Jun Moye unintentionally broached the subject, which immediately set his own heart on high alert. “Hahahaha,” Jun Moye chuckled, a dry, forced sound. “That was just idle banter. Miss Miao, I already have the musical score prepared for you. I wonder, do you also require me to transcribe the lyrics?”

Miao Xiaomiao blinked, still reeling from the tide of shy sweetness, but when she heard Jun Moye’s words, she felt something was distinctly off, though she couldn't immediately articulate what. “Naturally, I do.”

Miao Xiaomiao responded instinctively, lost in her daze.

“Then I shall set about transcribing it for you immediately. Heh heh, a trivial matter, hardly worth mentioning.”

Jun Moye laughed heartily. “This ‘Elegy of the Buried Flower,’ once it reaches your hands, will undoubtedly bloom with spectacular beauty—a perfect complement to the work. I too shall consider a personal wish fulfilled…”

Saying this, he took up his brush. His hand moved with the speed and grace of a dragon soaring through the clouds, completing the work in a single, vigorous sweep, ink splashing liberally…

The three conversed for a brief while longer. Then, Miao Xiaomiao rose to take her leave, carrying the musical score away with Little Sprout. Yet, a nagging sense of unease followed her; something felt amiss, but she couldn’t pinpoint the source of her disquiet.

Miao Xiaomiao only sensed that today, Mo Junye seemed strangely distant compared to last night. A faint, ineffable sense of detachment was beginning to rise within her. Though it was just a shadow of a feeling, the sensation was remarkably clear.

Miao Xiaomiao desperately wished her intuition was mistaken! Why? Why had she cast aside a maiden’s modesty and come here herself, only for him to maintain this attitude? Why treat her this way?

Last night, although Miao Xiaomiao’s actions had bordered on forceful, even carrying the air of burning one’s bridges, she had clearly perceived a flicker of hesitation within Mo Junye’s heart.

He wasn't entirely unwilling to accept her!

He had felt moved!

That sliver of sweet feeling from that moment had accompanied Miao Xiaomiao throughout the entire night!

That was precisely why she had lowered her feminine reserve again today, so eagerly…

But now, her current experience felt drastically different from her expectations. Could this be disappointment, even despair…?

After spending a night clinging to life and death together, why had Mo Junye suddenly become so alien?

And—no, that wasn't quite right. Initially, he had even used her as a reason to escape their predicament.

At that time, she had clearly felt that Mo Junye hadn't treated her as an outsider, but rather as kin…

In that moment, Miao Xiaomiao distinctly felt a deep sense of satisfaction. A woman’s intuition could never be wrong. But, relying on that same intuition, this faint distance she felt now seemed to have originated right after that joke about the ‘attendant concubine’! Ever since that remark, Mo Junye had noticeably grown aloof. Why? For what reason?

Could it really be just because of a joke? Even if it pointed toward a future reality, such a dramatic shift seemed unwarranted!

It was only a joke…

Miao Xiaomiao’s female intuition was indeed correct.

It was just that the reality differed slightly from what she had imagined.

In truth… even Jun Moye himself didn't fully grasp why he felt this way. As a young man educated under socialism… well, though he lacked formal orthodox schooling, the concept of monogamy was already deeply ingrained within him. A person might love different individuals, but that required enduring the pain of separation and severing the past before embracing a new affection. But Jun Moye had forgotten. He had been transmigrated for quite some time now!

This world fundamentally operated on the principle of the strong reigning supreme, with men prioritized over women. Furthermore, constant warfare had led to a deficit in the male population, causing a severe imbalance in the gender ratio. This imbalance necessitated the establishment of a polygamous social structure. And the most crucial point: enjoying the blessings of many wives was the ultimate dream of every man—a universal truth across all societies and nations, whether the man was accomplished or not! Jun Moye was no exception…

Arriving in this era where polygamy was both legal and justifiable, he found his deepest masculine vanity satisfied. Thus, Jun Moye required no time to adapt; he had already accepted this reality—this manifestation of fortune for all men. Perhaps, this was merely the universal weakness of mankind.

Consequently, it became the weakness of this young master, Jun.

On this matter, it seemed that whether one was a gentleman or a rogue, a sage or a hero—as long as they were men… their hearts beat to the same rhythm, their logic aligned. The only distinction lay in whether the man possessed the self-restraint to control himself.

Those who could exercise restraint were deemed good men; those who could not were… But in the current environment, Jun Moye didn't quite qualify as a good man. Or perhaps, it should be said, he never once considered exercising such restraint. Therefore, his thinking on this matter aligned perfectly with all the ancients: the harmony of the inner court!

