Vivian.
The inner pavilion was a sanctuary of crafted serenity. Birds sang behind mana-sealed hedges. Lotus petals drifted across the surface of the koi pond, trailing ripples that shimmered like etched jade. The air smelled faintly of rosewood and steeped tea—serene, elegant, controlled.
Vivian Li sat beneath the silk canopy of her private chamber, back straight, arms folded loosely in her lap. Her robe was plum and pearl, understated but deliberate. A scroll lay unrolled on the lacquered table before her—half-read, completely ignored.
She was hiding in her room when she should be out enjoying the celebrations. But after the fight with her brother and husband. She couldn't bring herself to do it.
Everything was moving too fast. She was having a hard time following.
Behind her, three familiar voices murmured.
"Did you see how hard he got hit?" Yue whispered, breathless with the kind of excitement that made Vivian's temples tighten. "I thought he was going to pass out in the first exchange."
"He didn't fall until the very end," Luli added. "And how about how he kept his balance, even when the flow blew out of his spine. I've seen cultivators cry from less."
"What kind of man bows after someone attempts to humiliate them?" Xian said, soft with something almost like awe. "Young master Nathan is cheeky and competitive. He was out to hurt Master Ethan and yet he loses a duel and walks off like he won something."
Vivian dipped her brush into the inkstone. She didn't respond.
Because they weren't wrong.
Ethan had lost. Thoroughly. Brutally. The sword duel had been a disaster. Unshaped power. Overextension. Poor internal timing.
He hadn't adapted to Nathan's rhythm at all.
But he'd stood his ground.
He'd taken every hit without yielding, pushed himself to his limits and beyond.
And then, when the sword was set aside and mana forbidden, he'd shifted.
He had fought like a machine.
He'd fought like someone who'd never needed mana to begin with.
Yue spoke again, voice lower. "The footwork. Did you see it during the second round? No enchantments, no aura threads. Just… control."
"He took Nathan down without even pressing," Xian whispered. "Just tapped his leg and let him fall."
"He attacked from a completely unguarded position," Luli echoed, her voice shaded with disbelief. "He could have crushed Master Nathan. But chose mercy. No flourish. No need to prove anything."
Vivian pressed her brush a little too hard into the parchment.
Behind her, the tone changed.
"Do you think he'll take a second wife?" Yue asked suddenly.
Silence. And then—
"I mean… he could," Xian offered. "It's allowed. The marriage hasn't been sealed yet. Second wives, when the bond remains unsealed, in the Noble houses aren't totally out of the ordinary."
Vivian's fingers stilled.
Luli added cautiously, "You know him having a concubine or two is way more likely. Under imperial ordinance, the primary registry can be expanded after the ceremonial season—if the union hasn't been consummated. The family isn't even allowed to protest."
"What? I didn't know they weren't allowed to protest." Yue agreed. "I know its legal. But I'm don't know if I've ever heard of an incoming son-in-law of a Tier 1 house taking a second wife. A lover yes. A mistress. Common. A concubine, with all the bloodline mining thats going on that is even expected. But a second wife? I've never heard of it. Aren't they worried about about Bloodline Conflicts among the Tier 1 houses?"
"There's no risk of bloodline conflict not with the latest contraceptions from the Alchemist Guild centers. If he wanted to he could take a second wife but there really isn't a Bloodline conflict the Zhou bloodline is unconfirmed.," Xian added, just a little too quickly. "I think it likely he takes someone from a lower house or even a commoner. Apparently he was kind to everyone at University commoner and noble a like even if he is a bit cold. Besides, Master Zhou is a scholar. He certainly wouldn't be confined to pretty faces and bad attitudes."
Vivian's gaze hadn't moved from the scroll in front of her, but her breath was no longer even.
So much discussion about her husband. Not that she could complain. She had set the tone. She'd declared this marriage cold. Unentangled. Strategic. She had been clear. No intimacy. No expectation. No bond. He had agreed. Hadn't protested. Hadn't questioned.
And now—now her servants were wondering who he might take instead. A fair thought really, one that she had thought little about. She had not thought about Ethan and his desires, concerns or feelings about this whole thing. She just knew that her mother wanted it and that was that. She never thought he would pursue someone else because she was well—her. one of the Four Great Beauties.
