and as he grew older, it gave a sense of security. Just his face alone was a feast for the eyes.

"Does Aunt think I'm good-looking?" Song Huaian had always known that Song Pushu liked his face, from childhood to now, so he had taken good care of it privately.

"Good-looking!" Song Pushu nodded. "But I'm still the best-looking. You're only second."

Song Huaian chuckled softly, his gaze deep as he looked at her. "What if I said the person I'm recommending is myself? Would Aunt choose me? I can meet all your requirements. And I think no one can do it better than me."

"What?" Song Pushu didn't quite understand what he meant for a moment.

"Nothing." Song Huaian steadied himself, a gentle smile played at the corners of his lips. "I mean, I'm glad Aunt is willing to use my standards to find someone—it's an affirmation of me. Don't worry, I'll find someone and won't let Aunt down."

"That's right." Song Pushu nodded. She rubbed her eyes. "I'm so sleepy. You should go to bed early too."

"Okay."

Song Huaian waited until she went inside and closed the door before turning and returning to his room.

In the space where no one could see, his expression instantly changed, becoming somewhat gloomy and twisted. He then covered his face and let out a low laugh, not in joy, but with bitter restraint.