Moonlight filtered through the paper windows, casting a hazy glow. Despite having done nothing, Rong Yan felt utterly exhausted, both physically and mentally. This year, Shen Ruoyu hadn't come to visit. Her absence, the lack of her bustling presence in the estate, had become unsettling.

Rumors ran rampant through the capital, whispering of Lu Zhixing's frequent invitations to the Shen family's young mistress. Rong Yan couldn't dismiss these rumors, no matter Lu Zhixing's intentions. Yet, he had no right to question Shen Ruoyu, especially since she had been avoiding him. Just two days prior, he had waited outside her residence for hours, but she refused to see him.

Setting aside his scroll, Rong Yan rose and wandered into the snow-covered courtyard. Every year at this time, a heavy snow would blanket the capital. He remembered Shen Ruoyu chasing after him, her voice echoing in his memory. "Lord Rong, I like you. Do you like me too?"

"I…" The words had caught in his throat. Love couldn't be forced. She loved him, and even though his heart hadn't stirred for her, he had married her to fulfill her wishes. Had he made a mistake?

"Uncle!" From the dappled shadows beneath the trees, Qi Ziyi watched Rong Yan with concern. In his eyes, his uncle shouldn't be like this. Rong Yan was the noble gentleman he admired most, a man meant for greatness. Why had he become so uncertain and lost in these past days?

"What are you doing here?" Rong Yan turned to see the slender youth running towards him. Qi Ziyi, feeling a surge of affection, wanted to rush into Rong Yan's arms as he had done as a child, but Rong Yan sidestepped him. His gaze was cold as he questioned Qi Ziyi, "Why are you at my estate so late? And your mother, letting you run wild like this."

Qi Ziyi's heart pounded with a mixture of emotions. He rushed to explain, "Uncle, I heard you caught a cold. I was worried and had to see you." Rong Yan's aloofness sent a chill through him. He had heard the rumors—how his uncle had waited for that woman for hours, only to be turned away. He'd even heard that Rong Yan had collapsed in the snow and had to be carried home. In Qi Ziyi's eyes, Shen Ruoyu was nothing but a fickle woman. Covered in tell-tale marks, she still met Lu Zhixing alone at teahouses. Why was it so difficult for his uncle to even see her?

"Uncle, what's wrong? Don't tell me you've fallen for her. Do you even know what kind of person she is? She's… not pure anymore!" Qi Ziyi had seen the marks of passion on her body. How could such a woman be worthy of his uncle? He'd rather believe his uncle was fond of Shen Xinghuai, that little nuisance.

"Silence!" Rong Yan's chest heaved. His hand trembled as he uncontrollably slapped Qi Ziyi. The sharp sound echoed in the silent courtyard. Rong Yan had always doted on his nephew; this was the first time he had ever raised a hand against him. Qi Ziyi clutched his cheek, tears welling in his eyes as he looked at Rong Yan. "Uncle… you've never hit me before…" He had been defending his uncle, and yet, Rong Yan had struck him for that woman.

Rong Yan turned away. "Qi Ziyi, I've spoiled you. I never want to hear you speak ill of her again." It was the first time Rong Yan had defended Shen Ruoyu. Before, when forced to choose between his nephew and his wife, Shen Ruoyu had always been the one he abandoned.