Shi Yuanzhi’s voice was frighteningly calm.
He did not sound as though he were questioning her. It was more as if he were confirming a fact to which he already knew the answer.
Madam Liu’s tears finally stopped. Looking at the disappointment written across Shi Yuanzhi’s face, she suddenly realized that she had no words with which to argue.
She drew in a deep breath and held it in her chest for a long while before speaking. Her voice was so hoarse that it hardly sounded like her own.
“Marquis, you’ve changed. You weren’t like this before. You used to believe everything I said, but now you’d rather trust an outsider than me.”
Shi Yuanzhi let out a bitter laugh, his voice filled with bitterness and self-mockery.
“I’ve changed? Madam, is it that I no longer trust you—or that you’re no longer worthy of my trust?”
“And an outsider? Huai’er is my own flesh and blood. How could he be an outsider?”
Madam Liu’s face turned deathly pale. It was as if all the strength had been drained from her body, and she had to lean against the writing desk to keep from collapsing.
She opened her mouth, wanting to say something, but found that her voice was caught in her throat. No matter how hard she tried, she could not force it out.
Seeing her like that, the last sliver of hope in Shi Yuanzhi’s heart shattered completely.
“Madam, did you receive some news this morning? Did you know that those three madams were coming, and that’s why you had someone send me soup to keep me confined in the study?”
Madam Liu’s lips trembled several times before she finally managed to squeeze out, “I didn’t. I truly didn’t.”
Her voice was no longer as forceful as before. There was a lack of confidence in it now, along with unmistakable guilt.
Shi Yuanzhi looked at her as though she were a stranger.
He suddenly realized that he no longer knew this woman—or perhaps he had never truly known her at all.
“Then tell me. Why did those three madams come at the same time? Why did you happen to have someone send me soup? Tell me, one by one.”
His questions came like a barrage, each one striking the place Madam Liu least wanted touched.
Her face went from pale to flushed and back again. Her trembling lips opened and closed like a fish thrown onto the shore, but not a sound came out.
Her fingers clenched inside her sleeves with such force that her nails dug into her palms, leaving streaks of blood.
“I don’t know. I really don’t know. How many times do you want me to say it, Marquis?”
Her voice finally emerged, but it no longer sounded like hers.
It was hoarse and dry...
As if it had been forcibly dragged from the depths of her throat.
Looking at her, Shi Yuanzhi suddenly felt exhausted—so exhausted that he could no longer even summon the energy to be angry.
He turned and walked back behind the writing desk. Dropping heavily into his chair, he braced both hands against his forehead and closed his eyes.
“Madam, go back for now. I’d like to be alone for a while.”
Madam Liu stood where she was, looking at his utterly weary appearance. Her lips moved as though she wanted to say something, but in the end, she merely nodded and turned to leave.
When she reached the doorway, Shi Huai was still leaning against the doorframe, watching her in silence, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
The look in his eyes sent a chill down Madam Liu’s back, and her steps quickened unconsciously.
Shi Huai glanced at Shi Yuanzhi, who was still sitting behind the desk with his eyes closed. Without saying a word, he turned and left as well.
As he walked out, he pulled the door shut behind him. The door panels came together with a soft click.
Sitting behind the desk, Shi Yuanzhi listened to the sound and slowly opened his eyes.
The candle flame on the desk flickered, casting shifting patches of light and shadow across his face.
He remembered what Madam Liu had said just moments ago: “You’ve changed. You weren’t like this before.”
Had he changed?
In the past, he believed everything Madam Liu said. Whenever she cried, his heart would soften. Whenever she acted coy, he would agree to anything she wanted.
But now?
Whenever she said something, he had to ponder it for half a day. Whenever she cried, he felt she was putting on an act. Whenever she acted coy, he suspected there was some scheme behind it.
Had Madam Liu changed, or had he?
Or perhaps they had both changed—only in different directions.
Shi Yuanzhi reached for the book on the desk, the one he had flipped through countless times, and opened it at random. He could not take in a single word.
His mind was a complete mess. Everything was tangled together, and he could make sense of none of it.
The way Madam Liu had looked when she was young, the way Shi Huai had looked as a child, Grand Madam’s appearance before her death, that eternally unreadable face of Shi Yuanping’s—all of them churned together in his mind, stirring up a headache.
He set the book down, rose, and walked to the window. Pushing it open, he let the night breeze into the room.
The wind carried the distinctive chill of autumn. It brushed his face with a cool touch, yet it could not extinguish the fire burning inside his heart.
He suddenly remembered something Grand Madam had said while she was still alive.
“That wife of yours has an evil heart. Sooner or later, she’ll bring you ruin.”
At the time, he had refused to believe her. He had even quarreled with Grand Madam, accusing her of being partial and of disliking Madam Liu.
Now that he thought about it, Grand Madam had been far better at judging people than he was.
Shi Yuanzhi leaned against the window and watched the old locust tree in the courtyard rustle in the night wind.
A few withered yellow leaves drifted down from the branches, spinning through the air before landing on the ground with the faint sound of breaking.
He drew in a deep breath, closed the window, and returned to his desk. Picking up his brush, he tried to write something.
The tip of the brush hovered above the paper for a long time without touching it. A drop of ink fell onto the page and spread into a black flower.
He stared at that blot of ink for a long while, then set down the brush, crumpled the sheet of paper into a ball, and tossed it aside.
Leaning back in his chair, he closed his eyes. Madam Liu’s youthful face appeared in his mind once more.
Back then, her smile had been truly beautiful. Her eyes curved like crescents, the corners of her lips lifted, and her whole person seemed to radiate light.
To marry her, he had quarreled with his parents for an entire year. In the end, his father had declared, “If you marry her, then don’t ever acknowledge me as your father again.”
And still, he had chosen to marry her.
At the time, he had thought it was worth it. For that woman, anything was worth it.
But now?
He no longer knew.
