Seventh Miss couldn’t help but pause slightly in surprise.

Although propriety dictated separation between men and women, and her conversation with Feng Jin seemed somewhat improper, on the other hand, he was her legitimate maternal cousin, and they hadn’t seen each other in years. With Elder Eunuch Lian as their shared elder, if she talked with Feng Jin a bit longer, could that really be objectionable?

Moreover, if Xu Fengjia had seen her conversation with Feng Jin, he should have known the two had no physical contact whatsoever—from beginning to end, Feng Jin had merely plucked a flower and placed it in her hair. Did Xu Fengjia really need to mind this so much?

“Yes, my cousin and I reminisced about the past,” Seventh Miss said with a furrowed brow, showing not a trace of guilt—there was indeed nothing between her and Feng Jin to feel guilty about. “If you can’t even tolerate me speaking with a young man…”

“That’s not what I mean!” Xu Fengjia interrupted her irritably again.

He bit his lip, rarely showing hesitation, glancing at Seventh Miss before turning toward the window.

“Forget it!” His tone grew cold. “We’ll talk when we get home.”

The carriage fell silent. Through the white mist at the window, Seventh Miss gazed at the desolate street scene—with curfew approaching, there were hardly any people left on the streets.

From Anfu Ward back to Chengqing Ward, they circled within the inner city. The carriage wound around several corners, and before long entered Coal Lane. The couple alighted at the carriage hall from their outer carriage. Xu Fengjia climbed out first, then strode rapidly out of the hall, disappearing to who knew where.

Seventh Miss couldn’t help but knit her elegant brows tightly. Watching his back turn toward Menghua Pavilion, she instructed Lixia, “Let’s return to change clothes, then go pay respects at Qingping Courtyard.”

It was already past the first watch, and Leshan Residence had closed and locked its doors. However, Madam Xu’s schedule had been irregular for many years—at the first watch, she often had no intention of sleeping yet. Seventh Miss returned to Mingde Hall to change into home clothes and freshen up briefly before entering Qingping Courtyard to report her safe return to Madam Xu.

Although her health had been poor these years, Madam Xu always kept abreast of major household matters. She couldn’t possibly be unaware that Xu Fengjia was quarreling with the Emperor over the Southern Ocean campaign, and she knew what this outing was about—Xu Fengjia hadn’t concealed it from his mother.

“It seems the discussion went fairly well,” Seventh Miss reported to Madam Xu with additions and omissions. “If several key ministers can all stand firm, perhaps with pressure from all sides, the Emperor might also…”

Madam Xu drew out a long sound, responding quietly before shaking her head.

“The Emperor is such an opinionated person,” she said, seemingly not placing much hope in today’s meeting. “If he truly wants to do something, I’m afraid we cannot stop him.”

After pondering a moment, her brow relaxed. “However, given the Emperor’s temperament, if Fengjia truly doesn’t want to go, he probably won’t force him.”

Despite these words, there was still some worry in Madam Xu’s tone. Seventh Miss couldn’t comfort her much, only adding, “The heir has gone to Menghua Pavilion, so he probably won’t be able to come pay respects to Mother for a while…” Then she rose to take her leave and exited Qingping Courtyard.

When she entered the Western Three Rooms, Xu Fengjia had already washed and changed. Topped with fresh moisture, he stood at the window in a daze. Seventh Miss glanced at him and went straight into the washing room to undress and freshen up, quietly asking Zhongyuan who came in to serve, “Has the heir been like this since entering?”

Zhongyuan looked thoroughly frightened. “Hasn’t he been fierce and menacing from the moment he entered?”

She had a quick tongue, unlike the steady Lixia and Shangyuan. Describing Xu Fengjia when he entered, she said, “Just like he’d swallowed a fly—we were all too scared to speak…”

Seventh Miss grew increasingly puzzled.

She simply stood behind Xu Fengjia and mentally reviewed her entire conversation with Feng Jin, confirming that neither he nor she had done or said anything inappropriate—it was just casual conversation between siblings. Only then did she stand beside Xu Fengjia and clear her throat.

“All of you may go,” she waved to Zhongyuan, adding, “No one needs to keep night watch tonight.”

