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Xiao Yan was taken aback, thinking he must have misheard.
He knew all too well how things stood. He could still vividly recall the moment when Song Feiwan learned the truth, her face pale and haggard as if she had lost everything; it had secretly pleased him. What was even more absurd was that this woman had loved him so deeply that she had thrown herself into the lake.
Now, she was saying what? That she wanted to marry someone who wasn’t him? If it weren’t for the presence of those around them, Xiao Yan would have burst into laughter. Had she truly lost her mind in such a life-and-death situation?
He looked at Song Feiwan, wrapped in a dark cloak that clung to her slender figure, her long black hair damp and cascading down, accentuating her pale face that was hardly larger than a palm. At eighteen, her features had matured; with dark eyes and snow-white skin, she possessed a captivating beauty that could ensnare souls. Compared to her, Song Shuyou could only be considered a delicate beauty.
Especially when her clear black eyes turned towards him, it felt as if a fire ignited within his heart, causing it to tremble. Xiao Yan felt an inexplicable tightness in his throat as his gaze darkened. How had he never noticed before how beautiful Song Feiwan was?
In that moment, he truly became interested in her. If she genuinely wished to marry him, he wouldn’t mind granting her the status of a concubine. Once he ascended to the throne, he could reward her with the title of a beauty; it would be her fortune.
As Xiao Yan's mind wandered through these thoughts, Song Shuyou beside him asked in confusion, “Sister, are you speaking nonsense? You risked everything for His Highness the Crown Prince and even jumped into the lake; now you say you want to marry someone else?”
Xiao Yan felt elated and secretly nodded. After today’s commotion, not only would the Song family lose their standing, but Song Feiwan would also have no place in the entire capital.
If she merely lowered her head and softened her stance, he wouldn’t mind lending her a hand to spare her life.
Song Feiwan raised an eyebrow and replied earnestly, “The person I hold in my heart is not His Highness the Crown Prince.”
Song Shuyou’s eyes widened in disbelief as she nearly exclaimed, “If it’s not him, then who could it possibly be?”
Having narrowly escaped death after being thrown into the lake, did she suddenly awaken to the reality and wish to turn the situation around? What a dream!
As long as I am here, Song Feiwan must be nailed to the pillar of shame today; there’s no way she can turn things around!
A glint of malice flashed in Song Shuyou's eyes as she heartily exclaimed, "Sister, you just jumped into the lake! Everyone knows who occupies your heart. Today, you ruined Old Master Rong's birthday banquet and even offended His Royal Highness the Crown Prince. That is already a grave crime!"
"Instead of quickly apologizing to the nobles, you are here spouting nonsense. Do you want to bring ruin upon our entire family?"
With a plea in her voice, Song Shuyou continued, "I beg you, please stop this relentless pursuit!"
By the end of her words, Song Shuyou had helplessly covered her face and begun to cry. This act drew sympathy from the guests present.
With such a disgraceful woman like Song Feiwan in the Song family, it would inevitably affect Song Shuyou's prospects for marriage—how tragic.
The current head of the Rong family, Rong Huan, was the eldest legitimate son of Old Master Rong and a high-ranking minister of the court. Hearing these words, he approached with a cold expression.
Rong Huan was over forty years old, dressed in an elegant scholar's robe with a beard that added to his distinguished appearance. His bone structure was exceptional, and his looks were striking, hinting at his youthful charm.
His thick black brows furrowed deeply as he looked at Song Feiwan with evident displeasure. The Rong family had not held any joyous occasions for nearly three years; regardless of Song Feiwan's reasons, she should not have disrupted my father's birthday banquet. Is this truly the family tradition of the Songs?
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