Consort Wu was stunned for a moment, then frowned: “What was written on the tablet?”

Looking at her hesitantly for a moment, Madam Tang said: “It read, ‘Consort Wu of the Wu clan, given name Qinlan, three months pregnant—the child shall be aborted, as payment for past karmic debts.'”

The Empress Dowager was shocked, and Consort Wu’s face turned even paler: “How could such a thing exist—did you bring it back with you?”

“How would I dare bring it back? I only asked around for a long while before learning that my lady’s given name is Qinlan, exactly matching what was on the wooden tablet. Combined with the two characters for ‘Noble Consort,’ only then did I dare come into the palace to speak of it,” Madam Tang said. “My lady’s given name—there shouldn’t be many people who know it.”

Hua Chun frowned, thinking to herself, who would be so bold as to curse the current Noble Consort at the City God Temple? Weren’t they afraid their handwriting would be recognized?

Then she heard Madam Tang continue: “This servant thinks that whoever did such a thing must be someone from within the palace. To know my lady’s given name, one would need to check the palace registry. My lady and the Empress Dowager could investigate—see who has checked the register of consorts, and you’ll know who’s suspicious.”

Hua Chun’s heart sank, and she glanced at Madam Tang.

She didn’t know whether others had checked the harem registry, but earlier when she’d entered the palace, she had indeed had Eunuch Qin bring the harem registry for her to look at. If they investigated this way, wouldn’t it sooner or later lead back to her?

She felt it should be a coincidence, but something about it felt off. Her second brother had said Madam Tang wasn’t his person, so this woman likely didn’t have much goodwill toward her. Should she be on guard?

“Empress Dowager.”

The hall had fallen silent when Yuejian returned from outside, followed by a monk who looked as if he had considerable spiritual attainment, and who seemed familiar somehow.

“This humble monk is Zhili, greeting the Empress Dowager.”

The moment she saw him, the Empress Dowager pressed her palms together, frowning: “Please, Master, take a look at Consort Wu—see if some unclean thing has startled the pregnancy.”

“Amitabha.” Zhili chanted a Buddhist verse with a solemn expression, then stepped forward.

Looking carefully, Hua Chun remembered—wasn’t this the fifty-something old monk the Emperor had previously summoned to read her physiognomy? He’d even said she would bear two children, and he didn’t seem very reliable, since he couldn’t even tell she was someone who’d crossed over, let alone that she was a woman. Could such an eminent monk really read fortunes and faces?

But this posture of his was certainly convincing.

Monk Zhili’s inner thoughts were also somewhat falling apart—he was a monk responsible for conducting rituals, so why did the imperial family always like to summon him for this mystical nonsense? But he had no choice but to look, and had to pretend he understood what he was seeing!

“The Noble Consort’s forehead shows some darkness,” he began fabricating after a while of looking. “This should be bad luck clinging to her. Performing a ritual should suffice.”

What he wanted to emphasize was performing the ritual, but upon hearing the words “bad luck clinging to her,” Consort Wu reacted as if her tail had been stepped on, immediately kneeling before the Empress Dowager.

“Did you hear that? I truly am being cursed by someone behind my back, bad luck clinging to me! Empress Dowager, even if not for my sake, then for the sake of the child in my belly—Consort De’s paper birds and the wooden tablet from the City God Temple, you must investigate this thoroughly!”

The Empress Dowager frowned, glanced at Hua Chun, and handed the paper cranes on the table to Zhili: “Master, please look—does the bad luck on Consort Wu have anything to do with these?”

Zhili paused, took them and looked them over carelessly, thinking to himself: if a Noble Consort wanted to frame a Consort De, and he helped speak for her, what if he offended Consort De? Either way he couldn’t really tell anything, so he might as well side with whoever had higher rank.

So he said: “These have nothing to do with it. These paper cranes are pure and delicate, carrying good wishes—they have nothing to do with bad luck.”

Hua Chun let out a breath of relief, knowing full well he was just guessing, but couldn’t help feeling grateful to him in her heart. This was pure luck—heaven wasn’t going to let her fall!

Consort Wu was stunned, frowning: “Are you certain, Master? Things folded from paper like this are all meant for the dead!”

“A monk does not tell lies,” Zhili said. “Things folded from paper aren’t necessarily all for the dead. These cranes are delicate—they can also be kept and admired.”

Consort Wu fell silent, and Madam Tang also frowned at the monk.

The Empress Dowager relaxed, smiling as she said to Consort Wu: “Then Consort De was wrongly blamed. The root of everything must lie with that wooden tablet. I will send people to investigate who exactly wrote that tablet, and give you justice.”

