Zhou Weizhao successfully extracted a great deal of information through his questioning, among which was something Song Chuyi found utterly incomprehensible—why was Han Zhengqing so devoted to the elder Fan Liangdi?

She had previously vaguely suspected that the reason Han Zhengqing remained unmoved and continued to serve the Eastern Palace even after the elder Fan Liangdi had driven his wife and children to their deaths might be because Han Zhengqing and the elder Fan Liangdi shared an unusually close relationship.

But she never imagined the intimacy could reach such depths.

“Fan Liangdi certainly has impressive methods.” In the end, she merely let out a cold laugh and curled her lips: “Not only did she steal her younger sister’s chance to marry into the Eastern Palace, but she also refused to give up her childhood sweetheart, ultimately toying with both men.”

And this was far from all. Over these many years, the elder Fan Liangdi had truly treated the younger Fan Liangdi like a clay doll to be shaped at will. Hearing what Nanny Qi described, she couldn’t help but sigh for the younger Fan Liangdi.

How pitiful—from childhood, she never knew she wasn’t legitimate-born, raised at her legitimate mother’s knee, treating her elder sister with genuine sincerity. When her sister wanted to steal her spotlight, she obediently yielded, yet in the end, she was schemed into ruining her entire life.

“The Marquis’s first wife died—his first wife was the elder Miss’s close friend from her maiden days. She married the Marquis and died after just two years.” Nanny Qi’s words came out broken and halting, as if she too knew just how utterly unconscionable the elder Fan Liangdi’s actions were, speaking with some lack of confidence: “After she died, the Marquis’s mother pressured the Marquis to remarry. The Marquis went to ask the elder Miss, and the elder Miss refused.”

Song Chuyi truly couldn’t understand where people like Song Chuning and the elder Fan Liangdi found such profound resentment that they would casually demand others pay with their entire lives as the price.

Things they themselves didn’t want, yet they wouldn’t allow others to touch either.

Nanny Qi lay prostrate on the ground, covered in cold sweat: “Later, later the second Miss wanted to return home—because of the Crown Princess’s matter, the second Miss was still very heartbroken. The elder Miss treated her coldly, she was afraid, and begged me to send a letter back to Yingyang. But the master and mistress in Yingyang both told me to listen to the elder Miss. After the elder Miss found out, she had me take advantage of Marquis Jinxiang’s estate old madam’s birthday banquet and drugged the second Miss unconscious with a bowl of sleeping potion. From that point on, the second Miss became the wife of Marquis Jinxiang’s heir, and later became Madam of Marquis Jinxiang.”

What profound hatred could there be to use such inhumanly cruel methods to destroy one’s own biological sister’s entire life?

Nanny Qi’s voice grew weaker with less and less confidence: “Later, Madam of Marquis Jinxiang gave birth to a son and a daughter. The elder Miss doted on them greatly. The second Miss rarely saw them, and when she did see them more often, the heir would always develop some minor ailment. Sometimes these weren’t just minor ailments—twice he nearly died, and the elder Miss would call famous physicians and send him to Suzhou for recuperation.”

This woman’s heart was so viciously evil it reached such extremes—truly the Crown Prince and she were a family matched in wickedness.

Song Chuyi couldn’t bear to listen anymore and simply stopped hearing these details, cutting straight to the point: “Is Marquis Jinxiang so obsessed with Fan Liangdi that even when she killed his only legitimate son, he doesn’t care at all?”

As for the younger Fan Liangdi, in Han Zhengqing’s heart she was probably just a substitute. Talking about what feelings or affection—it was simply laughable.

Zhou Weizhao wrapped his arm around Song Chuyi’s shoulders and patted her soothingly.

Nanny Qi bit her lip and looked at Song Chuyi hesitantly. She hadn’t expected that the one who came here to interrogate her wasn’t Zhou Weizhao but the Grand Princess Consort. She knew a little about how formidable this Grand Princess Consort was, yet still wanted to bargain—Vice Minister Wang had been able to gain some benefits by selling information and turning traitor, exchanging his entire family’s lives. She too wanted to negotiate conditions.

Song Chuyi had already begun to smile. Her eyes seemed able to see through all of Nanny Qi’s thoughts as she smiled and shook her head: “Nanny, don’t try to negotiate conditions with me. That you can avoid severe torture and chat with me here is already me giving face. You’d best tell me everything I want to know. Otherwise, when the Yingyang Fan clan meets their end, your entire family won’t have a good outcome either. I mean what I say.”

Nanny Qi shuddered with a cold tremor. In her heart she thought Song Chuyi was scaremongering, yet didn’t dare confront her directly, so she could only resignedly continue: “Actually, actually, actually our elder Miss has been deceiving Marquis Jinxiang all along.”

Song Chuyi sensed that Nanny Qi was about to reach the crucial point. Her hands resting on her knees moved slightly as she accepted a cup of tea passed over by Qing Ying and took a sip.

“Marquis Jinxiang thinks, thinks Prince Dongping is his, his child.” This single sentence seemed to exhaust all of Nanny Qi’s strength, her voice inevitably dropping so low it was nearly inaudible.

Song Chuyi and Zhou Weizhao exchanged glances and raised their eyebrows.

She nearly laughed aloud: “On what basis does Han Zhengqing think this? Doesn’t he know that imperial bloodlines cannot be confused?”

A dignified marquis actually believed such ghost stories? This was truly enough to make one’s teeth fall out from laughing. Taking this tale to deceive ghosts, even ghosts probably wouldn’t believe it. Yet Han Zhengqing had actually been fooled by such lies for his entire life, even sacrificing his only legitimate son for this lie.

Truly incomparably foolish.

Zhou Weizhao raised his hand to interrupt her, somewhat puzzled: “But if that’s the case, why would Han Zhengqing present poisoned ginseng to Dongping? Since he thinks Dongping is his son, wouldn’t he fear that Dongping would be investigated and convicted for presenting poisoned ginseng?”

Nanny Qi wiped the cold sweat from her forehead and looked at Zhou Weizhao hesitantly before shaking her head: “By that time the Crown Prince would already be dead, and whatever Prince Gong says would be what goes.”

So that was their scheme—they even wanted Prince Dongping to change his name and surname and return to the Han family to take the Han surname?

This time even Zhou Weizhao couldn’t help but laugh aloud: “Truly absurd.” Both absurd and laughable—such matters, simply because the elder Fan Liangdi opened and closed her mouth, were accepted as truth.

Song Chuyi had Qing Zhuo take the person away. What she most wanted to know, she now knew. The reason that had always puzzled her was now clear. She sighed: “No wonder Han Zhengqing remained unmoved even knowing Han Zhi and the younger Fan Liangdi had died. So all along he thought he still had a son.”

Knowing this point, Song Chuyi hesitated: “Your Highness, perhaps His Majesty should know about this matter.”

If Han Zhengqing believed Prince Dongping was his son, and now he was preparing to accompany Prince Gong in rebellion, then what would he do? The answer was quite obvious—he definitely wouldn’t let his son remain in danger, especially with Cui Yingshu, the Imperial Commissioner, in Hubei.

Song Chuyi finally understood how this net was spreading toward them and preparing to catch them all in one swoop.