“Staying at Minister Kou’s residence—” Qiao Zhao murmured.

As she had guessed, if elder brother came to the capital, he would certainly seek out their maternal grandfather.

She wondered if elder brother had already received news of her death.

“Today, Minister Kou petitioned the throne to thoroughly investigate whether the fire at the Qiao family was a natural disaster or a man-made calamity. His Majesty has already appointed an imperial commissioner to go to Jia Feng to investigate.” Seeing his daughter listening attentively, Li Guangwen was pleased to say more.

“Which official was appointed as imperial commissioner?” Qiao Zhao asked impulsively.

Li Guangwen smiled: “It’s your eldest uncle from the East Residence.”

Qiao Zhao’s arms instantly broke out in goosebumps.

It was reasonable for His Majesty to appoint a Ministry of Justice official as imperial commissioner to investigate the Qiao family fire, and the eldest uncle from the East Residence, Li Guangyan, currently served as Assistant Minister of Justice—exactly Maternal Grandfather’s subordinate.

She had changed from Miss Qiao to Miss Li, and now her current relatives were responsible for investigating her former identity’s affairs. Such a coincidence could only be called fate.

“Zhao Zhao, why are you crying?” After finishing his account, Li Guangwen was startled to notice tears glimmering in his second daughter’s eyes.

Unable to explain the real reason, Qiao Zhao could only say: “Father spoke so well, I was moved.”

Li Guangwen’s heart trembled.

To be moved so easily—apparently, his second daughter’s requirements were so low!

He suddenly felt somewhat ashamed of his cold treatment toward his second daughter over the years, almost patting his chest in guarantee: “Zhao Zhao, if you want to hear more stories in the future, just come find Father.”

Qiao Zhao’s eyes brightened, her voice naturally soft and sweet: “Wonderful! Thank you, Father!”

As Li Guangwen walked out carrying the inkstone in high spirits, he couldn’t help pondering: Who would have thought he had a talent for storytelling!

After the room quieted down, Qiao Zhao went to the west side room.

The west side room was arranged as a study, complete with the four treasures of the study, and by the window sat an ancient qin that had gathered dust.

She picked up a stack of papers placed on the writing desk. The handwriting was elegant and upright, exceptionally neat and beautiful—it was a partially copied Buddhist scripture.

After glancing at it, Qiao Zhao instructed A’Zhu: “Go fetch a fire basin.”

Binglu spoke quickly: “Miss, A’Zhu just arrived and doesn’t know where the fire basin is stored. Let this servant fetch it instead.”

Seeing her mistress nod, Binglu glanced at A’Zhu and went out cheerfully.

Qiao Zhao didn’t mind.

Where there were people, there would be disputes. As long as necessary boundaries were maintained, it was harmless.

Soon Binglu brought a fire basin, smiling broadly: “Shuanghong put it away earlier—I almost forgot where it was placed.”

A’Zhu silently went to the east alcove and returned with a candlestick.

Binglu pursed her lips: “What are you doing with that in broad daylight?”

A’Zhu looked honest and simple: “Miss needs it.”

“Miss—” Binglu turned to look at Qiao Zhao.

Qiao Zhao was quite surprised by A’Zhu’s attentiveness and smiled: “I do indeed need it.”

It was spring now—if she needed the fire basin, she would certainly need candlelight too.

Upon hearing this, Binglu glared at A’Zhu with suspicion.

This outsider was too calculating—annoying!

A’Zhu calmly looked away.

Qiao Zhao lit the candle and brought the stack of papers to the flame.

Binglu was shocked and rushed to rescue them: “Oh my, Miss, what are you doing?”

But the flame was too fierce. The stack of papers caught fire instantly. Qiao Zhao casually threw them into the fire basin, where they quickly burned to ash.

Binglu felt heartbroken: “Miss, why did you burn the Buddhist scriptures you worked so hard to copy?”

“I wasn’t satisfied with the writing.” Qiao Zhao explained gently.