The maids silently withdrew from the room, closing all the doors inside and outside the Western Three Rooms tightly, clearly understanding Seventh Miss’s implication.

Xu Fengjia maintained his silence throughout. Only the tense line at the edge of his lips revealed his negative mood. Even the sound of closing doors failed to elicit any reaction from the heir beyond silence.

Seventh Miss’s brow furrowed even tighter.

Xu Fengjia was definitely not someone who swallowed troubles when he had them. Just looking at how he’d suppressed his anger to come reconcile with her, and how he was willing to stay in the capital to support the situation, one could see that although this person sometimes acted impulsively, after his anger passed, he would always think calmly.

But now, rather than furious, he seemed… sorrowful.

She had rarely seen such low spirits in Xu Fengjia. Or rather, he had never displayed such emotions before her—it was, after all, a form of showing weakness, and Xu Fengjia was so competitive.

“Do you dislike me talking with my cousin?” Seventh Miss took the initiative to stand beside Xu Fengjia, gazing with him at the dim moonlight. “My cousin only brought me out from Uncle Lian’s place… You surely don’t think there’s something improper between him and me?”

Feng Jin wasn’t foolish, and of course Seventh Miss was even less so. Even if Xu Fengjia had misunderstood at the time, a moment’s thought should have clarified things—at the very least, he should verify. He couldn’t possibly have seen her and Feng Jin coming from the garden and jumped to conclusions, starting to brood alone, could he?

Seventh Miss felt slightly irritated—though she didn’t want to admit it, Xu Fengjia’s abnormally low spirits were affecting her emotions.

Throughout this entire day, her mind had been full of matters from morning to night, barely a moment’s rest. She was already quite exhausted, even losing interest in disguising herself. Seeing that Xu Fengjia still wouldn’t respond, she simply stepped directly in front of him, forcing him to focus his gaze on her.

“What exactly is wrong?” she asked word by word. “Whatever it is, you need to say it. If you say nothing, how am I supposed to know what to do?”

As soon as the words left her mouth, she felt slight regret—saying this made it seem like she lived to please him… But immediately, Seventh Miss pushed such calculations aside. She was truly mentally and physically exhausted. At this moment, to calculate so much again, she simply didn’t have the energy.

Xu Fengjia let out a long breath.

“It’s nothing!” he said irritably, turning his back to avoid Seventh Miss’s gaze. “We’ve been tired all day—let’s sleep!”

Seventh Miss simply stepped forward several paces and blocked Xu Fengjia again, quietly staring at him, clearly determined not to let this go without getting to the bottom of it.

“I’m already very tired today,” seeing Xu Fengjia unmoved, she added fuel to the fire. “I don’t want to sleep with worries on my mind.”

Xu Fengjia rubbed his brow. On his handsome face, a rare trace of weariness appeared.

“I saw you talking with Feng Zixiu,” he repeated his statement again, his attitude calm as water. “That’s all there is to it.”

Seventh Miss stared at him bafflingly. “Since when do you speak so indirectly? Or have you forgotten—he’s my legitimate maternal cousin…”

“I know he’s your cousin!” Xu Fengjia interrupted Seventh Miss’s explanation with a rough voice, his tone suddenly laden with anger. This actually put Seventh Miss at ease—if he could still argue, things weren’t too serious.

Though she truly didn’t know what she’d done wrong to provoke such an intense reaction from Xu Fengjia.

Xu Fengjia’s words stopped mid-sentence.

He took several deep breaths, seemingly trying desperately to suppress his anger. Avoiding Seventh Miss’s eyes, he shook his head and roughly concluded his statement. “Let’s talk tomorrow. Sleep tonight.”

Seeing that Seventh Miss still wouldn’t move aside, he simply lifted her by the waist and gently set her to one side, then proceeded to undress and sit at the bedside.

Only then did Seventh Miss realize that a life partner who refused to communicate could make one angry from the bottom of one’s heart.

She had been too exhausted to have the energy for anger, yet faced with Xu Fengjia’s obvious reserve, it seemed a long thorn had grown in her heart, making her uncomfortable whether sitting or lying down—much less falling peacefully asleep.

