“Your Seventh Concubine is gravely ill. Return immediately.”

This brief sentence stirred enormous waves in Yuanxi’s heart. Seventh Concubine had been as close to her as a mother, the person she relied on most during her time at the chancellor’s residence. How could she suddenly fall ill, and what kind of illness was it?

Yuanxi’s hand holding the letter slowly dropped as worry, fear, and doubt crept into her heart together. She understood that though the marquis residence appeared calm now, it was actually a towering building on the verge of collapse, fraught with danger. From the moment Xiao Du learned of his origins, he had been searching daily for a solution, seeking a path of survival for the Xiao Family Army and the marquis residence.

But why would Father send her such a letter at precisely this time? He knew all too well Seventh Concubine’s place in her heart. Whether this illness was real or fake, she would certainly return to see her. But what if this was merely a trap? Would he use her to strike against Xiao Du?

Xiao Du saw the doubt in her eyes, his gaze sweeping over the letter before he placed his hands on her shoulders: “It’s alright. I’ll accompany you.”

Yuanxi turned her head sharply: “No, you can’t go!”

Xiao Du rested her head on his shoulder, speaking gently: “You once told me that Seventh Concubine has treated you like her own daughter since childhood. I think she must also want to see what kind of person your husband really is.”

Yuanxi immediately felt her eyes grow warm, touched by the warmth flooding her heart. She had indeed harbored this thought—Seventh Concubine always worried she wouldn’t fare well at the marquis residence. If she could see with her own eyes how Xiao Du treated her, she would surely feel much more at ease. But what kind of place was the Chancellor’s residence? How could he casually go there? Moreover, given his special status now, he couldn’t afford a single misstep.

Xiao Du perceived her thoughts, gently wiping away the tears sliding down her cheeks as he smiled: “Don’t worry. It’s your home, not a dragon’s den or tiger’s lair. I’ll walk in openly and honestly—your father can hardly devour me.”

Yuanxi rested her head against his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat, suddenly feeling rather proud. This was her husband—not some prince or noble, but simply a man who held her at the apex of his heart, who treated those she cherished most as family, who considered her in everything.

The next day, after making brief preparations, they went together to the Chancellor’s residence. When Xiao Du’s tall figure appeared in the flower hall alongside Yuanxi, the residence’s chief steward Du Guangping was truly startled. He had only received word that the young miss might return to the residence—who knew the young miss would have such an esteemed personage following behind her?

As an excellent chief steward of the chancellor’s residence, Du Guangping’s greatest pride was that he kept a mental ledger of who was at odds with whom in court, who were confidants with whom. Whether receiving guests or hosting banquets, he had never made an error. But this time, he was somewhat dumbfounded. Marquis Xuanyuan had always been at odds with his master, yet he happened to be the residence’s son-in-law, and his status was incomparably noble. What protocol should he use to receive him? As he pondered, he couldn’t help stealing a glance upward. Seeing that person’s imposing bearing and noble temperament, he secretly made his decision: in any case, the master wasn’t present now—being overly attentive couldn’t be wrong.

He thus respectfully performed a grand bow: “Humbly welcoming Your Lordship’s gracious presence. To see Your Lordship today is truly an incomparable honor for this humble servant.”

Xiao Du seemed in good spirits, smiling as he looked at him: “I’ve long heard of Steward Du’s great reputation. Xi’er must have troubled you greatly during her previous time at the chancellor’s residence.”

Du Guangping, thinking of those tumultuous days, felt this person’s smile was somewhat ill-intentioned. He secretly bit his back teeth, just preparing to utter a few more flattering words when he suddenly felt a chill at his back. Turning around, the ingratiating smile froze on his face—he could neither maintain it nor withdraw it. Secretly swallowing, he laughed awkwardly: “Master, how did you arrive so quickly?”

Xia Mingyuan coldly raised an eyebrow. Du Guangping immediately realized his slip, wanting to slap himself—how had he carelessly spoken his inner thoughts? Watching these two men size each other up like two great deities, one dark-faced and grim, the other hiding daggers behind his smile, he felt this task was beyond him and quickly found an excuse to slip away.

Xia Mingyuan’s gaze swept over Xiao Du with sinister intensity, surprised he dared enter his chancellor’s residence so brazenly, even smiling so relaxedly as if he were merely visiting his father-in-law’s home. Then he shifted his gaze to Yuanxi beside him, her face full of apprehension, and snorted coldly: “Coming only now—your Seventh Concubine probably won’t last many more days. Go quickly to see her.”

Yuanxi’s eyes widened as her hand trembled, causing the teacup to slip and fall to the ground.

She hadn’t expected that Seventh Concubine was truly ill, and seriously so.

It was still that familiar room, now filled with the smell of medicine, bitter enough to penetrate heart and soul. The person who had watched over her growth and given her the most tenderness now lay weakly on the bed. In just a few months, she had become as thin as kindling, her weathered cheeks sunken, leaving only a pair of hollow eyes gazing upward.

Yuanxi felt as if her chest had been struck a heavy blow. Covering her mouth, she cried out in anguish, rushing to Seventh Concubine’s bedside and calling tremblingly: “Seventh Concubine, Xi’er has come.”

Seventh Concubine moved those clouded eyes over, then they shone with an unusual light. Tears flowed down the fine lines on her face as she gripped Yuanxi’s wrist with trembling hands: “Xi’er, you’ve finally come. I never thought this old woman would truly see you again.”

Yuanxi was already sobbing uncontrollably, shaking her head repeatedly: “I’m sorry. Xi’er was unfilial, only coming to see you now.”

