Listening to Zhuang Shi Yang’s roars behind her, Han Yan’s lips curved into a cold smile. No one could control her life now. The debt of gratitude for raising her had been repaid to Zhuang Shi Yang in her previous life – this life, he would not destroy her again.

Han Yan’s vow to never become a concubine spread throughout the capital by the next day, becoming a topic of widespread discussion. Some believed her actions were improper, seeing her as a narrow-minded woman and the epitome of a wicked female. Others admired her courage, considering such boldness in a woman rare and commendable. Regardless of the rumors circulating outside, the person in question remained indifferent.

In the cold ancestral hall, Han Yan had been kneeling for exactly a day and night. Zhuang Shi Yang seemed to have forgotten about her – no one brought food, and Ji Lan, Shu Hong, and Madam Chen were nowhere to be seen, likely confined by Madam Zhou.

This time she had openly defied Zhuang Shi Yang, so such punishment was expected. Yet she felt increasingly disappointed in him – if he treated his daughter this way, what kind of person was he? Or perhaps… thinking of that suspicion, her heart filled with bitterness.

Fortunately, training in martial arts with Chai Jing had made her body stronger than before, even if her skills hadn’t improved much. Thus, she only felt weak and uncomfortable now – in her previous life, she would likely have fainted already.

Moonlight filtered through the skylight into the room. Han Yan’s stomach growled with unbearable hunger – going without food for a full day and night was harsh treatment even for prisoners. Yet the ancestral hall remained tightly locked, impossible to open from the inside. Han Yan stood up, walked to the altar table with the deity statues, and after some hesitation, reached for some of the better-preserved offering fruits. The fruits were quite old, shriveled, and tasteless. As Han Yan was ungracefully gnawing on one, a laughing voice suddenly came from behind: “Why are you eating so hastily?”

Already feeling guilty about taking the offerings and possibly angering the deities, the sudden voice nearly made Han Yan choke. “Cough, cough, cough” – she clutched her throat, coughing violently.

The person sighed, walked over, and supported Han Yan with a cool, slender hand while gently patting her back, saying softly: “Slow down.”

In the deep winter months, the person’s warm breath tickled Han Yan’s ear, instantly making it turn red. She twisted away, stepped back, and looked at the uninvited visitor with an unfriendly tone: “I didn’t know Your Highness had taken up the hobby of being a cat burglar.”

The ancestral hall had no other exit except the skylight above – Fu Yun Xi must have entered through there. Thinking of this, Han Yan couldn’t help but hold her head – were the manor’s guards all useless? A person in white clothes had entered completely undetected – the mansion’s security was truly concerning.

Seeing her standing there lost in thought, Fu Yun Xi raised an eyebrow and said: “This Prince merely came to offer help in time of need.”

Han Yan snapped back to reality, reflexively asking: “What help?”

Fu Yun Xi suddenly produced a cloth bag from behind him like a magician, placed it on the offering table, and opened it, releasing a delicious aroma.

It was a bag of exquisite pastries!

Han Yan stared blankly, asking: “For me?”

Fu Yun Xi made it as if to take it back: “If you don’t want them, I’ll take them away.”

Han Yan quickly pressed her hand over his, then withdrew it as if shocked by electricity when their fingertips touched. She lowered her head, thought for a moment, then suddenly looked up at Fu Yun Xi with a sweet smile: “Thank you, Your Highness.” She then grabbed a piece and put it in her mouth.

She had been starving, and these pastries Fu Yun Xi brought – from who knows which restaurant – was sweet but not cloying, surprisingly delicious. Delighted, her movements became endearingly crude as she spoke to Fu Yun Xi with puffy cheeks: “Which chef made these? The skill is remarkable.”

Fu Yun Xi replied flatly: “If you like them, I can bring you more in the future.” However, he thought to himself – these were made by the imperial chef, hired at great expense by the Emperor, who only made one small plate daily. Even the Empress hadn’t tasted these yet, but this girl got to try them first. At least she had good taste.

Han Yan rubbed her nose sheepishly: “That would be too kind.”

Fu Yun Xi found her amusing. Usually when he saw Han Yan, nine times out of ten she was plotting against others, maintaining an aggressive stance. He rarely saw her girlish side – her current unguarded eating manner showed a rare childishness. He couldn’t help but pat her head.

As that cool hand messed with her hair, Han Yan, busy eating, glared at the culprit. Why was he wearing that expression like he was playing with a small animal? As if she were a thirteen-year-old child – how awkward. Fu Yun Xi withdrew his hand and looked at her thoughtfully: “You swore to Wei Ru Feng you would never be a concubine?”

Han Yan’s throat tightened as she swallowed the last bite of pastry. She made an “mm” sound, but her movements gradually slowed. Wei Ru Feng and the Zhou sisters had lived up to expectations, spreading her words so quickly. The capital would be buzzing with gossip again, and in the future, young masters would likely avoid this “jealous woman.”

“Why?” Fu Yun Xi found a place to sit – even his casual posture was pleasing to the eye, like an immortal descending by moonlight into this cold ancestral hall, indistinguishable from a figure in a painting.

Han Yan held a pastry but didn’t eat it, looking at him: “Does Your Highness also think I’m a jealous woman?”

Fu Yun Xi didn’t answer her question, instead asking: “If you can’t find such a man, you’ll never marry?”

Han Yan nodded.

“Why?” he asked again.

“The sun rises in the east and sets in the west, bringing joy throughout the day. Ordinary men are fickle and unfaithful – how many can maintain their devotion for decades?” She sighed: “If one could find a partner to grow old with together, that would be wonderful. If not, that’s fate. Within the inner quarters, men only hear the laughter of beauties, and never see the tears of the abandoned. The struggle between concubines is an endless war. I simply don’t want to lose my life in this war, nor do I want to lose myself even if I win.”

Fu Yun Xi couldn’t help but scrutinize the young girl before him carefully. Han Yan was like a treasure chest, surprising him every time. She possessed wisdom beyond her years, yet it wasn’t off-putting – it was as if she had experienced all the world’s sorrows and emerged with a calm understanding that made one’s heart ache. The words she had just spoken – she was only thirteen, yet she spoke as if from personal experience. Setting aside the content of her words, just that determination alone – how many could maintain it?

After a while, he asked: “Do you have someone you love?”

Han Yan was stunned, not expecting this question. Someone she loved… in her previous life, she had been infatuated with Wei Ru Feng, but in this life, she felt only contempt and coldness toward him. Even if he had been her love, he was no longer in her heart. She shook her head: “No.”