You are not good enough for my son

The Dowager Duchess, Lianxue’s mother, had not bothered to hide her contempt for you. She had let the words slip past her usual mask of civility, her voice thick with condescension, her sharp gaze sweeping over you as though you were an unworthy intruder in her carefully curated world.

It was not the first time she had tried to wound you. But today, you had argued back.

You had not let her words go unanswered. You had stood your ground, fire meeting ice, your voices clashing like steel against steel. You were still seething, your breath sharp, your heart pounding with unspent rage as you made your way to the inner chambers.

Lianxue sat before his vanity, his long hair being pinned up with delicate golden ornaments, each movement precise and unhurried. As if he hadn’t just left you to fend for yourself. Your steps were loud against the polished wooden floors. Lianxue’s delicate fingers trembled slightly before stilling, as if sensing your presence before you even spoke.

"Ah..." His voice was soft, hesitant, a quiet thing that barely reached you. "You’ve returned." There was a pause. His eyes lifted to meet yours for just a breath before flickering away. He never held your gaze for long. He already knew.

"My mother…" He swallowed, his voice even softer now, as if he feared speaking too loudly would only make things worse. "She really did not mean to offend you, she simply-" he paused, his hands folding neatly over his lap as he searched for the right words, "She can be harsh, but I promise, it is only because she wishes the best for me. She—she worries for our household, for our future. It is not that she dislikes you, she just—"

"She only wants what is best," he whispered. Lianxue bit his lip, as if realizing too late that he had chosen the wrong thing to say. His mother’s words had hurt you, deeply, and yet here he was, softening her cruelty, making it seem as though it was not as vicious as it had been.