But Seventh Concubine cried miserably: “No, it’s this old woman who has wronged you, wronged you…” She wanted to say more but suddenly noticed Xia Mingyuan’s tall frame blocking the doorway and immediately stopped speaking.

Yuanxi, lost in grief, didn’t notice her strange behavior. At this moment, Xiao Du had walked over, gently grasping Seventh Concubine’s hand: “Seventh Concubine, I am Yuanxi’s husband. Today I came specially with her to see you.”

Seventh Concubine was immediately extremely excited. She never imagined this would be the legendary Marquis Xuanyuan. She struggled to rise and bow, but Xiao Du firmly held her down: “Xi’er has always told me how you’ve cared for and protected her since childhood, with feelings deeper than a birth mother and daughter. Since she regards you as mother, you are also my mother. Today I come only as a son-in-law to see you—no need for excessive formality.”

Seventh Concubine trembled with emotion throughout her body. She could hear how much this legendary figure treasured Yuanxi, and could see the dense, indissoluble affection when the two looked at each other. The heart that had been suspended for so long finally relaxed slightly, but another kind of fear grew even stronger. She turned her eyes toward Xia Mingyuan’s direction, saying hoarsely: “Master, this servant wishes to speak privately with Xi’er. Might she be allowed to stay alone with me for a while?”

But Xia Mingyuan’s body didn’t move in the slightest, only saying coldly: “Whatever you wish to say, say it freely. Don’t mind me.”

The light in Seventh Concubine’s eyes dimmed. Yuanxi spoke many more words with her, but she couldn’t muster interest. Seeing her listless expression, Yuanxi assumed she was overly exhausted. Unwilling to let this meeting be too rushed, she boldly asked Xia Mingyuan to let Seventh Concubine return to the marquis residence. But Xia Mingyuan firmly refused, saying only that Seventh Concubine belonged to the chancellor’s residence—if she left while gravely ill, it would invite gossip.

Disappointment showed in Yuanxi’s eyes, but Xiao Du placed a hand on her shoulder, indicating she needn’t be too anxious and could plan again later. Yuanxi nodded, understanding this was the only way. Then Xia Mingyuan said: “Enough. Your Seventh Concubine’s condition isn’t suitable for much talking now. You’ve seen her—go out for now.”

Yuanxi grasped Seventh Concubine’s hand, reluctant to let go. But Seventh Concubine’s eyes suddenly blazed with startling brightness. She reached out to pull at Yuanxi’s clothing: “Xi’er, don’t forget your Seventh Concubine, don’t forget how you used to stay in my room every day.”

Tears flowed unceasingly down Yuanxi’s face, her heart aching unbearably. Just then she suddenly felt something foreign pressed into her clothing. She stared at Seventh Concubine in surprise, seeing her eyes shift between sadness, hope, and despair. Reaching out to touch her face, she whispered in the smallest voice: “Don’t blame Seventh Concubine, don’t blame me. I had no choice.”

“Enough!” Xia Mingyuan finally lost patience, positioning himself between them: “Staying longer will exhaust her body. If you don’t mind, have lunch at the residence before leaving.”

Yuanxi was still immersed in shock from what had just occurred. She noticed Seventh Concubine’s gaze toward Father was filled with hatred. Thinking of the object in her clothing, she naturally didn’t dare delay. She and Xiao Du hastily took their leave and boarded the carriage back to the marquis residence.

In the carriage, Yuanxi took out the object from her clothing, discovering it was a tightly wrapped medicine packet. Finding this increasingly strange, she opened the packet to find blackish medicinal residue inside. She suddenly remembered what Seventh Concubine had said to her—when she was eight, because she had to take medicine daily, she often stayed in Seventh Concubine’s room.

She exclaimed in shock: “This! This looks like medicine residue I took as a child.”

Xiao Du frowned: “What medicine? Why did you need to take medicine?”

Yuanxi said: “It seems when I was eight, I contracted a strange illness. Father found a doctor who said only by taking this medicine until my coming-of-age ceremony would I fully recover.”

Xiao Du felt an inexplicable jolt in his heart. Why would Seventh Concubine keep medicine residue, and why secretly slip it to Yuanxi at the last moment? He grasped Yuanxi’s hand reassuringly: “It’s alright. When we return, we’ll have Imperial Physician Zuo examine it and understand everything.”

In the main hall of the marquis residence, Zuo Qiao carefully examined the medicine residue for a long while, suddenly paling, then turning to Yuanxi: “May I ask, Madam, how long were these medicines taken?”

Yuanxi replied in a daze: “About six years.”

The imperial physician’s expression grew increasingly grim. He quickly approached her: “Please allow this old physician to check your pulse once more.”

The moment he placed his fingers on Yuanxi’s wrist, his fingers began trembling uncontrollably. Seeing his appearance, both Xiao Du and Yuanxi felt uncertain alarm, quickly asking: “What is the matter?”

Unexpectedly, Zuo Qiao lifted his robes and knelt with a thud, yet trembled without daring to speak. Xiao Du’s face darkened as he urged: “What is it? Speak quickly!”

Zuo Qiao raised his head, his gaze hesitant and uncertain. After a while, he trembled as he said: “If this old physician sees correctly, this medicine contains entirely cold-natured substances. If a woman takes it for long periods, I fear it will… will…”

Xiao Du shot to his feet: “Will what? Speak quickly!”

This seasoned old physician, having weathered many affairs, sighed helplessly and finally spoke these words: “Taking this medicine for extended periods causes severe uterine coldness that cannot be cured, making it impossible… impossible to conceive.”