This was the absolute priority a man needed to consider in this era and social context: 'When the inner court is harmonious, all affairs prosper!' This principle was divorced from morality; it was simply… as Jun Moye would put it crudely: Damn it, there are few men here, fewer teapots than cups… What choice do I have? Just let nature take its course! After all, it’s not my fault…

Although she had obtained the precious score of the Elegy of the Buried Flower, Miao Xiaomiao’s mind was nowhere near it. She remained consumed by confusion: Why this sudden coldness today? Had my feelings yesterday not been clear enough? What exactly does he mean? Is this a rejection?

Carrying this deep frustration, Miao Xiaomiao returned home dispirited. Her spirits had plummeted to their lowest ebb; she didn't even wish to speak.

The observant Mother Miao, seeing her cherished daughter depart brimming with excitement only to return heavy-hearted and melancholic, naturally grew anxious. She quietly summoned Little Sprout aside for a thorough interrogation.

But Little Sprout seemed utterly clueless about the situation and could offer no explanation. Mother Miao, helpless, went to her daughter’s chambers to personally console the morose girl.

After much coaxing and countless persuasive efforts, Miao Xiaomiao finally managed, with much blushing and hesitation, to reveal the cause of her distress. Lost in confusion, she desperately needed someone to confide in and seek counsel from, and her mother was undoubtedly the best candidate.

However, Miao Xiaomiao didn't immediately grasp the core issue. It was only under the persistent, loving questioning of Madam Miao that the essential facts of the matter were finally drawn from her hesitant lips.

Putting the sequence of events together, Madam Miao could only manage a wry, sighing smile: her daughter, after all, remained too innocent. Though clever and astute, she was still naive when it came to matters of the heart.

“Mother… what is it?” Her face flushed as she asked, having exhausted all other options. “Why is he being so distant? Is he rejecting me?”

“Sigh… my unfortunate child,” Madam Miao hesitated, unsure how to begin.

Even though she herself had once been a celebrated talent, guiding her daughter through this situation felt unexpectedly difficult.

After long deliberation, she chose a roundabout approach. “Xiaomiao, you mentioned that when you revealed your heart to Mo Junye last night, he was moved but offered no definitive commitment, is that correct?”

“Yes, but I am certain he felt something. Otherwise, I wouldn't have left so easily.”

Miao Xiaomiao pleaded with a pitiable expression.

“Then that is it. Xiaomiao, listen to your mother and let him go. You will not find happiness with that man.” Madam Miao sighed, tentatively advising her.

“Why? Mother? Why would you say that? How can such a wonderful man lead to unhappiness?”

Miao Xiaomiao’s eyes shot open in shock. “Mother, surely you wouldn't stand by and watch me become a mere tool for strengthening the family alliance through marriage?”

Madam Miao sighed deeply. “There are no absolutes, child. Even becoming a tool for a marriage alliance doesn't necessarily preclude happiness. Look at your father and me—were we not in such a situation? Are we unhappy now?”

“No!”

Miao Xiaomiao cried out in alarm. “Mother, I am not like you were then! You didn't know anything back then. But Mother, even if you knew nothing, didn't you, as a young woman, harbor a dream of your own? I dare ask, how much does the Father of today align with the man in your dream?”

Madam Miao’s delicate frame trembled slightly, but her expression remained placid. “A dream… who doesn’t have one? But my dream was always ephemeral.”

“But my dream now is real! In reality, there is such an exceptional man! He is my dream! I cannot pretend I never saw him! Especially since we shared a life-and-death experience; he was the one who lifted my veil! I feel as if I have almost grasped him!” Miao Xiaomiao exclaimed passionately. “If Mother and the family insist I marry someone else, I would rather choose death!”

Watching her daughter speak with tears glistening in her eyes, yet with such resolute determination, Madam Miao felt a profound sense of helplessness. “Xiaomiao, when I said you wouldn't find happiness with Mo Junye, it wasn't meant to frighten you; it was a truthful assessment. Have you ever considered why Mo Junye refuses to accept you? With your character, your beauty, your family status, lacking arrogance or presumption, possessing supreme intellect and extraordinary profound power—you are perfectly matched to him, a divine pairing! Not only would you be his most capable aid in advancing his career, but even in domestic matters, your mother believes my daughter would be an outstanding, virtuous wife and capable mother—able to manage both the hall and the kitchen. Simply by marrying you, that man’s standing within the Illusory Estate would be secured, saving him five hundred years of struggle! Any man who isn't blind would see that! So why does he still refuse? Why? Have you truly never stopped to contemplate this?”