Glancing at Hua Chun, Consort Wu reluctantly agreed, and clutching her belly, let out another wail, frightening the Empress Dowager into quickly sending for the imperial physician, then seeing Monk Zhili out.

“How interesting indeed,” Hua Chun sneered, looking at Madam Tang. “A place like the City God Temple should have tablets covering several large trees—yet you happened to spot Consort Wu’s at a single glance.”

Madam Tang paused, pressing her lips: “It truly was quite a coincidence.”

The Empress Dowager waved her hand: “Consort De, you needn’t concern yourself with this matter. I will have people investigate. You focus on your pregnancy properly, and spare me some worry.”

“Yes,” Hua Chun agreed, retreating obediently.

“This servant saw how Consort Wu was acting—it was clearly aimed at you,” Rui’er said quietly, supporting her hand. “Fortunately Master Zhili saw through it. We narrowly escaped disaster this time—I just don’t know who was so fearless as to write such a tablet.”

“Plenty of people have been going out to visit family from the palace lately—anyone could have done it. As long as it doesn’t concern us, that’s fine,” Hua Chun yawned. “Let’s go back and rest. Hold on just a couple more days, and His Majesty should be back.”

“Yes,” Rui’er nodded, supporting her into the side hall and closing the door.

Madam Tang left Huiming Hall and went straight to Hua Xunyue’s place. The doors closed, and no one knew what was being discussed inside, only that not long after, Consort Shu also went in, followed by Consort Xu.

Rarely would this group of people, usually at odds with each other, gather together in one place today.

The people sent by the Empress Dowager quickly left the palace, went to the City God Temple, searched for a while, found the tablet, and then, using some method or other, swiftly captured the person who had carved the tablet.

“There’s news,” Rui’er ran in to tell Hua Chun. “That fearless person has been caught—it’s a married woman. The Empress Dowager is having her escorted into the palace for interrogation now.”

“So quickly?” Hua Chun raised an eyebrow, muttering: “That’s fast enough to seem like it was all arranged in advance.”

Rui’er chuckled softly: “Who cares about them? Let’s just sit back and watch the show.”

“That’s true,” Hua Chun nodded, rubbing her own legs, changing into a thicker padded jacket, preparing to head to the main hall to sit and wait for the person to be brought in.

For some reason, Consort Wu, after wailing for a long while, actually fainted, frightening the Empress Dowager into sitting motionless in the main hall, having Zhili conduct rituals outside as well to pray for blessings.

By the time Hua Chun arrived, it was already evening. The Empress Dowager hadn’t even eaten dinner, clutching her prayer beads and murmuring softly.

“How is Consort Wu?” she asked.

Aunt Yuejian beside her said quietly: “The imperial physician said it’s rather serious. They can’t find the cause, but there are signs of miscarriage.”

Miscarriage? Hua Chun was startled, immediately reaching to cradle her own belly.

Yuejian was amused by her reaction, smiling slightly, then said: “But with the imperial physician watching over her, there shouldn’t be major problems—she just needs to properly rest and recuperate.”

“Just resting is useless. Whoever is cursing my imperial grandchild behind my back, I will absolutely have their head!” The Empress Dowager opened her eyes, filled with fury. “How could anyone’s heart be so vicious!”

Hua Chun nodded—if someone truly had cursed her, then that person indeed ought to be caught and dealt with.

Just as she was thinking this, a palace attendant outside reported: “Empress Dowager, the person has been brought.”

“Bring her in!” A furious roar startled Hua Chun into stumbling, and Yuejian quickly steadied her to sit aside.

The palace attendant outside dragged in a married woman, looking rather disheveled, hair all in disarray, clearly having struggled quite a bit during her capture.

But that figure looked far too familiar.

“Empress Dowager, this humble woman has been wronged!” The loud voice rang throughout Huiming Hall. Hua Chun froze, looking at the face lifted up—her whole mind went “boom,” instantly blank.

It was actually Wan Shi?!

The Empress Dowager also paused, finding her somewhat familiar: “You?”

“This humble woman is Prime Minister Hua’s birth mother,” Wan Shi said quickly. “These people arrested me without any explanation—I truly don’t know what crime I’ve committed!”

Taking a deep breath, Hua Chun forced herself to control the urge to stand up, saying with a low laugh: “Could it not be a case of mistaken identity?”

The Empress Dowager was also somewhat puzzled, looking toward the guard nearby. The guard cupped his hands: “Your subordinates have already questioned the witnesses at the City God Temple, and compared the handwriting—it truly is this madam who wrote the wooden tablet. Please, Empress Dowager, take a look.”