“I thought you would be pleased with my proposal, Miss Shen. You must be in low spirits lately.” 

He moved to drape the warm cloak around her, but she stopped him. “There’s no need, Master Rong. I’m not as fragile as you think. Since you’ve brought up the proposal, let me ask you: are you proposing to me, or to the Shen family’s influence? Or perhaps… someone else within the household?” 

Pleased? Who could be pleased to marry someone like Rong Yan?

Rong Yan’s hand froze, his expression flickering with discomfort before quickly smoothing into composure. “Our families are well-matched,” he said gently. “We’ve known each other for years; marriage is the natural progression of things.”

Shen Ruoyu stared at him. He always hid his true feelings so well. Rong Yan didn't need her specifically; he simply wanted a wife from a powerful family, someone obedient, a fitting mistress for the Rong household. Whether that person was her or not didn't truly matter to him. He wouldn't love anyone.

In her past life, she had dreamed of being his bride, filled with joy. But how had he treated her then? Before their marriage, she’d believed him to be a self-disciplined, righteous gentleman. Afterward, he grew even colder. She faced nothing but an icy, empty room and the disdain of others.

She didn’t enjoy poria cake. She wasn't gentle and compliant. She never favored elegant, subdued clothing. Her passions were horseback riding and archery, not embroidery and needlework. Rong Yan hadn’t bothered to understand her, not even for a moment. She couldn't simply forget the past and the resentment it bred. 

“Master Rong,” she said, “let’s discuss the proposal another time. I’ll speak with my father. Consider my past behavior… childish ignorance.”

Rong Yan frowned. “What’s come over you? Has someone said something? Have you forgotten my promise to speak with Grand Tutor Shen this year, to take you as my wife?” 

He was accustomed to the sweet, loving tones of her voice. This was the first time he’d heard such disappointment in her words. In just a few days, she seemed like a different person.

“Please leave, Master Rong.” Shen Ruoyu didn’t wish to speak further; her dismissal was clear. She swore to make Rong Yan pay a hundredfold for the humiliation she’d suffered. She was waiting, waiting to grasp the leverage that would bring him down, waiting for the opportunity to ruin him completely.

Seeing her rigid demeanor, Rong Yan’s throat bobbed. He nodded impassively. “Very well. I’ll return when your mood has improved.” He fastened his cloak and turned to leave the Shen estate. He hadn’t taken two steps when a servant dressed in coarse linen rushed past him.

He heard the servant’s anxious words to Shen Ruoyu. “My lady! Something terrible has happened! You must see the Young Master! When he was carried back from the academy just now, he was barely clinging to life!”

“What?! What did you say?!” Rong Yan whirled around, seizing the servant’s shoulders, his expression frantic. “What did you say? What happened to your Young Master?”

Shen Ruoyu watched him coldly. How strange. This was the first time she’d seen him so agitated over another person.

“Master Rong, you needn’t worry. This concerns my younger brother. Why do you seem more concerned than I? I know you care deeply for him, but the Shen family’s internal affairs are not your concern. Someone, see Master Rong out!” He hadn’t been half this distraught when she’d been dying.

“It’s not like that, I…” Rong Yan glanced at Shen Ruoyu, his words catching in his throat.

A house guard approached, gesturing towards the exit. “Master Rong, this way, please.”

Rong Yan, his heart heavy with worry, seemed reluctant to leave, but Shen Ruoyu’s attitude gave him no excuse to stay. He could only follow the guard out of the vast Shen estate, his heart unwilling.

Once he was gone, Shen Ruoyu turned her sharp gaze on the kneeling servant. “Xiao Liu, what happened? As the Young Master's personal attendant, you couldn't even look after him properly. What use are you?”

Xiao Liu trembled with fear. “M-My lady… Young Master Qi accused our Young Master of stealing his jade pendant. In front of everyone, he had a bucket of ice water poured over him and made him kneel in the freezing wind all morning. The Young Master… he’s barely clinging to life…”

Shen Xinghuai was frail. He’d only recently recovered from a cold, and the injuries Shen Ruoyu had inflicted hadn't fully healed. Now, after this ordeal, he’d been unconscious for who knew how long.

“Quickly, take him to Fufeng Residence. I’ll tend to him personally. From now on, that will be his residence.”

So, Qi Ziyi, her brother’s classmate at the Capital’s Songshan Academy, had been tormenting Shen Xinghuai. She hadn’t expected him to be so brazen, so reckless as to bully a member of the Shen family. She might not be ready to take down Rong Yan yet, but this arrogant young man was a different story.

“Xiao Liu, tell the steward to prepare the carriage. Once my brother awakens, I’m going to pay Qi Ziyi a visit.”

Shen Ruoyu then headed towards Fufeng Residence to find her unconscious brother. It was an elegant, secluded courtyard, far superior to his previous quarters. She pushed open the door and saw Shen Xinghuai lying on the bed, pale and still.

He murmured in his sleep, his words too faint to hear. She leaned closer. “Sister… Sister…”

Shen Ruoyu took his hand. “Don’t be afraid. Sister’s here. Sister will take care of Qi Ziyi for you, alright?”

She had been too lenient with Qi Ziyi. The useless boy, harboring forbidden feelings for her uncle, dared to take his frustrations out on her brother. If word got out about his perverse affections for his uncle, the entire Qi Marquis Household would lose face, forever disgraced. Rong Yan would distance himself from Qi Ziyi, and his official career would be ruined.

“What is it?” Shen Ruoyu, lost in thought, suddenly felt Shen Xinghuai’s grip tighten on her hand. “Sister’s here. The medicine will be here soon. You’ll be fine after you drink it.”