Fukang'an didn't come, and Yan Ning didn't go to see him either. The resentment in her heart was stuck and couldn't be dispelled. The two of them just grew cold towards each other like that.

While resting on the warm couch, Yan Ning looked through the latest fashion trends in the capital, thinking about getting some new clothes for the old lady.

The curtain was drawn, but it couldn't be seen from the outside; the crystal curtain occasionally let in shadows of people.

In the courtyard, servants were talking about how Fukang'an stayed at Chunying Garden every night. After speaking, they sighed and said, "The general is really good to Aunt An. Even though he knows she is pregnant and cannot serve him at night, he still keeps her company every night."

"Look at the servants in other people's courtyards, they don't even have to run to the kitchen anymore! All the rare desserts and dishes from that kitchen have been given to Chunying Garden, while our Jianguozhai has no festive atmosphere at all!"

"Although Madam possesses unparalleled beauty, and the General has spent every night at Jian Gong Zhai, she has yet to conceive a child! If she remains this way as her beauty fades, her fate will be even more tragic than that of Consort Lian!"

"······"

A rough, coherent statement of the facts was abruptly cut short by Zhu Xiang's rebuke.

The Jian Gong Zhai courtyard was already quiet and cold, and these words felt to Yan Ning like several cold hands slapping her face, causing a burning pain.

The Peony Hall is no longer as luxurious as it used to be. Although the old lady used to worship Buddha, it was only occasionally. Now, she has set up an incense burner and Buddha statue in another side room of the main house, and she chants Buddhist scriptures every day. Even the inner room where she rests is filled with the heavy smell of incense.

When Yan Ning served the old lady morning tea to rinse her mouth, she took the tea, sat upright, and glanced at Yan Ning sideways.

"This room only has plum blossoms; it's rather plain!"

The old lady wore a black satin cheongsam embroidered with large red flowers, exuding both charm and elegance. Her hair was styled in a simple bun, adorned only with two matching jade orchid hairpins. Since falling ill for more than half a year, she no longer sought extravagance in her clothing as before.

Yan Ninghuan looked around and saw only two half-person-high blue and white porcelain vases with a few plum blossom branches inserted in them. The petals were pink and white, with snowflakes clinging to them, seemingly about to fall, which evoked a sense of pity.

She turned and met the old lady's calm eyes, and kindly replied, "If Mother finds the room too plain, I'll have the steward bring in two magnolia and chrysanthemum plants, shall I? Yesterday, while arranging the courtyard, I realized that winter offers more than just plum blossoms to admire; the delicate magnolia and the clusters of chrysanthemums are also delightful! I've recently selected several trendy flower patterns from the capital. Once Mother has chosen her favorite, I'll embroider them into a cheongsam for her, adding a touch of color to this Peony Hall!"

Yan Ning smiled as she took the teacup that the old lady had rinsed her mouth from, and was about to hand it to Zhu Xiang beside her when she was startled by another sentence from the old lady and dropped it to the ground.

"Kang'er's backyard is a bit too plain. How would you like to decorate it?"

Yan Ning's moon-white brocade cheongsam, embroidered with plum blossoms, added a touch of winter chill, which, combined with her current expression, made her realize how out of line she had been from the sight of the old lady's furrowed brows.

"The other day you caused trouble at Chunying Garden, and I took it for granted that you were the wife of the General! If you are jealous, what will you do to Wuxia, Wuqiu, and Wudong in the future? You are only twenty years old, and you can't spend your days throwing tantrums and making your husband coax you. If you have the mind to look at those flowers, you should stop and think about how to coax your husband to your own courtyard. He is the husband, and you are the wife. The husband is the head of the household, and this has never changed! How can you, little Yan Ning, defy the heavens and disrupt the nearly hundred-year-old rules of the Fucha family!"

The old lady's voice was serious, her expression even more solemn, and her eyes revealed her dissatisfaction with Yan Ning.

Yan Ning glanced at her, then lowered her head to receive the instruction, not daring to look directly at the old lady's face. She watched as the maid deftly cleaned up the broken teacup on the floor, the white, sharp interior of the cup revealing a cut on the maid's hand. Ignoring the injury, the maid nervously wiped away the blood dripping onto the auspiciously patterned stone slab, then bowed and left with the shards. Yan Ning didn't look up, so she couldn't see the maid's terrified expression, only a few drops of crimson blood on the maid's blue satin shoes.

Perhaps seeing that Yan Ning was beyond redemption, the old lady sighed softly, "It's all Kang'er's fault for spoiling you too much, allowing you to live such a comfortable life! When you grow old and your beauty fades, how can Kang'er still care about our past relationship! He has truly ruined you!"

Then he waved for Yan Ning to pay her respects and leave.

As Yan Ning left the Peony Hall, the old lady's earnest teachings echoed in her ears. Although she was worried about the decline of the Fucha family's ancestral hall, her last words were a sigh from a woman who had been involved in the power struggles of the mansion for decades, directed at Yan Ning, a naive child who knew nothing of such intrigues.

If she were forced to arrange for Fukang'an to take a concubine, like Xiying, she would rather hide away and live out her life in solitude. How could a vibrant spring be serene? With only one concubine, she was already at a disadvantage in every way; if there were one or two more, she might as well shave her head and become a nun.

Seeing Yan Ning's stunningly beautiful face puff up with anger, Zhu Xiang burst out laughing.

Yan Ning frowned. "What are you laughing at?"

Zhu Xiang lowered her head and fell silent. After a long while, she replied, "The lady's love for the general is so deep that it's almost etched into her face!"

"What word?" Yan Ning's brows furrowed even more deeply.

"No concubines allowed!" Zhu Xiang said, then couldn't help but laugh again, her oval face flushed.

Yan Ning withdrew her hand from the hot water bottle, half-covering her face. Its cool touch seemed to freeze the sorrow in her heart. Fukang'an treated her differently; how could he abandon her just because her beauty had faded? Thinking of this, Yan Ning felt at peace.

Upon arriving at Jiangongzhai, Yan Ning had someone summon Zhao Xing.

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