The days that followed Yueli's return from the court assembly were heavy with silence.
Yuan found himself at a distance from her, though he spent every waking hour in the same house. He avoided her gaze at the dinner table. He feigned attention to the matters of the household, pretending not to notice how the servants seemed to whisper in corners when she entered a room. And yet, his mind could not escape the image of her standing there in court, speaking with such quiet brilliance that even the highest of ministers had listened. Even though he was absent that day when Yueli was summoned, there had been talks about her everywhere, about how brilliantly and confidently she spoke.
She deserves more than this place, Yuan thought bitterly, pacing the study late into the night.
He hadn't been there for her.
Not when they first married. Not when his family mistreated her. Not when she had been forced to find solace in silence.
His father's arrangement, his mother's coldness, and his own indifference had built this fortress between them. A fortress he was too afraid to tear down.
And now, she was slipping away.
Not physically—not yet—but in every glance she gave him. Every word she spoke that didn't touch him the way it used to. Every laugh she shared with others, with Xu Jin, that didn't belong to him.
Yuan had grown used to the distance between them, the space she gave him. He had convinced himself it was fine. This is how things are, how they have always been.
But it wasn't fine. He knew that now.
It wasn't fine, and he couldn't fix it.
….
The following week, as the evening sun painted the sky with the colors of twilight, a visitor arrived at the Lin estate—again, unexpectedly.
Xu Jin, with his calm composure and gracious presence, stepped off his carriage and into the dimming light. He was no longer the diplomat from the court; he had taken on a new role, one that was becoming more permanent in the Lin household. Yuan saw him as he made his way through the courtyard, speaking easily to the servants as though he belonged here, as if the Lin estate were an extension of his own.
And his eyes—those eyes—turned toward Yueli the moment she emerged.
He smiled, warm and respectful. "Lady Shen, I trust your recent travels have been rewarding."
Yueli returned his greeting with a nod, the faintest hint of a smile touching her lips. "It has been an enlightening experience, Lord Xu. I am grateful for the opportunity to contribute."
The ease between them was striking. Yuan's chest tightened.
His gaze flicked to his mother, who watched with narrowed eyes, her mouth pursed in disapproval.
Xu Jin was not a man of subtlety. He didn't need to be.
"Perhaps," Xu said, his voice carefully modulated, "if you're free tomorrow, Lady Shen, I could invite you to consult on a matter of health in the capital. There are several issues that would benefit from your expertise. It would be a privilege to have you join us."
Yueli hesitated only for a moment, her hand resting lightly on her fan. She was caught between the familiar weight of family duty and the unexpected pull of recognition. It wasn't the first time Xu Jin had asked for her opinion, and yet, the invitation felt different now.
"I would be honored," she replied with the same grace she had worn for years, but there was something in her tone, something soft yet firm, that spoke louder than words.
Yuan's heart clenched at the quiet exchange, at the way Xu Jin treated her like an equal, like someone worth hearing.
He swallowed the bitter taste that rose in his throat.
….
As the evening wore on, the tension between them grew thick. Yuan could hardly focus on anything—his food, the conversations at the table, the lingering silence that stretched between him and Yueli.
He watched her talk with Xu Jin, with ease, with a fluency that reminded him how much he had failed to recognize in her. And as the night deepened, as the sounds of laughter and the clinking of teacups filled the air, Yuan felt a growing sense of helplessness that gnawed at him.
Xu Jin was no fool. He had seen something in Yueli. He respected her, admired her, and though Yuan would never admit it aloud, he feared it.
When Xu Jin left that evening, bowing once more before Yueli with a subtle nod of appreciation, Yuan felt a weight settle over his shoulders. The walls he had so carefully constructed around his feelings were beginning to crack, one tiny chip at a time.
….
Alone in his study, Yuan stared into the shadows, the familiar patterns of ink and scrolls blurring before him. His thoughts were a storm—one he couldn't seem to calm.
In the distance, through the open window, the sound of Yueli's soft laughter floated to him on the breeze.
He could hear her joy, but it wasn't meant for him.
And that realization—simple, painful, and true—was enough to tear him apart.