Chapter Seventy-Four: Children Should Not Poke Their Noses Into Grown-Ups’ Affairs

After Qin Sheng’s hand was taken in Song Qing’an’s grasp, she quieted down noticeably. The very moment Song Qing’an let out a sigh of relief, however, Qin Sheng kicked her blanket off.

Song Qing’an was speechless.

Staring in a daze for a few seconds, Song Qing’an shook her head in resignation and dutifully got up to pull the blanket back over Qin Sheng.

As she watched Qin Sheng’s legs begin to stir again, Song Qing’an instinctively pressed down on her ankle. In sleep, Qin Sheng was far less strong than usual and could only yield obediently.

“At last, you’ve settled down. Why can’t you even sleep honestly?” Song Qing’an smiled helplessly, her voice laced with indulgence as she murmured to the sleeping Qin Sheng.

Perhaps realizing how absurd it was to be talking to someone who was asleep, Song Qing’an fell silent after that, simply sitting quietly by her side and watching her sleep.

But the difference was in her gaze—gentle as water, as if it could overflow with tenderness.

Maybe it was the comfort of having someone near, but the cold sweat on Qin Sheng’s brow slowly faded. Her sleep became more peaceful, and at last, she rested soundly.

It felt almost like caring for a child. Song Qing’an could scarcely believe she’d ever become this way. She raised a hand to tousle her own hair, unsure whether she was hiding her tenderness or merely embarrassed by this unfamiliar gentleness.

Lowering her eyes, she glanced at her left hand, which Qin Sheng still gripped tightly. She tried to gently wriggle free, only to find that the hold was unyielding. Song Qing’an shook her head with a resigned smile, letting Qin Sheng cling to her inconvenient left hand and perching awkwardly on the edge of the bed, quietly watching her face.

Before long, Song Qing’an slowly closed her eyes, as if resting.

A breeze swept through the room. Song Qing’an’s eyes snapped open again—her previous gentleness vanished, replaced by cool indifference and a hint of arrogance.

“Xunfeng,” Song Qing’an called softly, her gaze shifting to the window.

“At your command,” Xunfeng appeared instantly before her, dropping to one knee with his right hand pressed to his chest in a gesture of respect.

Song Qing’an spared him a glance, her tone calm and airy but carrying a clear threat. “Do you realize your mistake?”

Xunfeng’s face tensed at once. He looked to Song Qing’an’s hand, still held by the sleeping girl, and answered anxiously, “Yes, I do. I accept whatever punishment you see fit.”

At his admission, Song Qing’an raised her brows a fraction, as if doubting or questioning him.

“Do you think I shouldn’t punish you? Or do you believe my authority has waned?” Song Qing’an smiled lightly, but Xunfeng felt as though countless mountains were pressing down upon him, making it hard to breathe.

Xunfeng knew Song Qing’an was using her powers, but he also understood that if she truly meant to kill him, she would hardly stop at this.

“I dare not,” Xunfeng bowed his head, not daring to meet her eyes.

“Oh?” Song Qing’an’s smile grew more playful as her gaze settled back on Xunfeng. “Then tell me—how should I punish you?”

Xunfeng drew a deep breath and met Song Qing’an’s gaze with earnest resolve. “However you see fit, I will not resist.”

Song Qing’an nodded approvingly. “Very well. Go and accept your punishment.”

Without hesitation, Xunfeng saluted and quickly withdrew from her sight.

Only after a long while did Song Qing’an shift her position. When at last Qin Sheng released her hand, Song Qing’an rose and walked to the window.

“So harsh on your own people?” Lu Qingyan’s voice drifted in, having apparently been observing for some time.

Song Qing’an showed no surprise; it was as if she had expected Lu Qingyan all along.

“One’s own must be held to an even higher standard when they falter,” Song Qing’an replied, a faint smile lingering on her lips, though her eyes were icy and severe—eyes that had seen countless storms of blood; all that remained in them was numbness and a sense of the commonplace.

Lu Qingyan stepped from the shadows, his gold-rimmed glasses glinting as they swept over the sleeping Qin Sheng before settling on Song Qing’an, who stood at the window.

“All because he failed to protect your woman?” Lu Qingyan couldn’t understand Song Qing’an’s logic. In his view, Xunfeng’s only crime was failing to protect Qin Sheng, resulting in her injury—a trivial matter, hardly worth punishing such a long-standing companion.

Song Qing’an gave no answer, but neither did she deny it.

There were more reasons for punishing Xunfeng than merely his failure to protect Qin Sheng.

“She’s not my woman,” Song Qing’an replied, as if intentionally skirting Lu Qingyan’s question and clarifying only the nature of his relationship with Qin Sheng.

Lu Qingyan looked even more puzzled, his eyes behind the gold-rimmed glasses narrowing in rare confusion. “So what, then?”

