Miss Truth-Chapter 504 - 333: An Angel Comes to Chang’an

The next morning dawned. A gentle, invigorating breeze carried a faint fragrance of orchids through the cool air, refreshing the spirit.

Ran Yan had just risen from her bed and had not yet dressed up when someone came to ask Xiao Song to go to the ancestral temple.

Xiao Song was still asleep. Ever since the old lady had passed away, he had barely closed his eyes, sleeping no more than an hour or two each day. Coupled with the exertion of accompanying the coffin back to his hometown, he had finally fallen into a deep sleep. Ran Yan felt reluctant to wake him, but a person standing in such a position must possess equal capability, otherwise, they would eventually collapse. And Xiao Song was undoubtedly someone who could withstand the pressure.

"Husband." Ran Yan gently pushed him.

"Hmm?" Xiao Song turned over, and after regaining a bit of consciousness in a few moments, he sat up. He had been sleeping lightly these days and had woken up when the maid came with the message.

Ran Yan took the plain clothes from the screen and helped him put them on, "It seems they are dealing with Chun Lai."

Such a morning, and Ran Yan’s gestures softened Xiao Song’s heart, greatly relaxing him.

Being strong for too long, so tiring.

In the past, when he was alone, he never felt hardship. Everything was relative; there is hardness because of softness, joy because of sorrow. Compared to before, he was keenly aware of the weakness deeply hidden in his heart, wrapped in layers, untouched, but still, he preferred this present.

Xiao Song rested his head against Ran Yan’s abdomen, enjoying the intimate care of his wife.

"Xiao Yuezhi, I find you have the potential to be utterly captivated by tenderness," Ran Yan teased him as she helped him slip on the outer robe.

"The Overlord had beauties by his side; what’s wrong with that?" Xiao Song murmured drowsily.

Ran Yan looked at him with scorn, "Brave and upright, openly magnanimous, lifting a thousand pounds — which of these qualities do you possess?"

"I possess none, but I surely love my woman more than the Overlord did," Xiao Song said as he wrapped his arms around Ran Yan’s slender waist and nuzzled against her chest. Before Ran Yan could react with annoyance, he swiftly dodged away, "I must be going now!"

Ran Yan watched him angrily as he rushed to the corridor to slip on his wooden clogs. He even turned back to wink at her, then straightened his clothes and walked out of the yard with his usual calm demeanor.

Ran Yan couldn’t help but smile slightly, murmuring to herself, "He really can pretend."

Ran Yan disliked deceitful people the most, but now she always felt she measured Xiao Song by a different standard than others, perhaps just because of the word "trust." He was willing to drop his pretence around her, making his pretence somewhat acceptable to her.

"Wife, the master hasn’t even washed his face yet," Wan Lu came in with water, frowning and speaking softly, "If others knew, they would say the master disrespects the ancestors."

Ran Yan smiled, surely Xiao Song would handle it himself. No matter what, he was a man who valued filial piety and brotherhood, and moreover, he wouldn’t leave any leverage for others to criticize him.

"Never mind him, help me comb my hair," Ran Yan handed the comb to Wan Lu.

After grooming, Ran Yan sent someone to the ancestral temple to inquire about the situation. The news that came back was as she expected and it made her sigh. Chun Lai still refused to confess.

Ran Yan felt very strange. She asked every detail about Chun Lai’s reaction to be recounted, and indeed discovered a clue—her attitude was visibly more resolute than yesterday!

Yesterday, when Chun Lai heard Xiao Song say that her entire family would be turned over to the government, the shock and fear on her face were vivid in Ran Yan’s memory. Why, after just one night, she had steeled her heart to reveal nothing?

Putting herself in the other’s place, Ran Yan considered herself a decisive person. If she were in Chun Lai’s situation today, involving the lives of loved ones, it would probably be difficult to make up her mind in just one night.

"Who else is in Chun Lai’s family?" Ran Yan asked the Maid of the family.