Now that she thought about it was incredibility arrogant of her to assume that he would be so focused on her that he wouldn't desire another.
Not that she would admit that to anyone else.
Vivian considered the situation. Maybe it was time to try to look at this in a different light. Maybe…she wondered idly, if was upright as everyone seem to think that they could actually be friends.
Vivian zeroed back in on the maids conversations.
"It might be difficult for him to take a secondary wife from the nobility. It would be hard to be the secondary wife to Lady Li even if she doesn't really want him." Yue said.
"He doesn't seem the type to force anything," Luli murmured.
"Agreed. If he takes someone," Yue added, "he'll do it quietly. Respectfully. Probably for legacy purpose. I wonder what type of father he'd be and how'd he act in bed. So many of the young masters are selfish and unskilled."
Vivian face flushed and folded the scroll in front of her.
The crease was too sharp.
Her voice, when it came, was level.
"That will be all for this morning."
The maid froze. Probably not realizing that she was there and listening. They all stopped abruptly. And though she couldn't see their faces. She could feel the flow of their little mana they had. Voices cut off like string drawn taut.
Only Xian dared to glance back—once—before disappearing behind the silk-paneled doors.
Vivian stood.
She crossed the room, not with purpose, but with pressure—movement too still to be restless, too composed to be calm.
The breeze that drifted through the screen doors carried faint notes of cherry and cooling iron.
She stepped onto the balcony.
The air was cool and quiet.
Vivian stood there for a moment, letting the breeze tug at the loose strands of her hair. Somewhere beyond the estate walls, the sun was lowering over the cliffs, casting long shadows across the koi pond and tiled courtyards.
She didn't have to move.
She had no obligation, no real reason, no missing formality to chase down. Sure, she should participate in the celebration, but she could avoid that for now. Most probably thought she was checking on her husband.
Which was ridiculous.
She paused at that thought.
Then she turned. Slipped back through the pavilion's side corridor. Walked the long curve of the garden path with her hands clasped behind her back like this was just another inspection.
That's all this was. A formality.
She was the heir of House Li.
She had a responsibility to ensure the health and stability of her husband—politically speaking.
Yes. That sounded correct.
She was not concerned.
She was not curious.
She was not—
There he is.
Vivian stopped just short of the inner alcove's outer wall, her step light against the jade-inlaid stones. She didn't round the corner immediately.
Not when she heard voices.
Female ones.
She moved closer, silently, leaning just enough to see through the narrow frame of the open doorway.
And there he was.
Ethan.
Sitting shirtless near the low inner bench, bandaged but upright, speaking quietly to three healers—and of course they were beautiful.
Not just elegant. Beautiful.
All long lashes and subtle makeup, robes fitted just enough to imply competence and other extracurricular interests.
One was wrapping his arm.
One was handing him a bowl of spirit broth, kneeling like an imperial concubine.
The third was laughing at something he'd said.
Vivian blinked.
Once.
Then slowly stepped back into the shadow of the corridor.
Her heart did not race.
Her jaw was not clenched.
This was perfectly fine.
It made sense that the Harem Healers were there. He had earned her brothers' respect. It made sense that they would send their best. And of course, those "best" just happened to look like three spirit-blessed fan dancers moonlighting as battlefield medics.
She wasn't jealous.
Jealousy was an emotion. Vivian didn't do emotions.
She did logistics.
And the logistics of this scene?
Stupid.
She had come all this way—out of a sense of duty—to make sure her husband hadn't collapsed from internal mana hemorrhaging, and here he was being pampered like some long-lost war hero who'd bled honor all over some foreign battlefield.
Vivian turned on her heel.
Walked the other way.
Calm. Composed.
Not flustered.
Not bitter.
Not annoyed by how at ease he looked surrounded by women who weren't her.
She didn't care.
She didn't.
Because this wasn't real.
It wasn't a marriage.
And whatever else Ethan Zhou wanted to do in the privacy of his recovery room—
Was absolutely, entirely, and definitively—
None of her damn business.