Reluctantly lying down beside Xu Fengjia, she closed her eyes, thinking through one thorny matter after another in her mind… Yet with Xu Fengjia’s every toss and turn, his abnormally sorrowful expression replayed behind her eyelids like posters plastered throughout the city of her mind—wherever her thoughts wandered, she couldn’t avoid it.

When Xu Fengjia turned over again, Seventh Miss finally could bear it no longer.

She sat halfway up abruptly and urgently patted Xu Fengjia’s shoulder.

“Xu Shengluan, what exactly is wrong with you?” Her tone actually contained a rare trace of pleading, though Seventh Miss had no mind to pretend indifference—she truly cared. “Do you dislike me talking with my cousin? Or do you just dislike us being too close with the Feng family… If you don’t say it, how am I supposed to know what to do?”

In her heart, a tiny voice seemed to let out a cold laugh, mocking her insincerity.

She knew! Seventh Miss irritably realized that just over a month of being together had already made her develop too much fondness for Xu Fengjia, such that his low spirits directly affected her emotions.

This was of course wrong. She should naturally correct it promptly. But tonight she was simply too tired. Reason had rarely retreated completely, leaving emotion to plead, almost desperately reminding her how much she cared about Xu Fengjia’s moods.

Xu Fengjia’s breathing suddenly grew heavier.

That trace of pleading in her words seemed worth more than a thousand speeches, instantly pushing his emotions to the edge of losing control.

He didn’t move, only opened his eyes. In the hazy darkness, Seventh Miss could still feel his gaze sweeping across her face, inch by inch, even with some caution.

“I saw you talking with Feng Zixiu,” he softly repeated his account again. “Yang Qi, I saw you talking with him.”

Seventh Miss took a deep breath. She almost wanted to scream—was talking with Feng Jin actually a capital offense?

She didn’t speak. Xu Fengjia laughed coldly and softly.

“You still don’t understand, do you?”

His voice was changeable—it had been angry like freshly forged ironware, scorching and deadly; it had also carried deliberate disdain, sharp as the finest needle. Yet no matter when—tired, helpless, or bluffing—there was always a vigorous vitality… But at this moment, this vitality had actually disappeared, leaving behind a stillness like stagnant water. As if…

Seventh Miss realized with shock that this tone was like her own voice.

“Since childhood, I’ve never failed at anything, never been unable to obtain what I wanted. Everyone around me has never failed to take me seriously,” Xu Fengjia raised his hand, caressing her cheek. His fingertips were still scorching, but this touch lacked the usual emotion. “Those who care for me hope I’ll achieve great deeds and bring glory to the family. Those who dislike me have always regarded me as a formidable opponent.”

“Only you, Yang Qi—only you have never taken me seriously. I knew long ago you didn’t like me, but the more you didn’t like me, the more I thought about you. I wanted to make you beg me, make you admit you were inferior to me. But after I went to the Northwest, when I stood in your former home in Yang Family Village, I thought instead about how you could have lived in such a place, thinking you should have fine clothes and exquisite food, should receive the same care as me—so that when you bowed your head to me, it would be a true bowing of the head… At that moment I realized that actually, in my heart, I had some fondness for you.”

“When I saw you again,” Xu Fengjia paused, swallowing, “you had become so beautiful. When we were young, I thought you looked nothing special—your Sixth Sister was much prettier than you. But then I realized that a person’s spirit and energy are so important they can surpass external beauty… I often stole glances at you when no one noticed, thinking about your quiet demeanor, that unfathomably deep feeling—it actually made me feel challenged.”

Seventh Miss listened to his confession in a daze, her breathing growing difficult. She had never imagined Xu Fengjia would use such a calm tone to discuss that past he found so unbearable.

“And indeed you were an unconquerable fortress. I couldn’t see through you. I thought you cared for me, but I couldn’t be certain… Yang Qi, you’re the most difficult puzzle, I can’t understand your thoughts. You say you care for me, but whether you truly love me, I can’t fathom. If you love me, why do you keep refusing, keep refusing to lower your chin even slightly to me? If you don’t love me, then why… why only toward me do you show that bit of something special?”

“But by the time I understood you truly had cared for me, it was already too late. Many things could no longer be salvaged… I hated you.”