Song Qing’an smiled faintly, turning to face Lu Qingyan, who was about his age but a generation his senior. “You and your uncle are worlds apart.”

Lu Qingyan frowned, unable to grasp Song Qing’an’s meaning.

“It means, children shouldn’t meddle in grown-ups’ business.”

Lu Qingyan was left speechless.

Laughter rang out just as he was about to retort, catching his words in his throat.

“So you have moments of defeat too?” A’di laughed so hard her stomach hurt. It might not have been that funny, but seeing Lu Qingyan at a loss brought her an inexplicable sense of delight.

It was simply too satisfying.

“Childish,” Lu Qingyan shot her a glance, reverting to his usual cold and composed self.

A’di’s laughter finally subsided as she noticed Lu Qingyan’s darkening expression.

“Oh, right—I came to check on Qin Sheng. How is she now?” A’di turned to Song Qing’an, whose looks were more than striking, standing by Qin Sheng’s bedside.

Song Qing’an shook his head, indicating that Qin Sheng was fine.

“That’s a relief,” A’di murmured, then, recalling how Song Qing’an had suddenly appeared and carried Qin Sheng off, her curiosity ignited. Her eyes sparkled. “You’re not Qin Sheng’s boyfriend, are you? Should I be calling you brother-in-law?”

Song Qing’an’s lips twitched. He couldn’t understand why A’di, like Lu Qingyan, assumed Qin Sheng was his girlfriend.

If the sleeping child overheard this, he’d surely be in for a beating.

He smiled awkwardly and replied politely, “No, I’m just her friend.”

“Really?” A’di said, her tone tinged with regret. She hesitated, then pressed, “But do you like her?”

Song Qing’an, just about to take a sip of water, choked, unsure how to answer. Seeing A’di’s guileless curiosity, he coughed and looked toward Lu Qingyan for help.

Lu Qingyan pinched his aching temples and strode over to A’di. With ease, he grabbed the back of her collar and lifted her right off the ground.

A’di yelped in surprise. As Lu Qingyan dragged her away, she fought to break free, but her slight strength was no match for his large hand.

“What are you doing? You big oaf!” A’di glared furiously at Lu Qingyan as he hauled her off.

Lu Qingyan shook his head in resignation, his gaze utterly impassive. “Children shouldn’t meddle in adult affairs.”

With that, he left A’di standing there, mouth twitching.

“What was that about?” A’di muttered, not understanding Lu Qingyan’s words. She punched the air in the direction he’d gone, then stomped off toward Jiang Miaomiao’s room.

Jiang Miaomiao, having just finished tending her own wounds, turned and saw A’di stomping in, puffed up with anger.

Seeing her friend fuming like an indignant little piglet, Jiang Miaomiao chuckled. “What happened? Who made our little pig this angry?”

“It’s that Lu Qingyan, of course…” A’di fumed, but then, as if struck by a thought, snapped, “You’re the pig!”

Jiang Miaomiao shook her head in exasperation and sat beside A’di, her tone now more serious. “What happened? Tell me.”

So A’di recounted everything that had occurred in Qin Sheng’s room.

“Do you think Lu Qingyan has it in for me? He just dragged me out of there—I couldn’t even fight back…” A’di pouted, looking aggrieved at Jiang Miaomiao.

Jiang Miaomiao nodded, her smile returning. “If you look at it that way, you two actually make a good pair—a proud, aloof guy and his feisty little piglet.”

“What?” A’di stared at her in disbelief. “Did you hit your head in the fight or something?”

Jiang Miaomiao pursed her lips and dropped her little fantasy, then said, “But Shengsheng and Song Qing’an aren’t what you think they are.”

A’di puffed out her cheeks, clearly unconvinced. “Really?”

“Heaven and earth can bear witness,” Jiang Miaomiao vowed.

A’di studied her for a long while before grudgingly agreeing, “Fine, I’ll believe you.”

Jiang Miaomiao nodded in relief. “But don’t say anything like that in front of Shengsheng. She’s never dated before—if she draws her Tang blade, don’t expect me to save you.”

At once, the image of Qin Sheng lopping off Zhang Meng’s head with her Tang sword flashed through A’di’s mind. She shivered. “I’d never dare!”

Jiang Miaomiao smiled helplessly, her gaze drifting toward Qin Sheng’s room.

When Qin Sheng opened her eyes again, it was already dark.

“You’re awake?”

Song Qing’an’s voice startled her in the dim room.

“What are you doing here?” Realizing who it was, Qin Sheng’s heart, which had nearly leapt from her chest, settled back into place.

Song Qing’an calmly blew on the cup of hot water in his hand, unfazed by her lack of gratitude. He was long used to her cool indifference.

“And… how did I fall asleep?”