After sighing, Jia Sidao waved at Chen Jian again. "You're injured. Go back and recuperate properly. Someone, escort him home."
Chen Jian could barely stand now, supported only by sheer willpower. Hearing this was like receiving a pardon. As he was helped out, he turned back with tears of gratitude in his eyes. "Thank you, Master."
Jia Sidao nodded. Only after the servants had closed the door did he say to Song Qingshu, "Because of you, your aunt has now been thrown into the Cold Palace."
"Ah?" Song Qingshu pretended to be shocked, though it was more or less what he had expected.
"Ah, ah, ah—what the hell are you 'ah'-ing about? If you weren't my only son, I'd slap you to death!" Jia Sidao would never normally lose his composure like this, but today's events had left him utterly frazzled.
"This is already the best possible outcome. If she had been an ordinary consort, the Emperor would have granted her a white silk cord long ago." After cursing for a while, Jia Sidao gradually calmed down. He stared at Song Qingshu. "As for you..."
"What about me?" Song Qingshu's heart skipped a beat. Jia Sidao looked grave. Could things be taking an unexpected turn?
"I used every connection I had to save you, but the crime you committed this time was simply too serious." As Jia Sidao spoke, he felt the urge to curse him again. But on second thought, someone had been plotting behind the scenes, so it was not entirely Song Qingshu's fault. He continued, "On top of that, Wan Qixie and Han Tuozhou kept fanning the flames before the Emperor. The Emperor intended to kill you several times. I exhausted every means at my disposal just to preserve your life. But while you may escape death,