Ming Tan stood over Old Woman Wang, who lay bound on the floor of the woodshed. “How did you communicate with Shoukang Palace while the residence is under guard? I need to know how to leave the Prince’s residence.”

Wang sneered, “My ability to contact Shoukang Palace doesn’t mean I can leave.”

“Never mind then,” Ming Tan turned to leave.

“Princess!” Wang called out. “I’ve heard there’s a secret passage leading outside, but I don’t know where. Even if I did, I couldn’t access it. But perhaps you could.”

Ming Tan left without a word, her mind racing to Jiang Xu’s study. She recalled the hidden room and realized the guards hadn’t known about the secret meeting that day. How could people appear in a secret room without the guards’ knowledge? She headed straight for the study.

On a dark winter night, Ming Tan emerged from the secret passage. The cold wind cut through her thick cloak as she boarded a plain carriage bound for Bieyu Tower.

Passing the government office, she noticed the bulletin board and stopped to read the edict. Seeing the imperial seals, the reality of the situation hit her. The edict matched Old Woman Wang’s words almost exactly, except the Prince of Dingbei would lead troops north tomorrow, not in three days.

She couldn’t wait. She had to see Jiang Qizhi tonight and hear his explanation. These were her father, brother, and clan members. She couldn’t gamble their lives on blind faith.

At Bieyu Tower, Ming Tan disguised herself as a servant boy and entered with her Bai cousin. The lively atmosphere contrasted sharply with her last visit as an unmarried girl.

“Second Cousin, I’ll go up alone,” she whispered.

“No way! I can’t let a young lady go by herself,” he protested.

“It’s fine. I know what I’m doing.”

As they argued, her cousin spotted a familiar figure. “Why is Mr. Zhou here? I thought he avoided women.”

“Which Mr. Zhou?” Ming Tan asked, following his gaze.

“My father’s most trusted advisor. You know my father’s temper—only Mr. Zhou can calm him down.”

Ming Tan froze, finally recognizing the shadowy figure. It was the third person from Jiang Xu’s study that day. Her uncle’s trusted advisor was Jiang Qizhi’s man.

Memories flooded back—Mr. Zhou mediated when her uncle wanted to confront the Duke of Ling’s household. If the Empress Dowager’s words were true, had Jiang Qizhi’s schemes begun even before her broken engagement?

How did her uncle learn of the Duke’s secret affair and illegitimate child? Was Mr. Zhou or the Prince involved? Were the rumors her uncle uncovered information the Prince wanted her to know? Why did those rumors spread so uncontrollably throughout the city?

Was her broken engagement and subsequent marriage to the Prince predetermined long ago?

Ming Tan hesitated at the foot of the stairs, suddenly unsure if she wanted to know the truth. Would she discover that what she thought was love was merely an illusion she had willingly embraced?

She recalled asking him once: “Did you marry me out of gratitude? Is that why you’re kind to me?”

“Not entirely,” he had answered.

She gazed up at the lanterns atop Bieyu Tower, their dazzling light almost painful to behold.

Inside a room on the top floor, Jiang Xu was discussing military strategy with his men. Suddenly, he paused and glanced towards the door. The room fell silent as everyone sensed something amiss.

Ming Tan had made her way to the top floor, knowing Jiang Xu often used this location. As she approached, guards blocked her path with crossed sword sheaths. “Who are you? This area is restricted. Leave immediately!”

Ming Tan removed her hat, letting her long hair fall. She looked up calmly and said, “I am the Princess Consort of Dingbei, here to see the Prince. Is that not allowed?”