Seventh Miss took a deep breath.

She stared at the blurred traces of the hundred-treasure inlay in the darkness, almost devoutly tracing over and over with her gaze the exquisite craftsmanship. Deep within her heart, a part of her couldn’t help but wonder just how many years one must spend cultivating carving skills to embed pearls and gemstones so ingeniously into ebony wood as hard as iron, creating such a work of art…

The next instant, she firmly pushed away her wandering thoughts. She knew she was avoiding things again. After so many years of pretense, she had almost lost the ability to face herself naturally, let alone open part of herself to this dangerous man.

He was dangerous. She trembled finely from the bottom of her heart, thinking uncontrollably: he can hurt me.

In this world, those who could harm Yang Qi were few and far between. Among all those before whom she could let down her guard, draw near, and show her weakness and fears, only Xu Fengjia was unpredictable. Feng Jin wouldn’t hurt her, Ninth Brother wouldn’t hurt her—even Fifth Miss and Sixth Miss, given the choice, wouldn’t hurt her. She had to admit to herself that even if they wanted to harm her, the consequences wouldn’t be more severe than the damage Xu Fengjia could cause inadvertently.

Because what they demanded from her, what she gave them, was not irreplaceable. But what Xu Fengjia wanted, what she was even already giving in some ways—even she herself only had this much in a lifetime.

Seventh Miss didn’t even like using the word “love” to describe what he was demanding. That word carried a frivolous naivety unsuited to her gray life. This was something far heavier than love. She didn’t even know how to describe it—Xu Fengjia wanted her to open up completely, wanted her to accept him into her life. What he was demanding was a small piece of Seventh Miss’s very being.

And the chances of all this working were simply too small.

She took a deep breath and, like sleep-talking, for the first time before Xu Fengjia, half-implicitly and half-frankly admitted her weakness.

“Because he can’t hurt me, but you can.”

For someone as intelligent as Xu Fengjia, this was already a sufficiently direct confession.

The man beside her sat up in shock. Seventh Miss also adjusted her position, leaning against the headboard, calmly accepting Xu Fengjia’s gaze in the darkness.

“So…” Xu Fengjia drew out his tone. “Just because I can hurt you.”

His fingers found Seventh Miss’s cheek again, but this time with excessively rough force, abruptly roaming along her face as if trying to read her current expression with his fingers.

“I never knew you were such a coward, Yang Qi.” His tone was so contradictory—containing such turbulent anger yet calm as the lightest silk sliding across Seventh Miss’s skin. “Or in your heart, am I so unbearable? Haven’t I been good enough to you?”

Seventh Miss fell silent.

Xu Fengjia had undoubtedly been very good to her. Even the most demanding young lady in her position would hardly have any complaints.

Toward the attractive maids around her, he had never spared a second glance. Though busy with official duties, he still made time to accompany his wife and children. For his family’s sake, he was even willing to give up a voyage that could bring him glory and achievement… Even Second Miss’s husband Sun Liquan had taken in seven or eight concubines over the years, with two or three who bore children promoted to concubine status. Even men like First Master and Second Master were considered decent husbands in Great Qin. Xu Fengjia’s treatment of her was nothing short of exemplary.

No wonder he was so angry, had such confidence to question why she still wouldn’t compromise.

She suddenly felt very cold, yet this chill wasn’t like a sudden shiver but more a realization: she felt submerged in a pool of icy spring water. For a while, she had been numb enough to forget her situation. But in this moment, Seventh Miss finally understood that even though outwardly, and often psychologically, she had become very much like a person of Great Qin, she ultimately was not. In this society, she was very lonely. Her true self could never be fully understood. The more she refused to abandon the last bit of herself that remained, the more intensely she would feel suffocated.

“You’ve been very good to me,” she affirmed softly. “I know you’ve been trying hard to be good to me, to Fifth Sister, to Fourth Brother and Fifth Brother… You’ve worked very hard.”

She paused, biting her lip and constantly encouraging herself internally, even forcing that weak, evasive part of herself to face Xu Fengjia’s silent anger. He deserved an answer. He was worth an answer.

“But we’re still not equal… Xu Fengjia, I can’t give you anything from such a humble position.”

Xu Fengjia sharply sucked in a cold breath, but Seventh Miss fumbled to grasp his hand tightly, and he quieted again.

“I don’t mean you still hold onto your sense of superiority—that’s a different matter.” Instead, she calmed down, like a student who had finally submitted their exam, feeling a strange sense of liberation. “Once, in social status, we were unequal. You were the lofty heir, while I was just an insignificant concubine-born daughter. You were childish enough to believe this was sufficient to determine the relationship between us—you demand, I can only give. And your giving depended on your grace.”

