"Could you... take the fall for Yueyue?"
"Take the fall for Yueyue..."
"Take the fall..."
Xia Beiji's words echoed in Song Qingyi's ears. She felt a buzzing sensation in her head; the figures within her field of vision blurred and overlapped, shifting between reality and distortion.
So that was it.
No wonder they had gone to the trouble of getting her out of prison.
It turned out that Song Yueyue had caused trouble again, and they needed her, the scapegoat, to smooth things over.
So much for family affection, for missing her, for being the biological daughter of the Song family. She was merely a substitute, a spare part used to patch the holes in Song Yueyue’s perfect life.
"Qingyi, Dad knows this might be hard for you to accept, but Yueyue is about to receive a recommendation for a master’s program from Professor Lin at an Ivy League university in Country M. If she’s charged now, her life will be ruined," Father Song urged, his voice filled with earnest persuasion.
As if her own life being ruined was of no consequence.
Typical.
Song Qingyi’s lips curled into a bitter, mocking smile. In their eyes, she was nothing more than a stained, disposable pawn. If not for Song Yueyue’s drunk driving incident, she would probably still be rotting in prison, forgotten by the entire family. She never would have seen this day of regained freedom.
"Qingyi, your aunt and Yueyue are so sorry," Zhao Suihua said, her tears flowing steadily since Father Song had begun speaking. She sat beside Song Qingyi, gripping her hand and sobbing. "Your aunt knows you don't like Yueyue, so I discussed it with your father and Beiji—we’ll buy you a house of your own."
"Once this blows over, if you don't want to live with your aunt and me, you can live your own life."
Seeing Song Qingyi’s silence, Xia Beiji spoke after a moment of careful consideration. "Qingyi, even though you’re taking the blame, we will do our absolute best to ensure the other party agrees to a settlement. We won’t let you be locked up again."
That word "again" was incredibly subtle.
Song Qingyi raised her eyes, her gaze dark and piercing as she looked at Xia Beiji. Xia Beiji flinched for a split second before steadying himself.
"I will not take the fall for Song Yueyue again."
With those words, Song Qingyi pulled her hand away from Zhao Suihua and turned to leave.
"Song Qingyi! Don't you forget who gave you your life!" Father Song’s voice rang out.
Song Qingyi’s footsteps faltered. She looked at Song Yecheng in disbelief. "My life was, of course, given to me by my mother... Father, what do you take me for?"
To think he would use such words to threaten her.
"Yecheng, don't be like this. Qingyi has had a hard time. If the child doesn't want to, let's not force her. We’ll find another way for Yueyue..."
Zhao Suihua’s words were like pouring gasoline on a fire.
"She’s had a hard time?! What has she had a hard time with?! We have never mistreated her, yet how did she repay her eldest brother for bringing her home? She murdered her sister-in-law out of pure jealousy!"
"Song Qingyi! Tell us, how have we ever failed you that you would seek such revenge against us?"
Father Song gripped the armrests of his wheelchair, his face flushed, his chest heaving violently.
"Yecheng, stop it..." Zhao Suihua slumped over his lap, sobbing as if she were losing her breath.
"Uncle, please calm down. Qingyi, she..." Xia Beiji stepped forward to soothe him, but Father Song shoved his hand away.
"Song Qingyi, I’m asking you one last time: will you help Yueyue? If you won't, then get back to prison and atone for your sister-in-law’s death!"
Song Qingyi stood firm, looking back at Song Yecheng with cold eyes. What else was there to say? What choice did she even have?
Song Qingyi felt as if her heart were being sliced to pieces by a blade, an agony so sharp it was unbearable. Her face went pale, and the metallic tang of blood filled her throat. Back in the orphanage, she had fantasized countless times about what it would be like if she had a father and a mother. She had imagined endless possibilities. But never once had she imagined that her own father would not love her.
When she first returned to the Song family, Song Yecheng had been extremely distant, showing a facade of paternal kindness only in front of outsiders. Back then, Song Qingyi had lied to herself, telling her heart that his coldness was due to unfamiliarity, or that she had grown up too fast, becoming too mature for him to feel comfortable.
But look at Song Yueyue. He remembered exactly which dishes she liked, took walks with her, and ensured the servants prepared medicinal tonics according to her monthly cycle. He even went so far as to forget only Song Qingyi’s birthday gift, despite her and Song Yueyue sharing the same birthday. Despite her being his daughter, too.
On the day of the wedding, they could have called the police to conduct a thorough investigation and clear her name. But because of a few words from Song Yueyue, Song Yecheng had pinned the crime onto her.
From the very beginning, fatherly love and family bonds had been nothing more than a delusion—a wishful dream of her own. He had never once, not for a single day, truly treated her like a daughter.
Song Qingyi swallowed the bitter, metallic taste in her throat and tugged at the corners of her mouth, forcing her expression to look less sorrowful.
"I can take the blame, but I have one condition."
Zhao Suihua’s sobbing stopped, and she looked up, her eyes swimming with tears. "Oh, Qingyi, we’re family—what's with the conditions? Just tell us what you want; your aunt and father will never say no."
Song Qingyi pulled away from Zhao Suihua’s reach and spoke slowly. "I want you to pay for my grandmother's medical treatment. Once this is all over, let me take her to live in Furong Town. From that day on, we will have nothing to do with each other."
She would pretend she had never returned to the Song family.
She would treat this as settling the debt for giving her life.
She would… she would pretend she never had a father at all.
"You want to cut ties with me?" Song Yecheng laughed in sheer anger. "Fine, fine, Song Qingyi. You’re asked to help your sister once, and you want to sever our father-daughter bond over it."
"Qingyi, don't be impulsive. Auntie knows you don't like me or Yueyue, but regardless, Yueyue is still your sister. Even if you hate us, you shouldn't abandon your father and brothers just because of us..." Zhao Suihua began wiping her tears again.
"Qingyi, have you considered your uncle and aunt in all this?" Xia Beiji also felt her demands were unreasonable.
Hearing their words, Song Qingyi felt the strength drain from her entire body. She lowered her eyes, exhausted. "Whatever you say."
She was tired. She didn't want to argue anymore.
Watching her back disappear, Zhao Suihua finally collapsed onto Song Yecheng’s lap, sobbing. "Wuwuwu, Yecheng, it’s all my fault. If I hadn't thought of this plan, Qingyi wouldn't be angry with you..."
Song Yecheng was deeply incensed by Song Qingyi’s resolute departure. "Leave her be. Once this is over, the farther she goes, the better. I’ll just consider that I never had a daughter like her."
***
After turning to leave, Song Qingyi did not head upstairs to her room. She wanted to go to the hospital to see her grandmother, but as soon as she stepped out of the villa, she collided head-on with Song Julan, who was rushing back.
"Song Qingyi, you’re exactly the same as you always were." Song Julan looked down at her with a condescending air and threw a bag at her face. "You’d better think this through. Don't come crawling back to us when you can no longer survive out there."