Chapter 1891: 1878: Burned-Out Candle

Chapter 1891: Chapter 1878: Burned-Out Candle

Wang Yongzhu exited the palace, where Song Chongjin had been waiting at the palace gates for quite some time.

It was Little Luzi who escorted him to the palace gates, along with a large assortment of imperial gifts from the Empress and the Emperor, accompanying Wang Yongzhu as he left the palace.

There were many people around, and the Duke Weiguo Residence had sent someone to greet them, with Song Wu leading the way.

Song Wu stepped forward first to greet Wang Yongzhu and had the palace gifts loaded onto the carriage before inviting Wang Yongzhu to the carriage.

Song Chongjin had prepared a tall horse for him, and from the setup, it was clear he had something to discuss.

Wang Yongzhu calmly boarded the carriage, where tea had been prepared along with warm snacks, and there was also a small brazier, providing warmth.

Wang Yongzhu had always known Song Wu to be an exceptionally attentive person, yet he hadn’t expected him to be so thorough.

Although Song Wu had shown due respect to them as a couple previously, it always seemed superficially courteous.

His true loyalty rested solely with Song Hong.

This arrangement, discreet yet meticulous, was intriguing.

Could it be?

Wang Yongzhu harbored a suspicion.

Outside, Song Wu was talking to Song Chongjin.

After expressing his sympathy for Song Chongjin’s arduous journey, Song Wu slowly talked about the current state of the Duke Weiguo Residence, mentioning how Song Hong was pleased to hear of Song Chongjin’s return, thus sending him early to greet them.

The undertone of his words conveyed Song Hong’s regard for Song Chongjin along with a sense of longing affection.

Truth be told, anyone else could hardly express such sentiments as wholeheartedly as Song Wu, making it seem as though Song Hong was a caring father worried about his son.

Indeed, it depicted the scenario where the speaker feels no embarrassment, leaving the discomfort to others.

At least, the brothers like Song Xiaowu alongside Song Chongjin felt quite awkward, as they were aware of the tension between Lord Duke and Master Heir-Apparent.

Previously, the father-son relationship between the Duke and the Heir looked more like an enmity, akin to foes rather than family! Over the years, as distance grew, Lord Duke’s attitude softened slightly, making things appear more placid.

Is this what they call deep father-son ties?

One can’t help but admire Song Wu; indeed, to become Lord Duke’s closest aide takes remarkable skill in effortlessly telling lies.

However, Song Chongjin’s expression remained unmoved by Song Wu’s words, finding them as evanescent as a passing breeze, not penetrating his heart at all.

Not even feigning interest with a word, and simply nodding occasionally was a rarity.

Song Wu, well-acquainted with Song Chongjin’s nature, unsurprised, never expected him to listen intently, merely demonstrating an attitude.

Noticing Song Chongjin didn’t engage in the conversation, Song Wu changed topics, discussing the current affairs in the Capital City, which Song Chongjin needed to hear, thus listening intently.

They arrived at the Duke’s Mansion, with the main doors wide open to receive them.

The couple naturally went to the main courtyard upfront to pay their respects to Song Hong.

After a long time apart, upon seeing Song Hong again, Song Chongjin, usually reserved and unreadable, couldn’t help but be stunned.

Song Hong had wasted away, his once tall and mighty body now wrapped in a thick fur robe, appearing quite thin.

The room was heated, and as they entered, warmth greeted them, but Song Hong still held a warming stove, resting his feet on a brazier.

His hair had turned half-white, with increased wrinkles, utterly unrecognizable from his former impressive stature.

Now resembling an elderly man, deep in illness.

Momentarily, Song Chongjin and Wang Yongzhu were too shocked to speak.

After a while, Song Chongjin regained himself, and they approached to pay respect: “Greetings, Father.”

Song Hong waved them up, and before speaking, coughed for a while before managing to stop: “Alright, glad you’re back!”

His voice weak and lacking energy.

Pausing for a moment, Wang Yongzhu hesitated but finally asked: “What happened to Lord Duke’s health?”

Song Wu looked troubled: “Last year, after the Prince’s treason, Lord Duke already had a dormant ailment that shouldn’t be strained, yet after this incident, Lord Duke didn’t rest well for a month, caught a cold, and then his health collapsed. Especially after winter began, his hidden ailment could no longer be suppressed—”

Wang Yongzhu exchanged a look with Song Chongjin after hearing this, and then spoke: “If Lord Duke trusts me, allow me to take your pulse.”

Seeing Song Chongjin did not object, Song Hong silently extended his arm onto the table.

This arm, once strong and muscular, now seemed skin and bone.

Wang Yongzhu silently approached and seated by the table, Song Wu promptly offered a clean cloth, carefully covering Song Hong’s wrist.

Two fingers rested on Song Hong’s wrist for quite a while, before Wang Yongzhu withdrew her hand, unable to describe her feelings.

Song Hong’s pulse wasn’t ideal, nearing exhaustion.

Previously robust, he could suppress his hidden ailment, but as Song Wu described, the Prince’s treason, Song Hong being the Emperor’s trusted aide, undertook many tasks as the Emperor trusted no one else.

The Emperor’s trust was cherished, demanding dedication even unto death.

Song Hong naturally couldn’t reject this esteemed trust, counting merely as a hidden ailment, so long as there was breath left, he had to work for the Emperor.

Unfortunately, it was winter, and Song Hong labored outside, exhausting himself for a month; even iron bodies couldn’t withstand it, let alone his precarious health?

Thus, he rapidly deteriorated, yet this state was considered fortunate, given Duke Weiguo’s high rank and privilege of receiving care from Imperial Physicians, and access to precious medicines across the realm.

Were it an ordinary soldier, he probably would have perished long ago.

The other trio in the room remained silent, observing Wang Yongzhu’s expression, which revealed everything.

Song Hong knew best about his condition, having Du Zhongjing, head of the Imperial Medical Bureau, managing his health, yet able only to prevent further decline without viable solutions.

However, Song Wu, harboring a faint hope, couldn’t help but speak: “Mistress Heir-Apparent, Lord Duke’s condition?”

Wang Yongzhu deliberated briefly; truthfully, despite minor faults, Song Hong was meritorious to Great Chu.

Leading troops to repel Grasslands Cavalry, safeguarding the border populace, and thus Great Chu.

Seeing him suffering from illness, a sigh rose in Wang Yongzhu’s heart.

After some thought, she produced a medicine bottle from her pocket, placing it on the table: “This medicine replenishes energy and blood, taking one pill, Lord Duke will rest peacefully at night; but only one pill per day.”

Song Wu wished to say more but was interrupted by Song Hong, as he reached for the bottle, nodding: “I appreciate the sentiment. After your arduous journey, rest early. We’ll discuss other matters another day.”

Song Chongjin and Wang Yongzhu immediately rose to bid farewell and left.

Song Wu escorted them out of the courtyard, returning to find Song Hong gripping the medicine bottle in contemplation, couldn’t restrain himself: “Why did Lord Duke stop me, requesting Mistress Heir-Apparent more? Perhaps Lord Duke’s health might have a solution…”

Song Hong smiled, tipping out a pill and taking it, then spoke warmly: “What you sow is what you reap! Having this bottle of medicine today is a pleasant surprise.”

“Don’t go asking for medicine privately, living even a few more days at such demands implies agony. Better to depart early, and it’s over swiftly! Rest assured, though Eldest Brother is cold-faced, his heart isn’t harsh. I’ve arranged your paths ahead, and once I’m gone, Eldest Brother and his wife aren’t ones to retaliate; just live your lives peacefully.”