“A woman’s foolish compassion.” This wasn’t the first time Zhan Qingcheng had used that phrase on Feng Jiu’er.

Jiu’er pressed her lips together, resisting the urge to roll her eyes at him.

“What I actually mean is, there’s nothing wrong with two people genuinely caring for each other. Of course, her mistake was being the other woman.”

“But back in this era there’s no such concept as ‘the other woman,’ is there? Men having three wives and four concubines is perfectly normal, isn’t it?”

The moment she brought this up, her resentment flared. “Why is it that men get to have three wives and four concubines, while women are expected to remain faithful to one man for life?”

“How many men do you want?” Zhan Qingcheng frowned. What on earth was going on in this girl’s head?

Could it be that she was actually fantasizing about other men?

“I don’t want many at all — one is enough.” Of course, not having any would be fine too. After all, she’d never thought about romance or marriage from a young age.

“I’m just saying, why should men get to have several women, when it’s not even true that having more makes them happier in the end? Maybe none of those women are even truly devoted to them.”

“Why wouldn’t they be devoted?” He didn’t actually care much about the question — since she’d said “one is enough,” he wasn’t bothered by the rest.

Feng Jiu’er wrinkled her nose and let out a scoffing laugh. “Tsk, you men think you’re so charming, assuming every woman will love you to death.”

“Do those men with three wives and four concubines really believe their wives will all stay loyal to them for life?”

“Either the wives go looking for other men behind their backs, or the timid ones quietly look out for their own interests on the side.”

“If a man can’t stay devoted to one woman, then he has no right to complain that his wives and concubines all have their own little schemes. By the time he’s old, everyone will be scheming for their own gain.”

“In the end, what does such a man really get out of it? A houseful of wives and children — so what? Is there even one among them who truly, wholeheartedly loves him?”

“Are you saying that the wives and concubines of great households don’t truly love their husbands?”

This kind of reasoning was something Zhan Qingcheng had never heard before. A woman married out follows her husband, and follows her son after his death — could it be that none of that was genuine devotion?

“People’s hearts are, in the end, the fairest thing there is. However much you give, the other person will weigh it accordingly in their own heart.”

“If you hand over a whole heart to someone, naturally they will give you a whole heart in return. But if you split yourself among several, letting each only receive a fraction, then naturally what they give you will only be a fraction of their heart as well.”

“Perhaps in the end you’ll discover that, in their hearts, you matter less than money — because you simply can’t be relied upon.”

“If he’s her husband, shouldn’t he be something she can rely on? How could he not be reliable?”

A man was meant to be something a woman could lean on — even without anyone telling him, he understood that protecting his wife was simply a man’s natural duty.

Feng Jiu’er, however, dismissed his words. “You marrying several wives… I mean, marrying a whole household of wives and concubines — which one of them could actually rely on you?”

“In the end, with so many people needing to rely on you, if I were one of them, I’d inevitably think, your shoulders only have a fraction left for me…”

“If this prince ever takes a wife, he will marry only one woman for his entire life.” So her theory simply didn’t apply to him.

“How could the Ninth Imperial Uncle possibly marry only—” Feng Jiu’er froze, struck by the resolve and seriousness in his eyes.

She had meant to say that among the nobility, which man didn’t have a houseful of wives and concubines? But faced with the depth of his gaze, so unwavering it left no room for doubt, the words simply wouldn’t come out.