Chapter 299: Mrs. Meng Makes Her Move

Chapter 299: Chapter 299: Mrs. Meng Makes Her Move

Song Jing’s room was just as she had imagined: sparse and empty, small enough to take in with a single glance.

Besides the kang bed, there was only a pieced-together desk and a high stool. There was nothing else.

The quilt on the bed was neatly folded, covered by a dust cloth since its owner had been away for a long time. The door to the bedside cabinet was ajar, a corner of clothing peeking out.

The desk held only an inkstone, a brush, and a few scattered scrolls—not piled high like a top student’s desk in a later era. After all, paper books were expensive, and Song Jing spent most of his time at the academy, rarely returning home.

Ji Huan imagined Song Jing sitting at his desk, diligently reading and writing. The corners of her mouth curled up slightly before she caught herself and quickly smoothed her expression.

She helped Mrs. Meng sit down on the edge of the kang bed.

After a moment’s thought, she asked, "How are you feeling? If you’re uncomfortable, we should call a doctor. Or I can take a look for you."

Mrs. Meng waved her hand. "It’s nothing. I feel much better now."

Since everything was fine, Ji Huan prepared to leave.

But Mrs. Meng told her not to be in such a hurry.

"I rarely go out, and no one ever comes to visit. I can’t even find anyone to have a heart-to-heart with. I felt a certain kinship with you today. Would you mind keeping me company for a chat?"

As she spoke, she pointed to the stool opposite her.

With her putting it that way, Ji Huan couldn’t refuse and had to walk over and sit down.

’But what would they talk about?’

Ji Huan had never experienced anything like this.

If it were anyone else sitting before her right now, no matter who, she could have handled it with composure. But facing Mrs. Meng, she felt an inexplicable sense of restraint.

’Could this be that legendary phenomenon where loving someone makes you love everything connected to them? Was it because she cared for Song Jing that she found herself caring so much about his mother’s opinion of her?’

On the surface, Ji Huan showed nothing, but her mind was already racing uncontrollably.

Mrs. Meng clearly had no such reservations and was the one to start the conversation.

When a mother chats with someone, the conversation will, nine times out of ten, revolve around her own child. Mrs. Meng was no exception.

She told Ji Huan a great deal.

From Song Jing’s birth, to his first words, to his first wobbly steps, to his first lessons, and then to the tragedy that befell their family.

She spoke of having nowhere to turn with Song Jing in tow; of the two of them squeezed into a dilapidated, leaky house in town shared by a hundred other households; of how Song Jing, without her knowledge, went to work as a laborer, serving food and washing dishes at restaurants and inns...

Ji Huan listened quietly the entire time.

This was the side of Song Jing she didn’t know, the side she wanted to know.

If it weren’t for that latter half, the current situation would be very much like visiting a boyfriend’s house, where his mother would pull out a photo album, flip through it page by page, and explain the funny or embarrassing stories behind each picture. Then, she could use those stories to tease her boyfriend later.

However, Song Jing’s childhood had a distinct lack of interesting stories. It seemed all his happiness had come to an abrupt end at the age of five, and the days that followed were steeped in bitterness.

Stories of the mother and son’s plight had spread far and wide, and those who heard them might offer a sigh or two of sympathy, but who could truly understand the suffering they had endured?

Especially Song Jing. How old was he back then, to have to go through all that...

People say it’s difficult to emerge from the mud unstained, yet Song Jing hadn’t been corrupted by his hardships. Drawing strength from just a few scattered moments of warmth, he had grown into the gentle and resilient man he was today.

One could only imagine how hard it must have been for him.

And one could only imagine how hard it must have been for Mrs. Meng.

As Ji Huan was lost in her thoughts, a mix of emotions stirring within her, she suddenly realized something was wrong.

’Why is Mrs. Meng telling me all this?’

It wasn’t unusual for a mother with a son to be proud of to enjoy talking about and praising him to everyone she met, but there was no need to go into such detail.

