Chapter Seven: It Has Nothing to Do With Her

"Miss Song is most thoughtful. And what is the second matter?" Mu Changxiao’s gaze returned to Song Tang, his eyes instinctively flicking to her face.

Yesterday, Song Congzhi had struck her with considerable force, leaving her cheek slightly swollen and bruised. A flash of murderous intent crossed Mu Changxiao’s eyes, though he quickly suppressed it.

"The second matter is to discuss with you, Marquis, whether the engagement between myself and the Young Marquis can be annulled. I know this may be improper, but our betrothal was arranged before we were even born. We share no deep affection, and this contract is a shackle for both of us. I truly hope you will grant this request, so as not to hinder either of our futures."

"You have no deep affection for the Young Marquis?" Mu Changxiao’s gaze darkened, his tone calm.

Song Tang was well aware of her past devotion to Mu Ziyu—how she had practically debased herself to win his favor, only to be ultimately abandoned and kicked to death by him. Therefore, she knew that a forced marriage was far worse than letting go. It was better for both to find peace separately than to be spurned and grievously wounded by the one you loved, only to regret it when it was far too late.

Song Tang said with a touch of embarrassment, "I was young and ignorant of love then, mistakenly believing that being childhood sweethearts meant deep devotion. Now that I am older, I realize our temperaments are simply incompatible. Forcing this union would only lead to endless strife."

Mu Changxiao narrowed his eyes. After a moment of silence, he spoke slowly, "Incompatible temperaments and a forced union are indeed of no benefit. But annulling an engagement is no trivial matter. Have you thought this through?"

"I have considered it carefully. If you, Marquis, can grant this, I would be eternally grateful." Song Tang’s tone was firm, her gaze steady.

Mu Changxiao felt a stir in his heart. "Do you already have someone else in your heart, which is why you wish to break the engagement?"

Song Tang was slightly taken aback, then gave a detached smile. "You misunderstand, Marquis. At present, there is no one else."

Mu Changxiao’s tone softened slightly. "The Young Marquis certainly did not stand by you yesterday; it is understandable that you are angry. Go home, rest for a few days, and think it over. I, too, shall give it some thought. If, after these few days, you still wish to insist on the annulment, come back to me, and I shall grant it."

Fearing that Song Tang was acting out of a fleeting moment of anger and might later regret it, he had given her time to reflect.

"Marquis, I came here having already made up my mind. There is no need for further consideration." Song Tang’s resolve remained unshaken.

Mu Changxiao stared at her, his voice deepening. "Your cousin’s coming-of-age ceremony was a scene of great chaos yesterday. If you insist on canceling the engagement today, do you realize that if I agree, your prospects for future marriage will become even more difficult?"

"If marriage prospects are difficult, then I simply shall not marry. I would rather live a solitary life than marry Mu Ziyu," Song Tang said dismissively. In any case, she had her own wealth; even if she never married, she could live a comfortable life.

"Will your father agree to this?" Mu Changxiao asked quietly.

Song Tang nodded. "I have already spoken with my father. His condition for allowing me to break the engagement is that Song Wei will take my place as the bride."

Mu Changxiao gently stroked the jade thumb ring he wore, his expression complex. "Then why did you only ask for the annulment just now, without mentioning Song Wei?"

Song Tang replied candidly, "There is no need for me to bring up Song Wei to you, Marquis. Mu Ziyu will come to beg for it himself."

"He will not," Mu Changxiao said coldly.

"He won't?" Song Tang asked, surprised. "Why do you say that, Marquis?"

Mu Changxiao glanced once more at Song Tang’s bruised face and said softly, "Never mind. Since you are so insistent on ending the engagement, I grant it. However, I hope you do not live to regret it."

Song Tang was overjoyed. She immediately stood up and bowed deeply to Mu Changxiao. "Thank you for your generosity, Marquis. I am truly grateful."

Mu Changxiao nodded slightly. "There is no need for such formalities. You have saved my life, and this favor warrants a return. However, one life in exchange for a mere annulment seems far too stingy on my part. If you have any other requests, feel free to state them together; I can satisfy anything, provided it is not arson, murder, or pillaging."

Song Tang was momentarily stunned; aside from the annulment, she could think of no other needs at the moment. After a brief pause, she spoke slowly, "Marquis, I cannot think of anything at this time."

Mu Changxiao chuckled. "Very well. I give you my word: if you have need of me in the future, do not hesitate to ask. I will not withhold my help."

A sense of warmth filled Song Tang’s heart, and she bowed in thanks once more. "Thank you, Marquis."

Leaving the Mu residence, Song Tang felt a sense of relief. Her steps were light, and even the cold wind brushing against her face felt as warm as spring. As she stepped out of the mansion gates, she looked back at the high-hanging plaque that read "Mu Residence," her heart a whirlwind of emotions. She would no longer have to marry Mu Ziyu; from this day forward, she had no connection to the Mu family.

Mu Changxiao’s guard, Wan Xing, escorted Song Tang to the gate. Just before she boarded her carriage, Wan Xing suddenly said, "Miss Song, this is a restorative cream used in the military. It is highly effective for reducing swelling. The Marquis specifically ordered it for you."

Song Tang accepted the medicine, a flicker of warmth rising in her heart, and she thanked him softly.

Wan Xing continued, "The Marquis is only six years older than the Young Marquis. He has spent years on the battlefield and has never had anyone to warm his heart."

Song Tang blinked in surprise, then understood his implication. "Understood. If I come across anyone suitable, I will keep the Marquis in mind."

Wan Xing: "..."

After leaving the Marquis’s estate, Song Tang did not head home immediately but instead went to the Wangyue Pavilion, a place Mu Ziyu frequented often.

Half a year ago, the pavilion had recruited three exceptionally beautiful women from the outer city to grace their establishment: Xingyue, a zither player whose music could heal the wounded soul; Yuyan, a dancer whose movements were as graceful as a fairy drifting over waves, enough to intoxicate any viewer; and Ziyan, a singer whose voice was so mellifluous that a single song could make one forget all worldly sorrows.

Countless young gallants in the capital vied for a glimpse of them, and Mu Ziyu was no exception.

The Wangyue Pavilion had since become a gathering place for the capital’s rakes. When Song Tang arrived, the lamps were just being lit, and the sound of strings and flutes drifted from within. Looking at the merry noble youths, Song Tang felt entirely indifferent. She knew Mu Ziyu was here, likely sitting in some private room with a beauty by his side.

In her previous life, Song Tang held a rather shameful memory, which was one of the reasons Mu Ziyu had eventually kicked her to death. That year, Mu Ziyu spent every day at the Wangyue Pavilion, and she would often go to find him, only to see him drinking and laughing with his band of ne'er-do-wells and the three ladies of the pavilion. Back then, she loved him so deeply, and because her mother-in-law blamed her for not bearing a child, she had repeatedly made a scene, losing all sense of dignity. Once, she had even caused a ruckus in the pavilion, smashing things and bringing great shame upon Mu Ziyu.

Mu Ziyu had left in a fit of rage and humiliation. Later, whenever he returned to the pavilion, he was mocked for having a "tigress" at home.

In this life, Song Tang would not care a whit about his sordid affairs. He could play however he pleased; it had nothing to do with her.

As her carriage arrived at the entrance of the Wangyue Pavilion, the waiter, sharp-eyed, hurried forward with a face full of fawning smiles.