Xu Fengjia laughed bitterly. His burning fingers wandered along Seventh Miss’s face, suddenly sliding to her lips, lightly pressing against her slightly parted lips.

“Shanli’s death was the second failure of my life—a failure toward Shanli, and a failure toward you. In the contest between us, I lost again. You were right, I was wrong.” Confusion entered his voice. “Yang Qi, why does every failure in my life have your shadow in it?”

Tears gradually gathered in Seventh Miss’s eyes.

She was even bewildered. In her heart, a force was assaulting her self-control. She wanted to stop Xu Fengjia’s words, wanted to preserve the false balance that had existed between them this past month. With some things left unspoken, some people kept beneath the surface, they could still carefully maintain their false warmth.

But this so-called affection seemed to be gradually crumbling with Xu Fengjia’s confession.

“When I was in Guangzhou, I thought a lot. I thought I had given Shanli too little support—for your sake, I should also return to the capital. I thought my time was too limited. To make you bow your head to me, to say ‘please’ to me, would always require patient work. As long as I was willing to wait, I could eventually wait for you to willingly choose me, rather than me constantly chasing you for a choice while you only told me you had no choice. I preferred to push slowly rather than trying to break down at once… the door around you… the door in your heart.”

“But today I saw you talking with Feng Zixiu. How much time have I spent watching you, Yang Qi? I know every expression on your face—toward elders, friends, enemies, servants, even toward me… But when you talked with Feng Zixiu, I hadn’t seen a single one of those expressions on your face.”

“I wanted so much, tried so many times to force you, wasn’t it all to see that kind of expression on your face? The sincerity I begged for but couldn’t obtain… why did you give it to Feng Zixiu so easily?”

He slowly withdrew his hand. “I kept telling myself to wait, not to push you too hard, to wait for you to open your heart and let me in. I know you didn’t have an easy life growing up, so you’re used to being guarded, used to pretending, used to… used to pushing away anyone who asks anything of you. But I didn’t know that you only guard against me so strictly, while caring for others, choosing others, is such an easy and simple matter. In your heart, you’ve never cared for me at all. You truly want to push me far away. Marrying me—you truly had no choice.”

His tone became shrouded again in that deathly sorrow.

Seventh Miss unconsciously touched her cheek, as if trying to hold onto the lingering warmth Xu Fengjia had left.

She seemed to have truly achieved everything she needed—she made Xu Fengjia believe what she had always needed him to believe: she didn’t like him, not at all, so he shouldn’t continue to entangle himself with her.

Two lines of clear tears unknowingly slid down.

She felt, she understood this was the moment she had been waiting for. If she let this moment pass, Xu Fengjia would no longer demand those things she didn’t want to give. Her feelings, her love, her caring.

Yet he would also no longer give her his concern, his love, his caring. He had already admitted that Yang Qi was his failure, and learning to admit failure was the first step toward accepting failure, forgetting failure.

Let go, let this moment go—Xu Fengjia would no longer be a variable in her life. She would gain an excellent husband, a husband no different from Gui Hanchun or Quan Zhongbai. In her life, no matter who played this role, they would merely be a symbol.

Then she would lose Xu Fengjia—this man she had been striving to deny, striving to resist; this man whom reason told her could never become the partner she wanted, yet emotion kept wanting to draw near; a vivid, unique Xu Fengjia.

The Western Three Rooms fell silent.

Seventh Miss counted her shallow breaths, listening to Xu Fengjia’s heavy, slightly choked breathing. She closed her eyes tightly. This silence suffocated her.

Push away, push away, let go. Her consciousness transmitted soundless, murmuring whispers.

No! Keep him! Another tiny voice screamed recklessly. Keep him, keep him!

In this instant, countless fragments from past and present lives swept over her. She saw Feng Jin, blooming in loneliness; saw Fifth Miss’s relieved smile before death; saw Sixth Miss’s suffocation; saw herself walking among crowds, free and unbound, yet boundlessly lonely.

That voice gradually weakened, finally becoming inaudible.

This suffocating silence lasted long enough—long enough for both their breathing to even out—before a quiet, cold female voice broke through the dense black stillness.

“Do you know why I could let down my guard in front of my cousin?”

There was no answer, yet that heavy breathing had already stopped.