Binglu opened her eyes in disbelief: “You weren’t satisfied with this? Miss, this servant thinks you wrote extremely well.”

She thought for a moment and added: “Even better than Master’s calligraphy!”

“Being merely attractive isn’t enough.” Qiao Zhao watched coldly as not even sparks remained in the fire basin, only a pile of ashes, before instructing the two maids: “Tidy up and then leave. I’ll copy some Buddhist scriptures here.”

“Yes.”

The two maids cleaned the study and withdrew. Qiao Zhao spread paper and ground ink, lost in thought for a while, then picked up her brush and began writing.

Elegant and flowing characters bloomed like brilliant flowers under her brush, one by one—a completely different calligraphy style from the Buddhist scripture that had been burned.

After an unknown amount of time, Qiao Zhao set down her brush. Her gaze fell on the paper, her expression dazed.

This writing greatly resembled Grandfather’s hand. This way, regardless of any obstacles, she would certainly get her wish to meet that eldest princess.

The streets were bustling with noise, but the private room in the riverside Wufu Teahouse was quite peaceful.

Chi Can ordered a pot of tea and sat by the window, pouring and drinking alone.

Soon, footsteps sounded in the corridor. A moment later, Yang Houcheng pushed open the door and sat down casually across from Chi Can, reaching for the teapot to pour himself a cup, which he drained in one gulp.

“Guzzling like an ox!” Chi Can sneered.

Yang Houcheng paid no attention, setting down the teacup with a sigh: “Didn’t catch that fellow surnamed Shao again—he left early this morning.”

Upon hearing this, Chi Can became displeased, his face tense: “Such a busy, important person indeed.”

Yang Houcheng secretly laughed—Young Master Chi was angry at not being able to meet his friend.

Not wanting to see his friend lose his temper, he quickly explained: “Exactly! I asked the Marquis’ residence servants—they said he went to receive his deceased wife’s coffin. This trip might take several days. Hmph, leaving just like that without even sending us word!”

“Mm… that’s also proper business.” Upon hearing the reason, Chi Can spoke awkwardly.

“Right, that’s what I thought too. By the way, where’s Zi Zhe?”

At this mention, Chi Can smiled: “Today is his sister’s birthday—he has to stay at the residence to entertain his cousins.”

Yang Houcheng winked: “I think you mean female cousins.”

The three were friends who had played together since childhood, so naturally they knew Fifth Young Master Zhu’s troubles—that cousin from Earl Guchang’s residence had always pursued Zhu Yan persistently.

Thinking of Zhu Yan’s current predicament, the two mischievous friends showed no sympathy, chatting leisurely over tea before parting ways.

As soon as Chi Can returned to the Eldest Princess Changrong’s residence, the young servant Taosheng reported: “Young Master, Aunt Dongyu sent word that the Eldest Princess requests your presence in the study.”

“Understood.”

Chi Can changed into casual clothes before unhurriedly going to the study.

“What does Mother summon your son for?” After speaking, his gaze moved downward to the painting spread on the writing desk before the Eldest Princess.

The Eldest Princess Changrong extended her finger to gently tap the painting before her.

Her fingers were long and full, painted with bright red nail lacquer, making Chi Can’s heart feel irritated.

The Eldest Princess Changrong’s gaze slowly fell on her son’s face, taking in his expression of forced patience completely, and instead smiled pleasantly: “Can’er, so you weren’t lying that day—this painting truly was copied by someone else.”

Chi Can showed a surprised expression.

That day when he spoke those words in anger, Mother hadn’t believed him. Why today—

The Eldest Princess Changrong’s finger lightly tapped the scroll: “It’s the paper the painting was done on.”

Chi Can instantly understand.

Yes, the Duck Frolic was Master Qiao’s early work. If it were authentic, no matter how much the collector treasured it, the paper wouldn’t be so new.

The Eldest Princess Changrong spoke again: “I’m very curious—who copied this painting?”