The small building boasted a west-facing window, with walls of grey brick and dark tiles, and remnants of unmelted snow still clinging to the eaves. Lu Zhixing sat by the fire, drinking tea with a guest. He didn't particularly enjoy tea, but today he had company.

Seeing the messenger arrive, he tossed aside his exquisite jade teacup and impatiently snatched the letter. “Who sent this? Didn't I say that while I'm discussing important matters with Minister Rong, no one is to disturb us?! Have they no sense of propriety? Do they have a death wish?!”

The war in the east was intensifying, the court's situation was precarious, and the weight of recent events pressed heavily on Lu Zhixing's mind, leaving him weary. His temper had been short these past few days, easily ignited by the smallest spark.

“It's alright, you may leave.” Rong Yan, seated opposite Lu Zhixing, didn’t want any unnecessary commotion, so he subtly signaled to the messenger, who quietly withdrew.

“A’Yan, what's wrong with you? Anyone who disobeys like that should be dragged out, caned, and thrown to the wild dogs. My estate doesn't harbor such useless individuals.” Lu Zhixing leaned back, his long legs crossed beneath his black, gold-embroidered robe. A chilling glint flickered in his eyes; mere annoyance had already sparked murderous intent.

“Your temper has grown worse, hasn’t it? You called me here to discuss serious matters. There's no need for such a fuss over a careless servant. Perhaps the messenger was simply unaware, or maybe the letter is urgent. Why don't you open it and see?” Rong Yan’s beautiful almond eyes crinkled with a smile. Uncharacteristically, he offered a jest. “Perhaps it's another love letter from some noble lady who admires you.”

Lu Zhixing shot Rong Yan a disgusted look. “A’Yan, what nonsense are you spouting? You know I have no interest in women.”

Even in the relatively open-minded capital, both of them knew the truth went deeper than mere disinterest. Even the accidental brush of a woman's dress could leave Lu Zhixing in a foul mood for half a day, which was why his residence was devoid of any female presence. The memory of touching Shen Ruoyu's face that day, and the disgust that followed, only deepened his aversion to her.

“You criticize me, but what about you? When are you finally marrying that little shrew from the Shen family? I'm waiting for the spectacle. It's truly pitiful that she's taken a liking to you. What do you even see in her? Why insist on marrying her? Do you know she's promiscuous and frequents the Tianxi Pavilion for pleasure?”

Faced with Lu Zhixing's teasing, Rong Yan remained silent, lowering his eyes and quietly savoring the newly-tributed tea.

Suddenly, a soft chuckle came from across the table. Lu Zhixing reread the letter, his earlier anger dissolving into nothingness.

“What is it? What joyous news have you received?” Rong Yan was puzzled. What could have so pleased Lu Zhixing? Good news from the war front? Impossible. Military reports wouldn't be casually delivered by an unfamiliar servant.

“Shen Xinghuai has invited me to the city's plum garden tomorrow. He says he has something to tell me. I've admired him for so long, yet he's never reciprocated, always avoiding me. Why would he suddenly change his mind?”

Rong Yan stared at the corner of the table, a hint of melancholy in his expression. “Is that so? Then congratulations.”

Lost in his joy, Lu Zhixing failed to notice his friend's unusual demeanor. He simply nodded. “It is good news. But, A’Yan, I've heard your nephew has always held a grudge against Shen Xinghuai. You need to intervene. If you don't, I will. Don't come crying to me when you regret it.”

The young man was ruthless. He rarely took action, but when he did, he would undoubtedly cripple Qi Ziyi.

At that moment, Lu Zhixing was still lost in his dreams of Shen Xinghuai, unaware that he was being played. The letter filled him with elation. He longed for time to accelerate, for tomorrow to arrive swiftly, so he could finally see Shen Xinghuai.