Seeing Madam Du's flustered expression, Yuan Xi found it rather amusing. He had never realized before that the dignified and courteous Madam Du was, in fact, someone prone to overthinking. Though the two shared an intimate relationship in private, she remained extremely cautious, constantly worried that if Lü Lingqi were to discover their affair, she would lose face in more ways than one.
Little did she know, Lü Lingqi had already pieced together the truth from subtle clues, yet she chose not to mind. Among all the women in Yuan Xi's inner quarters, she trusted Madam Du the most. Moreover, Lü Lingqi's unique status kept her somewhat distant from the others; having Madam Du, a familiar presence, by her side eased her sense of isolation.
Yuan Xi gradually came to realize that although Cai Zhaoji, Lü Lingqi, and the others were nominally his concubines and appeared outwardly content, they each possessed a quiet pride. Cai Zhaoji abandoned her public identity, Lü Lingqi preferred the battlefield, and even Mi Zhen had repeatedly expressed her wish to remain in Haixi to manage the Mi family's fleet rather than return to inherit the family business.
Perhaps it was precisely because they had aspirations of their own—goals they were willing to pursue with dedication—that they could maintain their dignity as women. Yuan Xi held them in high regard. After all, in the long course of history since China moved away from matriarchal structures, women had become increasingly dependent on men. Their roles gradually narrowed to bearing and raising children, and their opportunities to display talent diminished alongside their declining social status.
Yet figures like Cai Zhaoji and Lü Lingqi stood out. In their respective fields, they refused to exist merely as ornaments attached to men; instead, they sought to compete on equal footing through their own abilities. Yuan Xi not only accepted this but deeply admired it. To him, it was absurd that in later, more equitable times—when women had far greater opportunities—some would willingly abandon self-reliance, choosing instead to depend on men while complaining about inequality. In his eyes, such people had regressed to a state even worse than that of women two thousand years prior.
Thus, Yuan Xi respected Cai Zhaoji, Mi Zhen, and the others all the more. In any era, those who refuse to reap without sowing, who possess ideals and the resolve to act upon them, are worthy of honor.
Thinking of Mi Zhen reminded him of another headache—the unknown whereabouts of his adoptive father, Liu Bei. It was said that after Mi Fang escorted Lady Gan to Ling County, he had a fierce dispute with Guan Yu. With Liu Bei still missing, his scattered subordinates who had gathered in Ling County were divided over their next course of action, leaving Guan Yu unable to extricate himself from the situation.
Yuan Xi could not understand where Liu Bei had gone. Had he truly perished silently in some remote ravine?
Leaning against the doorframe, Madam Du noticed Yuan Xi lost in thought, and her earlier anxiety gradually faded. Then she heard him say, "Aren't you tired of standing there? Come in and talk. I won't do anything to you."
She immediately panicked. "Young Master, I'll just listen from here."
"Didn't you say the same thing last time?" Yuan Xi replied, touching his nose. "And what happened then?"
Madam Du bit her lip, clearly unconvinced. Seeing this, Yuan Xi stood up, causing her to step back in alarm, nearly tripping over the threshold.
"What could I possibly do in broad daylight?" he said helplessly.
"Last time was during the day too…" she muttered.
Yuan Xi sighed. "Fine, go on then."
As if granted a pardon, Madam Du hurried away. Watching her leave, Yuan Xi shook his head. Though she showed little resistance in private, she was exceedingly guarded in public—but perhaps that contrast made things all the more interesting.
Inside the room, Cai Zhaoji was speaking with Cai Zhenji when they heard footsteps. As Yuan Xi entered, Cai Zhenji quickly rose to greet him, her emotions complicated.
She had been happy to reunite with her sister over the past few days, often sharing a bed and talking late into the night. Yet she could not ignore the discomfort of staying in Yuan Xi's inner quarters. When they slept apart, she could faintly hear Cai Zhaoji's voice drifting from Yuan Xi's room in the dead of night, leaving her flushed and restless, unable to sleep.
Fortunately, Yuan Xi had not forced himself upon her and rarely even sought her out, which gradually eased her anxiety. For her husband, Yang Dao, however, the situation was far more difficult.
Though he was allowed to visit, each meeting left him looking increasingly strained. It was only natural—his wife was living in another man's residence. No matter the explanation, suspicion was inevitable.
At first, Cai Zhenji believed that the trust built from their childhood together would prevail. But she soon realized things were not so simple. Yang Dao's gaze grew colder, his demeanor more distant.
Seizing a private moment, she reassured him, "I have done nothing improper here. Please believe me."
His expression darkened further. "If you have a clear conscience, why explain?"
Her heart chilled. "Do you not trust me?"
"We've known each other for years. Have I ever hidden anything from you?"
"Who can say?" he replied. "People change."
Anger flared within her. "Then why not take me away now if you truly doubt me?"
Yang Dao fell silent for a long time before finally admitting, "Do you think I don't want to? But if I return like this, how can I face the magistrate? If the Yang family offends the Yuan family, what future will we have?"
Her voice turned cold. "So I remain here because you refuse to sacrifice your career?"
"Husband, are you not afraid something might truly happen?"
At that, Yang Dao's face darkened completely, and he left without another word.
When Yuan Xi later informed Cai Zhenji that she could leave and return with her husband, she was stunned—and overjoyed. The sisters parted in tears, knowing they might never meet again.
Yang Dao, upon hearing what had transpired, could hardly believe his luck. Yet even then, a trace of suspicion lingered in his eyes. Though he smiled and praised his wife, he could not fully silence his doubts.
What he failed to realize was that Yuan Xi's decision had little to do with them at all—it was merely a strategic move to restrain Yuan Tan and stabilize the broader situation.
In the end, personal emotions were but small ripples beneath the currents of a much larger game.