Underneath A Thousand Skies ✔️

72 Foster Son, Don't Be So Crazy (9)

In the end, Song Jia had no choice but to bring Nian Shou along with them.

The abandoned palace that Song Jia had woken up in was already battered beyond repair, but there was a priest's house near to the stables that was relatively intact. As the abandoned palace was inside a dense forest near to the village, she could raise Xiang Feng in peace while letting him occasionally interact with the village children.

Song Jia also studied the map and found out that the capital where the royals lived was far away from them. Xiang Feng wouldn't have any chances to meet Princess Bai Xue. If she could, she only wanted him to live a peaceful and carefree life, far away from the filth that coated the rest of the world.

"This is your place?" Nian Shou prodded the cross that hung on the wall, looking around with a doubtful expression. "Were you a princess or something? I noticed a dried up moat not far away from here. But why is this place so banged up?"

Song Jia didn't want to explain her complicated situation. So she simply answered, "I found this place by chance."

Nian Shou nodded, accepting this explanation at face value. But Xiang Feng picked up a white porcelain cup on the table, studying the royal crest engraved on its front. His long lashes slightly hung down, giving a sideward glance at Song Jia's torn dress. It was obvious that it was made from moonlight silk, a high-quality fabric.

"You can sleep there." Song Jia pointed Nian Shou to a bed tucked beside a dusty bookshelf. "I'll sleep in the study, while Xiao Feng can take the main bedroom."

Xiang Feng looked up, his eyebrows tightly knitted. "I'll sleep in the study. Jia should take the main bedroom."

Song Jia was touched by his concern. She tousled his hair, which felt as silky as it looked.

"Don't worry about me, I can sleep anywhere. Since you're the youngest, you get the best room."

Xiang Feng looked up at her. Her eyes were clear and pure like spring water, while her smile was filled to the brim with warmth. Her gaze didn't linger on his scar like most people did, and when she touched him, it was as if she was holding a rare treasure.

A burst of sweetness flooded his heart. Xiang Feng clenched his fists, suppressing the wave of emotions that caused his small body to tremble.

Nian Shou walked towards Song Jia. He was holding a silver ornamental knife decorated with engraved flowers and vine patterns. Most of the blade was made from wood, but the pointed edge was tipped with iron. He tossed it from hand to hand, playing with it.

"Look what I found..."

He didn't manage to finish his sentence when Song Jia jumped back with a cry of alarm, her face pale.

"Throw that knife away!" she shouted.

Nian Shou froze, stunned. Xiang Feng swiftly moved forward and yanked it from his hand, before going to the window and chucking it out. The chilling glare he shot at Nian Shou was enough for the older boy to raise his hands in surrender, adopting a sheepish look.

"It was only a knife..." he mumbled.

"I'm allergic to iron."

Song Jia's voice was still slightly shaking when she spoke.

She straightened from where she scrunched herself against the wall, a lock of golden hair falling across her face. She forced her breathing to calm down and faced the two of them with a weak smile.

"I get rashes, my body becomes itchy, and my whole face swells up. It's an ugly sight to look at. I stay far away from iron as much as I could, because I have trouble breathing when I'm touched by it. Sorry for startling both of you."

Nian Shou breathed a sigh of relief. He glanced at Xiang Feng who had turned his face away from him. Nian Shou recalled Xiang Feng's frightening expression a short moment ago.

Inwardly, he wondered if she knew that the young boy she was going to take as her son had once murdered another child in cold blood.

Nian Shou would be the first to admit that he was not a good person, but compared to Xiang Feng...en, he would not be able to kill a person so easily, without a single ripple in his expression. He still remembered what he saw that day, as the young boy with a beautiful face but a horrible scar lifted the stone high above his head, smashing it again and again into the already caved in head of the dead corpse beneath him.

Nian Shou shook his head, clearing it away of those gory images.

The three of them began to work on making the whole house liveable again. Nian Shou lifted the heavy furniture and Song Jia swept the floor with a broom she found inside the pantry. Xiang Feng tailed her like a shadow, using a wet cloth to wipe off the dust that coated everything.

"You need to wring it like this."

Song Jia knelt beside Xiang Feng on the floor as she squeezed out all the dirt from the wet cloth into the pail of water. Xiang Feng followed her movements, and she nodded approvingly.

"Very good, you're a fast learner."

She patted his head.

Xiang Feng's cheeks reddened. He tugged his hair down to cover his scar, his head shyly bowed.

"Where should I put this?" Nian Shou came into the room carrying a large ink wash painting, his forehead full of sweat.

Song Jia stood up and led him to the opposite corner of the room. The two of them stood together as they adjusted the painting here and there.

"It's a bit crooked, you have to push it more to the left."

"What do you mean? It's as straight as it could be!"

Nian Shou was a head taller than Song Jia, and when they stood close next to each other, the curves of their bodies aligned perfectly. If Song Jia leaned a little closer, her head would fit into the crook of Nian Shou's neck, like a piece of missing puzzle.

Xiang Feng watched the two of them, his pitch-black eyes appearing unfathomable. The small and pale hands that were wringing the wet cloth tightened, twisting it until the cloth showed signs of strain.