She smiled silently. “But now you’re not like that anymore, and neither am I… I understand that behind this, you’ve certainly changed a great deal. Though not all because of me, the ultimate beneficiary is still me.”

Seventh Miss’s change in social status came from her own struggles and fate’s arrangements. Today, she was no longer that concubine daughter anyone could trample. No matter who became her husband, they couldn’t bully her at will. She could stand as an equal opponent across the board from any husband, engaging in a brilliant contest. She had gained the qualification to enter the game.

And Xu Fengjia’s change perhaps stemmed from his own maturity, perhaps also from Fifth Miss’s misfortune. He was no longer that boy who didn’t know the limits of heaven and earth, who demanded too much from others and himself. Even when she most wanted to push him away, Seventh Miss couldn’t deny this.

He had even learned to listen, allowing darkness to become her best camouflage, providing her a false sense of security, letting her continue to pour out the words that had been suppressed in her heart for what felt like eternity.

“But it’s still not enough. What you give me is still insufficient. You’ve done very well—perhaps no one in this world could do better than you, but for me it’s simply not enough… The problem is with me, not with you. The partner I want isn’t like this. The world I want isn’t like this.”

By the end, Seventh Miss had lost control. Despair surged forward all at once, competing to drown her reason, finding gaps in her words and rushing out.

The Western Three Rooms fell silent again. Xu Fengjia’s fingers stopped moving, instead thoughtfully rubbing Seventh Miss’s wrist, bringing a tingling sensation to her tender skin.

Seventh Miss let out a long breath.

She had never known that merely unburdening herself could bring such intense relief. She felt long-lost pleasant drowsiness—sleep no longer seemed like a task, no longer merely a way to replenish energy when exhausted, but finally again like a beautiful thing, beckoning to her enticingly.

She would never regret this, she thought hazily. She should have made it clear long ago. No matter what the future held, she owed this to Xu Fengjia. It wasn’t that he wasn’t good enough—it was that she was too advanced for him.

Then Xu Fengjia moved.

He leaned forward, his entire body pressing before Seventh Miss.

The ultimate distance suddenly transformed into ultimate invasion. Xu Fengjia instantly compressed her personal space almost to nothing. His burning breath blew directly against Seventh Miss’s ear, bringing a sharp stirring.

“Tell me.” His voice was as low as heavy, smooth brocade, pouring into Seventh Miss’s ears with an omnipresent scorching heat. “What kind of me do you want?”

With just this voice, Xu Fengjia conveyed a completely different attitude. Moments ago, he had been cold, disappointed, and distant, but now he was invasive, demanding, even vibrant with life.

Seventh Miss laughed and sighed.

“I know,” she said wearily, her hands seeming to have a will of their own as they circled Xu Fengjia’s shoulders, absentmindedly playing with the ends of his hair. “You still think everything is very simple—I state my desires, and you merely need to satisfy them.”

Xu Fengjia’s lips brushed across her cheek as he spoke, barely there. “It really is that simple. I care for you, you care for me. Everything else is trivial details.”

He paused, then laughed softly.

Though before her was absolute darkness, Seventh Miss could still trace the provocation in that smile—like that smile in Baifang Garden’s Siyi Pavilion years ago, containing the satisfaction of victory in hand, youthful ambition…

She trembled slightly.

She was human too, susceptible to temptation. Xu Fengjia as a feast had an influence on her that her current self couldn’t forcibly suppress.

“Tell me,” he breathed in her ear again. “How do you like me to act?”

The ambiguity in his words almost drew out tangible silver threads, penetrating every opening, drilling into her seven orifices, reaching her heart, twisting downward with an itching sensation that forced Seventh Miss to bite her lip hard to stop a distressed moan from escaping.

She struggled to suppress the trembling impulse, maintaining her calm composure.

He doesn’t even know what you’re demanding yet! she scolded herself inwardly. How can you get so excited, as if his showing willingness to listen to your wishes is already everything you want…

Damned female nature! Seventh Miss thought furiously. What Xu Fengjia had spent months scheming to achieve without success—just one gesture and her defenses were nearly routed.

“I want absolute equality,” she said, hiding her gasps, speaking rapidly and urgently. “This isn’t something you can give me just by saying you will.”

Xu Fengjia’s lips had almost touched the edge of hers, but with Seventh Miss’s words, he froze.

Only then could Seventh Miss catch her breath. She pushed Xu Fengjia back slightly, yet was reluctant to pull him too far away.

“You need to understand,” she gradually steadied her breathing, “I’m not something you can obtain with a crook of your finger… Even if you do everything I ask, we still might not be compatible, but certain promises you cannot take back. Shengluan, I might not be worth your sacrifice…”

Her warning was gently shushed by Xu Fengjia.

