Song Chaoyu knew she couldn't afford to lose composure any longer. If she kept staring at Prince Chang, someone would eventually notice something amiss.
She repeatedly told herself: That person is not Han Xi gege, that person is the current Prince Chang, he is definitely not Han Xi gege!
Yet, the more she thought this, the more bitter she felt.
When Prince Chang walked ahead, Song Chaoyu couldn't help but glance up at him slightly.
Prince Chang's profile presented nearly perfect lines. No matter the occasion, his gaze always seemed distant, as if he were indifferent to everything in the world.
His lips were slightly pursed, giving him an air of being eight parts serious and two parts detached.
There wasn't a trace of Han Xi about him.
Song Chaoyu lowered her gaze slightly, but as she saw Prince Chang's right hand, she froze for a moment—
Prince Chang was wearing a deep purple robe adorned with golden dragon patterns and pine branches. His right hand emerged from beneath the wide sleeves with dark patterns and silver trim, resting on the armrest of his wheelchair.
And on the back of his right hand, there was a scar!
It was a scar that extended from his little finger all the way to the center of his hand, appearing to be a scratch. It was an old wound, long healed, leaving only a very faint, pale flesh-colored line.
If the sunlight hadn't fallen on his right hand at that moment, Song Chaoyu might not have seen the scar at all.
That scar was a scar she knew all too well!
She remembered when she was nine years old, she mischievously went to the largest elm tree on the estate to get bird eggs.
But she was too young, and once she climbed up, she couldn't get down!
She sat on the tree, crying loudly, until Han Xi found her.
At that time, Han Xi unhesitatingly opened his arms to Song Chaoyu and said, "Xiao Yu, jump down, I'll catch you!"
Song Chaoyu would never forget how, through the dappled sunlight filtering through the elm branches onto Han Xi's unreserved smile, the young Song Chaoyu felt that with Han Xi there, she had nothing to fear!
So, she jumped towards Han Xi without hesitation—
At that time, Han Xi had underestimated the weight of a nine-year-old girl.
Song Chaoyu landed on Han Xi, and he couldn't stand steady, his body toppling to the side!
However, as he fell, he held Song Chaoyu tightly in his arms.
Song Chaoyu only heard him say, "Xiao Yu, don't be afraid, I'm here."
They rolled on the ground together. When Song Chaoyu struggled to get up, she discovered that Han Xi's hand had been scratched by a branch on the ground!
Blood flowed from his right hand, forming a clear bloodline at the wound.
That bloodline ran from his little finger to the back of his hand.
Later, after the wound healed, Liu Shiyi Niang even found scar-removing remedies for Han Xi.
The scar became fainter with time, eventually almost disappearing, visible only as a faint pale flesh-colored line in the sunlight.
Just like the pale flesh-colored line on Prince Chang's hand now.
Song Chaoyu's heart felt as if it were about to leap out of her chest.
Impossible, why would Prince Chang be Han Xi?
If he was Han Xi, then his legs… was he faking, or had something truly happened?
Han Xi, Han Xi!
Prince Chang, Prince Chang!
These two names spun endlessly in Song Chaoyu's mind, almost making her lose all ability to think rationally.
"Fourth sister... Fourth sister!"
It wasn't until Song Yanrou's voice reached her from beside her that Song Chaoyu snapped back from her daze.
Seeing Song Chaoyu standing beside her, Song Yanrou tugged at her sleeve, "Everyone is seated, why are you still standing? Don't think about showing off today!"
Song Chaoyu looked around and realized that Prince Chang had already taken his seat as the honored guest, and everyone else had also sat down. Maids entered one after another with dishes, and the grand banquet at the Song residence had begun.
Song Chaoyu quickly sat down. Song Xiuxiu, seated behind Song Chaoyu, asked her in a low voice, "Fourth sister, your complexion doesn't look good, are you unwell?"
Song Chaoyu drank the large cup of rose sweet wine in front of her in one go, feeling slightly better, "I'm fine, perhaps it's too hot today, and I stood for too long, so I feel a bit tired. Sister, don't worry, I'll be fine after eating something."
Song Chaoyu desperately wanted to restrain herself from looking at Prince Chang, but she couldn't help but glance up slightly.
Once she wasn't paying attention, it was one thing, but now that she had noticed, the scar on the back of Prince Chang's right hand, which no one else could see, seemed to cling to her gaze, refusing to fade.
"His Highness Prince Ning arrives—"
Before they had even been seated for long, the voice of a young eunuch could be heard from the entrance again.
Shen Congyu was also here?!
Song Chaoyu's hand tightened around her wine cup.
Song Yuan also stood up and muttered, "What day is it today? Why has Prince Ning also come?"
A face that Song Chaoyu was both familiar with and hated with all her heart slowly appeared.
Mu Hansu had not yet ascended the throne, and he was as cautious and self-possessed as in her memory.
He was not a favored prince by the Emperor, so even when facing Song Yuan, a minister, he maintained his feigned humility.
Even upon seeing Mu Changxi, he approached Mu Changxi with a semblance of flattery, "Brother Prince Chang is here too? If I had known, we should have come together."
But Mu Changxi's response to Mu Hansu was indifferent.
Whether it was Song Chaoyu's imagination or not, she even saw a flicker of annoyance in Mu Changxi's eyes, "Apologies, Brother Prince Ning, this brother's legs are inconvenient, and he cannot rise."
"That is only natural, why should we brothers be so formal?"
Mu Hansu, it seemed, was always a man who could handle any situation: "Even the Emperor and Empress Dowager have excused you from bowing and paying respects, so if you were to rise and pay your respects to this prince, wouldn't that be belittling me?"
He waved his hand, signaling a servant to deliver gifts to the Song residence, and then said to Song Yuan with a smile, "This prince has arrived late. I hope Minister Song will not take offense!"
As he spoke, he seemed to sense an unfriendly gaze directed at him.
He turned his head, following the gaze, but only saw the Song family's illegitimate daughter, who had lowered her head and was busy eating.
Was it a hallucination?
Mu Hansu didn't think much of it and, following Song Yuan's guidance, sat down next to Mu Changxi.
Only then did Song Chaoyu lift her head, recalling all the pain Mu Hansu had brought her in her previous life. Even the lotus seed paste and fruits in her mouth carried a hint of bitterness and hatred.
The Song residence today was exceptionally lively.
In her previous life, because Song Jiayang had never woken up, the Song family had not held such a banquet.
Song Chaoyu did not know what would happen next.
At least, from her current perspective, everything appeared to be harmonious and joyful.