’Could it be... that Mrs. Meng already knows about her and Song Jing?’

’Did Mrs. Meng find out on her own, or did Song Jing confess?’

Ji Huan had the distinct feeling of someone who had ’stolen’ another’s son, only to be caught red-handed. The skin on her face tightened involuntarily.

Connecting this to what happened in the alley, she was almost certain that Mrs. Meng’s supposed sprained ankle was just an excuse. Her real purpose was likely to get Ji Huan behind closed doors for a private talk.

’So the question is, what is Mrs. Meng’s stance on the matter? Does she approve, or does she disapprove?’

Mrs. Meng hadn’t spoken to her with harsh words or a severe expression. On the contrary, her tone had been nothing but kind.

If Ji Huan were truly a sixteen or seventeen-year-old girl, she might be jumping for joy right now, thinking Mrs. Meng had accepted her.

But unfortunately... Ji Huan’s heart sank slightly. She had a bad feeling.

Sure enough, Mrs. Meng then got straight to the point.

"Now that he has become a Scholar, the matchmakers have practically worn down my doorstep. To be honest with you, I don’t think much of any of them. They’re only after Jing’er’s fame and glory. Besides, given Jing’er’s current standing, matching him with some illiterate country girl would be beneath him. If he advances further in his career, he’ll be entertaining and socializing with high officials and nobles. He needs a capable wife who can hold her own in such company, not a burden who will make him a laughingstock."

She paused, as if realizing her words were inappropriate, and tried to mend the situation. "I wasn’t talking about you when I said ’country girl.’ Don’t overthink it."

The last trace of expression vanished from Ji Huan’s face. She shook her head and said calmly, "Please, continue."

Seeing her so composed, Mrs. Meng’s estimation of her rose a notch.

"But Jing’er is indeed of age to marry, and I’ve been thinking lately about what kind of girl would be a good match for him. My requirements aren’t high, really. Her parents must both be living, and she must have a spotless reputation."

’Both parents living, a spotless reputation.’

Every single condition completely blocked Ji Huan’s path.

"When both parents are alive, their children receive a proper upbringing. A daughter raised in such a family is one you can feel at ease with. Look around our village. Those who lost their fathers young are one thing, but those who lost their mothers early... they all grow up wild, without any proper guidance... Ahem, let’s not talk about that. I also have my reasons for requiring a spotless reputation. A good reputation means she doesn’t cause trouble or act brazenly. Isn’t that what you need in a wife? She can’t be running around outside all day, dealing with all sorts of riffraff. What proper young lady would do such a thing, wouldn’t you agree?"

Ji Huan nodded. "That makes sense."

She still appeared completely unfazed. Mrs. Meng realized this girl might be harder to dismiss than she had imagined.

"You’re a girl with her own ideas. Splitting from your family to establish your own household, doing business with the army, setting up a trade in town—which of these things could an ordinary girl ever accomplish? I’m telling you all this today because I was hoping you could help me think it over."

This time, Ji Huan spoke up on her own.

"Does this mean you already have a suitable candidate in mind, Aunt Meng?"

A rare smile appeared on Mrs. Meng’s face. "Indeed, I do."

Ji Huan’s heart sank even further, but her expression remained impassive.

"I wonder what kind of family’s daughter could possibly meet your standards."

This was the exact question Mrs. Meng had been waiting for.

"It’s the daughter of the Academic Administrator, Mr. Fang. They met during the first month of the year. That boy, Song Jing, was probably too shy and kept it from me. It wasn’t until the young lady’s family sent someone to our door that I found out the two of them have had feelings for each other for some time now."

Mrs. Meng glanced subtly at Ji Huan, her words practically overflowing with satisfaction.

"People say that a bond of marriage can be tied by a single thread across a thousand miles. I never used to believe it, but now I have no choice. Tell me, don’t you think they’re a match made in heaven, destined to be together?"