“Whether it’s worth it is my own judgment,” he said, like a buyer with heavy funds, cunningly circling near Seventh Miss’s ear, enthusiastically tempting her to voluntarily discount and reduce prices. “Just tell me what you want me to do.”

This phrase held too much temptation for women! Seventh Miss even felt somewhat angry.

“You need to understand,” she sat up, trying to lean against the headboard, away from this strong and burning temptation, calming her tone. “You and I are equal, Xu Fengjia. Even if the entire Xu family, the whole capital, all of Great Qin, everyone in the world expects women to follow the three obediences and four virtues, I’ve never taken that nonsense seriously.”

For the first time before another person of Great Qin, Seventh Miss brazenly revealed her contempt for the precepts and rules for women.

“I am a complete person. My existence is not to please my husband. No matter who my husband is, this point will not change… If you want me to be good to you, you must first be good to me. Loving me is not enough—you must also be good to me. You must understand my preferences and fulfill my wishes.” As she spoke, she found it somewhat amusing herself. “But first and foremost, you must understand that you and I are equal. Your goodness to me is not a favor—I can accept it or push it far away. Refusing you won’t make me a bad person.”

“But to me, you are the bad person,” Xu Fengjia complained softly. “I care for you so much, Yang Qi—”

Seventh Miss repaid him in kind, shushing his protest.

“How much do you love me?” she asked softly. “In this lifetime, can you have only me?”

The Western Three Rooms fell silent again.

Xu Fengjia froze completely.

Seventh Miss almost sympathetically patted his shoulder.

“I know this is difficult for you to accept,” she said with genuine understanding. After living in Great Qin for so many years, she understood that for men of Great Qin, sex and love could never be conflated. Taking First Master as an example, whether he loved First Madam was certainly not determined by whether he took concubines. Even if someone never took concubines in their lifetime, it was never out of respect for their wife—quite the opposite, it was due to fear of the wife’s family’s power or gratitude for the wife’s special favor. Though Xu Fengjia loved her, he would never see exclusivity as a basic requirement. “And I’m not even asking that once we fall in love, you can’t have anyone else. No, it’s not like that. To me, a husband who isn’t exclusive doesn’t even have the right to ask me to let down my guard. Even if in the future we open up completely to each other and find we’re actually incompatible, this exclusivity is still something I need. Xu Fengjia, we are equal. Even if all the men in the world have three wives and four concubines, in Mingde Hall, in my rooms, if I have only you in my lifetime, then you, in your lifetime, can only have me.”

“Don’t answer hastily—think it over carefully.” She sighed gently, brushing across Xu Fengjia’s brow. “At twenty, when your looks are still fresh, this promise isn’t difficult. At thirty, when I begin to age but you’re still young, you might still persist. Forty, fifty, sixty… A lifetime is long. There will always be fresh flowers around you ready to be plucked. Think first whether you can always say no.”

“And even after you make this promise, you might very well not like the real me. I’m very dull—even I find myself boring, not kind at all, can’t even be called considerate… and I have no particular talents.” She analyzed carefully for Xu Fengjia. “And don’t think you can deceive me, make this promise temporarily, then renege later…”

Her voice turned icy.

“Because if you dare do that, from the moment I learn you’ve been with another woman, I will destroy your life bit by bit—everything you value, everyone you cherish… I will make you feel that living in this world holds no pleasure whatsoever.”

Xu Fengjia fell silent.

Seventh Miss instead felt completely unburdened.

In all honesty, she had never been optimistic. Asking a man to give up all the flowers in the world for her alone—not even a particularly enticing bloom—was as cruel as telling a gourmet forever hungry that they could only eat one dish.

Yet even so, even knowing her demands could probably be met by no one in this world, she still didn’t regret setting such harsh conditions. Even if no one was willing to satisfy them, even if no one could satisfy them, even if she herself might not be worth a man educated in Great Qin paying so much just for this opportunity.

But doing this felt truly wonderful—showing her real self, regardless of whether she could find resonance, was a rare enjoyment for her.

“Ah, I forgot to tell you,” Seventh Miss even leaned forward a little, gently breathing in Xu Fengjia’s ear. “Imperial Physician Quan took my pulse. He said my constitution is poor—I’ll likely have difficulty conceiving.”

She relaxed completely, exhaling a relieved breath, revealing a genuine smile.

Seventh Miss felt she no longer needed to keep her back straight. For the rest of this life, she no longer needed to use external fortitude to encourage the fear deep in her heart.

After so many years, for the first time in this life, she had finally found her true self. Even if just a little, even if just a small piece, she was still herself—that orphan girl who, even with nothing, refused to completely compromise with reality.