Qin Sisi, unsettled by Ji Xiaofu’s question, tugged at Hua Rong’s sleeve, urging him to leave.

　　But Hua Rong, too, was caught in the storm of his own anger and refused to heed her.

　　The irony was palpable. Moments ago, Hua Rong had pleaded with Sisi to leave, but she had stubbornly resisted. Now, Sisi implored Hua Rong to depart, only to be met with the same obstinacy.

　　"Yes! I do love Sisi! But my affection is open and aboveboard!" Hua Rong declared, his voice ringing out.

　　His words struck like thunder. Ji Xiaofu was baffled. Hua Rong had consistently championed Sisi, orchestrating their meetings, extolling her virtues, and even urging Ji Xiaofu to pursue her. How could he now claim his own love for her?

　　Who in the world would push the person they loved into another's arms?

　　"You... you..." Ji Xiaofu stammered, utterly stunned.

　　" Brother, I won’t hide it from you any longer. We were once in love, even betrothed," Hua Rong confessed.

　　"What? Betrothed? So Sisi... she was your fiancée?" Ji Xiaofu pointed at Qin Sisi, disbelief warping his features.

　　He could scarcely believe his ears. What madness was this? Even Qin An stood frozen, speechless with shock.

　　Sisi hadn't expected Hua Rong to reveal this past. Mortified as a young woman exposed, unable to persuade Hua Rong to leave, she could only flee alone, her face burning crimson.

　　The truth was, the Qin and Hua families were both pillars of scholarly gentry and prosperity—a match deemed perfectly "fitting" by society.

　　Their fathers served together in the imperial court, their bond close. Naturally, Sisi and Hua Rong grew up knowing each other.

　　Sisi, the youngest child and her father’s only daughter, was doted upon from infancy. Wild-spirited as a child.

　　She preferred adventuring outdoors to the confinement of needlework, and her indulgent father often took her wherever he went.

　　Like a spirited tomboy, she reveled in the company of boys, enjoying martial play and cricket fights, frequently disguising herself as a youth to join their games. Among them, Hua Rong was one of her favorite companions.

　　Seeing the children’s closeness, their similar ages, and the families’ social parity, the parents arranged their betrothal.

　　At that time, Sisi and Hua Rong were on the cusp of first love, tender feelings budding between them.

　　It seemed an ideal match. Fate, however, had other plans.

　　Both Sisi and Hua Rong, cherished and indulged since childhood, were clever and kind-hearted, yet equally headstrong and stubborn. As playmates, their differences were manageable.

　　But as they matured, individual wills solidified.

　　After their betrothal, their childhood camaraderie gradually shifted towards romantic love.

　　They were fifteen or sixteen then, inexperienced in nurturing such fragile, youthful affection.

　　They became a notorious pair of "bickering lovers." Apart, they ached for each other, arranging secret trysts. Yet when together, they inevitably clashed over trivial matters, descending into bitterness, followed by cycles of sulking, quarrels, reconciliation, only to quarrel again.

　　Hua Rong couldn't comprehend why Sisi constantly lost her temper, found fault with him, fixated on minutiae, demanded apologies for imagined slights, and seemed perpetually unreasonable.

　　Sisi couldn't understand why Hua Rong, her fiancé, couldn't be faithful to her alone, why he constantly broke her heart.

　　Perhaps this was the eternal divide between man and woman.

　　Men tend to deal in facts and logic; women are sensitive and nuanced. Her anger might not stem from a specific wrong, but from feeling unseen, unheard.

　　Her outbursts were often cries for attention—misinterpreted by men as mere caprice.

　　Hua Rong, handsome, brilliant, nobly born, and charming, naturally drew flocks of admirers. He reveled in the feminine attention.

　　In the relatively open social climate, where consorting with courtesans was common among scholars and artists, Hua Rong saw no harm. He claimed his relationships were emotional, respectful—viewing these women as confidantes, not objects of lust. Yet, this earned him a reputation as a libertine, with countless women, from noble daughters to famed courtesans, caught in his wake.