The Maid bowed her head and answered, "Her father, stepmother, and two half-brothers from the same father but different mothers."

Ran Yan nodded and had Wan Lu give the Maid some money.

Others never compare to one’s own children—Ran Yan’s current identity was somewhat similar to Chun Lai’s. As she was at odds with the Gao family, Chun Lai must have had a hard time too. If Chun Lai’s father were like Ran Wen, disposed to abandon, why would it require overnight consideration?

However, Chun Lai was honest and straightforward, and since ancient times people believed that every part of their bodies was inherited from their parents. Even without the affection from upbringing, there was still the grace of giving birth, which must have influenced Chun Lai’s decision.

Close to noon, Xiao Song returned from the ancestral hall.

After he had finished his lunch, Ran Yan asked, "What came of it?"

"He still refuses to talk, and he’s temporarily detained in the ancestral hall." Xiao Song paused, took a sip of water, and wiped the droplets from the corner of his lips with a handkerchief Wan Lu handed him, then continued, "However, the person who secretly met with Chun Lai last night turned out to be Jiulang indeed."

Ran Yan did not respond, waiting for him to continue.

"Jiulang went out yesterday without bringing any Maid or Servant. I had people go to the tavern he usually frequents and found the clothes he changed out of. He had instructed the Shopkeeper to dispose of them, but the Waiter seeing that they were fine garments, hid them instead—there was turpentine on them and red clay from the back hill on his shoes," Xiao Song leaned back comfortably in his chair, sighed contentedly, and said, "There’s nothing more for me to do now."

"You don’t want to try your hand at fishing?" Ran Yan sipped her tea as she looked at him.

Xiao Song smiled faintly, "The water is too muddy, and I can’t see the fish; I don’t want to be the first to get my feet wet."

Sometimes, when a case is too complex, they opt to stir the waters even muddier and seize the opportunity to catch "fish," but Xiao Song always knew how to choose his moment.

Ran Yan quickly understood—the Clan Leader Xiao Jing was visibly deteriorating day by day. After the exhaustion of these past few days, it was apparent to everyone that with his health, he could no longer bear the burden of the entire clan. At such times, the anxious ones were not Xiao Song, but those coveting the position of Clan Leader.

"Jiulang!" Liu Qingsong rushed in, bringing a gust of wind.

Ran Yan was slightly surprised—Liu Qingsong had been vigilantly guarding the lady’s and Ling Xiang’s tomb and hadn’t been seen for a long time. What caused him to suddenly act so "lively" today?

"Jiulang! There is news from Chang’an; it seems the Emperor may be grieving soon," Liu Qingsong hurried to the front of Xiao Song, his voice low and urgent.

Xiao Song’s expression became stern, and he asked in a low voice, "Who?"

Liu Qingsong didn’t answer, but his eyes on Xiao Song clearly indicated: You.

"How certain is your news?" Xiao Song couldn’t help but inwardly scold himself for recently neglecting the news from Chang’an. He had been a bit overwhelmed lately; otherwise, if Liu Qingsong could learn such news, he wouldn’t have missed any hints.

It was only then that Ran Yan took a good look at Liu Qingsong’s appearance: his face covered with a stubble of blue beard, his grey mourning clothes unwashed for days, and his knees dusty.

Humans are indeed complex creatures. Xiao Song was undeniably a strong individual, almost invulnerable, but faced with such life and death separations, it was inevitable that he would become somewhat despondent and negligent. Meanwhile, Liu Qingsong, nostalgic and fragile, had to numb himself with various stories—but in this moment, he was extraordinarily clear-headed.

Ran Yan looked deeply at Xiao Song, thinking to herself, grief indeed needs to be vented out for one’s own good.

No sooner had she thought this than a Servant came to fetch Xiao Song, saying that an Angel had arrived from Chang’an. (To be continued. If you like this work, you are welcome to go to Qidian (qidian.com) to cast recommendation tickets and monthly tickets. Your support is my greatest motivation.)

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