Common Fatal Flaw

This was the first time Xiao Ruxu had ever left Cui Shifan’s side.

As the matriarch of the Cui Clan and formerly the eldest daughter of the Xiao Clan, Xiao Ruxu was not a name that rang many bells.

She had none of Lin Qingyan’s formidable reputation, none of Luo Zhao’s crown-princess aura, not even the lively buzz that surrounded Shangguan Yunying.

The only thing Xiao Ruxu was known for was one single act:

Among the countless scions of the Qinghe Cui clan, she had chosen Cui Shifan with a single glance.

Back then, Cui Shifan was nothing more than an obscure branch member—no background, no resources, no one paid him any mind.

Everyone thought Xiao Ruxu had lost her mind.

How could the eldest daughter of the Xiao Clan pick a lesser branch?

Why would she marry a young man with no future assured?

Why abandon more suitable, well-matched options?

Xiao Ruxu never explained.

She married Cui Shifan and then vanished completely from the public eye.

She never appeared at any banquets, never engaged in social events, never acted under the title of the Xiao Clan’s eldest daughter ever again.

She simply stood quietly behind Cui Shifan, being his steadfast helpmate.

She managed the household, handled the trivial matters, and steadied his rear.

The entire journey from an obscure branch member to Senior Grand Secretary of the Grand Secretariat bore her imprint at every step.

Not as the shadow that cleared the path ahead, but as the shadow that held firm from behind.

And so Cui Shifan could charge forward, take risks, and act with full freedom.

Because he knew that even if he failed,

there would be someone waiting behind him—a lamp lit, a home to return to.

Later, when the Xiao Clan collapsed, its entire line purged and its clan scattered like a toppled tree’s fleeing monkeys,

everyone assumed Xiao Ruxu would blame Cui Shifan. That she’d resent him for not lending aid,

for standing by and watching her birth family fall, for choosing silence when she needed him most.

But Xiao Ruxu did not.

She did not say a single word.

She simply stood behind Cui Shifan as always, quiet and still, as if nothing had happened.

Some called her cold-blooded. Some called her heartless. Some said she abandoned her own family for the sake of the Cui Clan’s interests.

No one knew how many tears she had shed in the dead of night. No one knew how many times she had woken from nightmares and silently lain back down alone.

No one knew how much strength it took for her to swallow every word she wanted to say when facing Cui Shifan.

Xiao Ruxu swallowed it all.

Because she knew that Cui Shifan hadn’t refused to help—he simply couldn’t.

Because she knew that under those circumstances, if he hadn’t acted as he did, the Cui Clan would have been destroyed as well.

Not because he didn’t love her, but because Cui Shifan had to take responsibility for many more people.

Because she knew that her identity now was no longer the eldest daughter of the Xiao Clan.

She was the matriarch of the Cui Clan, and she too had to answer for the Qinghe Cui clan.

This was a truth Xiao Ruxu had understood on the very day she married Cui Shifan.

It was only when she discovered that Cui Zilu, who had returned to Qinghe Commandery, was in an unsettling state that Xiao Ruxu left Cui Shifan’s side for the first time.

She set everything aside—the affairs of the Cui household, the social obligations in the divine capital, the decades of cultivated relationships.

She rushed back to Qinghe Commandery overnight.

The day she arrived, Cui Zilu was sitting alone in the parasol forest, hugging her knees, staring at the sky.

Xiao Ruxu did not ask what had happened to her daughter. She asked nothing at all.

She simply sat down beside Cui Zilu and watched the stars with her through the entire night.

The next morning, when the first rays of sunlight touched the parasol forest, Xiao Ruxu spoke.

“Zilu, your mother has a few words for you. Listen carefully.”

Cui Zilu lifted her head and looked at Xiao Ruxu.

She saw a light in Xiao Ruxu’s eyes—not a gentle light, not a sympathetic light,

but a light like steel that had been tempered by fire.

She had never seen such a light in Xiao Ruxu’s eyes before.

“Those women around Gu Chengyin truly are all formidable.

“Each one of them is stronger than you, more brilliant than you, more worthy of standing by his side.”

Cui Zilu’s tears fell immediately.

Not from grievance, but because Xiao Ruxu was speaking the truth.

She knew it was the truth. She had always known.

But Cui Zilu had never heard anyone say it to her so plainly.

Everyone else told her she was fine, that she was excellent, that there was no need to compare herself to others.

But Xiao Ruxu did not.

She told her outright: you are not their equal.

That was the fact.

Whether you accept it or not, a fact remains a fact.

Xiao Ruxu watched her daughter cry, but did not wipe away her tears.

Her voice did not waver, still that soft, even tone.

“But they all share one fatal weakness.”

Cui Zilu’s tears stopped. She stared blankly into Xiao Ruxu’s steel-tempered eyes.

“And that fatal weakness is your opportunity.”

“Lin Qingyan is the Jingzhe of the Celestial Master Mansion. Luo Zhao is the Crown Princess. Shangguan Yunying… just the daughter of a nouveau riche.”

“Each of them holds great power and rank, but precisely because of that, they look down on the rest of the world.”

Xiao Ruxu paused, her gaze resting on Cui Zilu’s bewildered face.

“So they will never lower themselves to prop up Gu Chengyin from behind.

“And as for Gu Chengyin—though I’ve never met him myself, from your father’s assessment, I can guess what kind of man he is.

“Someone like him will never truly trust anyone, not even his closest confidantes.”

Cui Zilu’s pupils contracted slightly. She had never considered this before.

She had thought that Gu Chengyin was with those women because he trusted them,

because they held a special place in his heart, because they had already crossed the threshold of that door he never opened to anyone.

But Xiao Ruxu told her: No.

That door had never been opened to anyone.

Even the most beloved could only stand on the doorstep and steal a glance inside.

And inside that door, there was only Gu Chengyin himself.

“So Zilu, this is your chance.”

Xiao Ruxu’s voice suddenly softened, like someone soothing a child after a nightmare.

“Gu Chengyin is indeed very capable, but that is because he has no foundation, no one he can fully trust.

“Therefore, he can only rely on himself, believing he can accomplish everything alone.

“What you need to do is to fill that void—become the helpmate he can truly rely on.”

Cui Zilu’s breath caught for a moment.

Helpmate.

She had heard those three words countless times—in plays, in tales, in stories of scholars and beauties.

It had always been her dream.

Cui Zilu had thought she would never become Gu Chengyin’s helpmate again.

But Xiao Ruxu told her: You can.

She could become the one Gu Chengyin needed, the one he could not do without,

the one he would always turn back to look at—no matter where he went, no matter what he endured, no matter how many people surrounded him.