Song Yue pressed her lips together, correcting her words instantly on realization. "Grandfather, I meant… if you got angry enough to collapse, I wouldn't even be able to save you."
It did not help.
Song Ze rolled his eyes at her.
An actual, unmistakable eye roll.
"I do not have dementia," he said flatly. "Or amnesia."
Song Yue nearly smashed her forehead into the table.
This was the first time in her life she had seen her iron-blooded grandfather roll his eyes. Judging by the way his temples twitched, she had probably shaved several years off his lifespan.
So much for forgiveness.
Since every word she said only made things worse, she decided to stop pretending to be obedient.
She flopped down onto the sofa, propped her legs up on the coffee table, and crossed her arms defiantly. "I've said what I said. Do whatever you want. But let's make this clear. I'm not going to that nun school, and I'm not leaving the country. If you want to kick me out of this house, hurry up and do it. I don't even want to stay."
Song Ze stared at her for a long moment. Then he lifted his cane and smacked her shin.
"Put your legs down," he snapped. "I truly don't know how Rougang raised you into such a disaster."
Song Yue hissed and rubbed her leg. "If you want to blame someone, blame me. What does this have to do with my uncle? I'm a Song, not his responsibility. If you don't want me, then throw me out."
"Are you accusing the Song family of mistreating you?" Song Ze asked coldly.
"No." Her voice dropped a little. "If you don't care about me, I can live somewhere else."
She was tired.
Tired of Song Weisha stirring trouble.
Tired of being labeled shameless.
Tired of swallowing blame without ever being heard.
Song Ze fell silent, studying her carefully. After a long pause, he spoke again.
"I told you to reflect. Did you?"
"I didn't do anything wrong," Song Yue said, lifting her chin. "And I didn't do anything shameful either. You can't blame me."
It wasn't her idea to accompany the Duke.
It wasn't her idea to drink.
So what, exactly, was her crime?
Song Ze let out a heavy sigh.
"If you were wronged," he said slowly, "why didn't you explain clearly? Why admit it and then talk back instead? Do you think that once everyone misunderstands you, you might as well give up?"
Song Yue froze.
"That isn't pride," Song Ze continued calmly. "It's stupidity. It doesn't prove strength. It only lets the person who framed you win. If Rougang hadn't investigated, were you planning to carry this blame forever?"
Her eyes widened.
So… he hadn't wanted her to be misunderstood?
"If Uncle hadn't spoken up," she asked slowly, "and it was only me, would you have believed me?"
"If you don't speak," Song Ze replied, "how would you know whether others believe you or not?"
He leaned back slightly, his gaze steady. "Everything must be fought for. If you don't fight, don't blame the world for ignoring you."
The words struck her harder than the cane ever had.
Song Yue stood there, completely stunned.
A knock sounded at the door, crisp and clear in the quiet study.
Song Ze lifted his hand slightly without opening his eyes. "Rougang is here to take you back. Go."
He leaned back in his chair, his voice lowering as if weighed down by something heavy. "When you can't sleep at night, think about your mother. She risked her life to give birth to you. Not so you could live like this."
The words struck Song Yue like a bolt of lightning.
Her mother.
A name that was almost never spoken in this house.
Her chest tightened painfully. Before she could say anything, the knock came again, firmer this time.
She turned and opened the door.
Nie Rougang stood outside, his expression calm and controlled, as if nothing unusual had happened. "Godfather, it's late," he said evenly. "Song Yue still needs to do her homework."
Song Ze nodded once.
Nie Rougang reached out, took Song Yue's hand, and led her away.
She didn't speak.
Not a single word.
That silence unsettled him far more than any tantrum ever had.
"What's wrong?" he asked gently. "Did Grandfather scold you badly?"
She didn't answer.
Back in the bedroom, Song Yue curled up on the sofa, hugging her knees. Her thoughts were a tangled mess.
Her mother had nearly died giving birth to her… just so she could grow up like this.
The thought burned.
Suddenly, she stood up.
She walked to the desk, pulled out her homework, sat down, and began writing.
Silently and Seriously.
Without a single complaint.
Nie Rougang stopped in his tracks.
He stared at her, eyes narrowing slightly.
What medicine had she taken wrong?
"Yue'er," he said after a while, "take a break. I asked them to make tapioca."
"Don't want it," she replied without looking up. "Please don't disturb me."
A faint crease appeared between Nie Rougang's brows. "I brought milk tea and egg tarts. You barely ate dinner."
"No," she said calmly. "Don't bother me."
The crease deepened.
"I had them make creamy seafood soup," he tried again. "Your favorite."
"Uncle!" Song Yue finally snapped, lifting her head. "You're annoying! I'm studying! Please be quiet for a while!"
Nie Rougang stood there with his hands on his hips, completely stunned.
She was eighteen years old… and she already found him annoying?
When she cried, he knew how to comfort her.
When she caused trouble, he knew how to restrain her.
But this quiet, obedient version of her left him completely helpless.
Much later, Song Yue walked over holding a stack of papers.
"Uncle," she said calmly, "can you check this? I'm not sure about the advanced math."
He reached out and placed his hand on her forehead.
Normal temperature.
Too normal.
"Uncle," she frowned and swatted his hand away. "I'm not sick."
He sighed inwardly.
He had always wanted her to study seriously. Now that she finally did, he felt completely lost.
"Alright," he said. "I'll check."
He scanned the pages.
Everything was correct.
The next morning, she woke up on her own.
No dragging.
No yelling.
As he drove her to school, Nie Rougang watched her through the rearview mirror, unease slowly curling in his chest.
Was this some kind of warning from heaven?
Had she suddenly grown up because time was running out?
He watched her walk into the school gate, then turned the car toward the principal's office.
"President Nie!" the principal greeted eagerly.
"I heard the school plans to renovate the library and laboratory," Nie Rougang said calmly, placing a cheque on the desk. "Fill in the amount yourselves."
The principal's face lit up.
Before he could even touch it, the door opened.
"Principal," a lazy, dangerous voice cut in, "didn't you promise to let me donate?"
Li Meiran stepped inside, eyes sharp, smile wicked.
Nie Rougang rose slowly from his seat. "I've already paid. If you want to donate, do it earlier next time."
Li Meiran laughed softly. "Even if you pay, the school isn't yours."
His gaze sharpened as it locked onto Nie Rougang. "Just like Song Yue."
"No matter what you do," he continued coolly, "you'll never get her."
He leaned in closer, his voice dropping low and cruel. "And soon, you won't even be able to kiss her."
A brief pause hung in the air. "Shall I continue?"