　　Furthermore, in a society accepting of multiple wives and concubines, Hua Rong believed his devotion to Sisi—pledging her the position of principal wife—was sufficient. He expected her to embody the dignity of a matriarch, not indulge in petty jealousy.

　　Sisi, however, possessed a fiercely resolute spirit. She could not tolerate this.

　　To her, love was sacred, inviolable.

　　"I wish for a heart that’s faithful and true,together till white-haired, never apart from you."

　　Sisi yearned for a man who would love and cherish her alone.

　　Their clashes over this were constant and unyielding.

　　Consumed by jealousy, Sisi had stormed and smashed several pleasure houses, earning notoriety in the capital as a "jealous shrew" and "tigress," while Hua Rong became infamous as the "dissolute young master."

　　Her reputation grew so fierce that most taverns dared not serve Hua Rong, fearing the wrath of the Chancellor’s daughter, his fiancée.

　　After years of this agonizing struggle, their conflict reached an impasse. Exhausted, they finally called a truce, dissolving their betrothal to remain simply friends.

　　Fearing for their cherished children's happiness amidst such pre-marital strife, the relieved parents readily agreed. Previously constrained by propriety, they were only too happy when the two amicably proposed the dissolution together.

　　Strangely, though incompatible as lovers—their romance a tempest of chaos—as friends, their bond flourished remarkably.

　　Hua Rong gradually understood: Sisi’s anger wasn't mere unreasonableness; it was his own trampling of her ideals of love. Sisi, too, came to see her own moments of excessive willfulness.

　　Friends, witnessing their renewed closeness, suspected reconciliation was inevitable, given their history of breakups and makeups. They were used to the pattern.

　　Perhaps Hua Rong and Sisi had considered reuniting. But hearts once shattered are not easily mended.

　　Initially, friends teased them, but Hua Rong and Sisi made a pact: no mention of the past, or friendship ended.

　　Gradually, everyone realized this separation was final, and the past remained unspoken.

　　Thus, despite their close friendship, Ji Xiaofu knew nothing of this shared history between Hua Rong and Sisi.

　　Yet, a first love—a passion carved deep in the bone—is not easily forgotten. Moving on required immense courage.

　　"Brother," Hua Rong continued, his gaze drifting skyward, perhaps tracing memories, "It took Sisi three whole years to forget me, to painstakingly push me out of her heart... until she met you. And I? It took me three whole years to transform that love into familial affection, to see her as a beloved younger sister, to cherish her, wishing only for her happiness."

　　After a pause, he added, "Second Brother, I’m not speaking solely for Sisi, but she is deeply wounded. She once loved me with such devotion, only to have her loyalty trampled again and again. Now, she loves you with such abject humility, yet your heart belongs to another. All she ever sought was faithful love. She waited three long years, met you—the one who could give her that happiness—but your heart was already given away. When you told me you were to marry, I was heartbroken. I couldn’t bear to tell Sisi, couldn’t bear to see her hurt anew. I set that trap for you, partly hoping she would give up on you. I knew she despised infidelity. By tarnishing your image in her eyes, I thought she could move on faster. Sisi never meant to hurt Ning Shuang. Whether she’s the Chancellor’s daughter, the Emperor’s child, or a commoner’s girl—that’s not her fault! You cannot blame her like that."

　　"Brother, do you know? Sometimes... I envied you. Sisi treated you so well. She learned cooking and needlework for you, tempered her wild spirit for you, defended you at every turn. Seeing you converse so easily with Rurú, she envied it. She stayed up nights learning poetry, painting, writing essays—just so you wouldn’t look down on her. Every time we met, she spoke only of you. Her eyes, her heart—they were full of you, far more than she ever gave me. Had she treated me with even half that kindness back then... perhaps... perhaps we wouldn’t have dissolved the betrothal. I think... I would have refused other women for her sake."

　　"Brother,stop please," Ji Xiaofu interjected, his voice now calm, his usual composure regained.

　　"You are right to rebuke me. I have no right to blame Sisi. The fault is mine alone. I failed Sisi. I failed Ning Shuang. I alone am to blame for the hurt done to them both."