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"We are not meant to be," Song Feiwan said softly.
He Miao had a good impression of Rong Jiayi, and upon hearing this, her face revealed a look of disappointment and regret. She sighed, "Although I don't know what you think, sister, there must be a reason for your words. I’ve heard that Lord Rong is a high-ranking official from a prestigious family. Even if he truly has feelings for you, he wouldn't be able to take you as his legitimate wife, right? If it means being his secret concubine, I absolutely refuse. I'd rather be a poor man's wife than a rich man's mistress! Besides, with your excellent medical skills, we could open a clinic in Wujin City and never go hungry."
"After a couple of years, I'll ask a matchmaker to help you find someone suitable! A husband who matches your family background and knows how to treat you well!"
Song Feiwan chuckled at her words.
"What are you thinking about at such a young age regarding Lord Rong?"
Rong Jiayi stood alone in the courtyard, dressed in black attire with polished black boots, his dark hair tied back. He had been there for some time without her noticing.
He Miao suddenly turned her head and felt her face flush with embarrassment, wishing she could find a crack in the ground to hide in. She stammered out an excuse and slipped away.
Song Feiwan felt slightly awkward as well but quickly composed herself. These words were something she would have to say to Rong Jiayi sooner or later.
She nodded at him, saying, "Just wait a moment; let me pour out the herbs I've finished cooking."
Rong Jiayi stepped forward and placed his riding whip aside. "It's hot; let me do it."
Song Feiwan observed his face; there was no sign of anger or embarrassment. He had been coming often lately and was quite familiar with the process of handling the herbs, showing no signs of error.
After sealing the herbs, he lowered his gaze towards Song Feiwan. "Shall we talk?"
Song Feiwan nodded and followed him to the tree in the courtyard.
Rong Jiayi turned to face her, offering a gentle smile as he said, "I initially wanted to find a more suitable moment to express my feelings for you. Song Feiwan, I truly have feelings for you."
Feeling exposed by his declaration, Song Feiwan became flustered and looked away, unsure of what to say.
Rong Jiayi noticed her discomfort and said earnestly, "You don’t have to feel burdened. I'm not asking for an answer right now, nor will I pressure you. As for He Miao's concerns, I understand them well. I want to make it clear that I have never thought of treating you as a concubine. If you are willing to be with me, you will be my only legitimate wife."
His firm voice echoed in Song Feiwan's ears as she abruptly turned her head, staring at him in disbelief.
"Lord Rong, you know what my previous status was—your legitimate wife? How can you provide that?"
Rong Jiayi had clearly considered this issue, responding without a hint of hesitation. "Since you've decided to live as Chen Azhao, then we shall marry in Wujin City. You won't meet any of my family members."
Song Feiwan was taken aback. "What will they think?"
"I have already come of age and hold an official position; I can completely separate myself from the Rong family. They cannot interfere with my marriage."
Song Feiwan believed this. If the Rong family could dictate his marriage, even with his reputation for bringing misfortune to wives, he would have been married long ago.
A daughter from a prominent family refusing to marry was one thing; a girl from a humble background would not care about such matters.
The Rong family's status was such that they could never hope to reach that level, no matter how much they worshipped.
What surprised Song Feiwan even more was, "What about your official position? Will you never return to the capital?"
"Great trees attract the wind, and those who stand out are often targeted. Since Prince Zhi's return, the Rong family has become a thorn in many people's sides. In fact, my family has long had plans; either I or my father must withdraw from public life to protect the family."
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