As they exited the palace, the night was beautiful, with a distant view of brilliant lanterns. While usually, only the Golden Water River area was alive with music and dance until dawn, on the Lantern Festival, the entire city was alight with festivity – a day of celebration for the capital’s residents.

Even the incident at Xuande Tower didn’t dampen the spirits of people enjoying the lantern shows, solving riddles, or young couples out together.

Yu Jin, holding Jiang Si’s hand as they walked, asked, “Want to look around some more?”

Jiang Si gave him a strange look. “You’re still in the mood for the festival? Let’s go home. A huan might still be awake.”

Yu Jin expressed disappointment. “But I haven’t solved that lantern riddle yet.”

Jiang Si smiled gently. “I figured it out.”

“What is it?”

They had been solving riddles when the incident at Xuande Tower occurred. The riddle was “What fears not the bitter cold of midwinter?” It had Yu Jin scratching his head in frustration.

It was a beautiful jade rabbit lantern, which could be taken home if solved – perfect for pleasing either wife or daughter.

While Yu Jin excelled in martial arts, he was slightly less adept at scholarly pursuits. As he put it, being good at everything would leave no room for others – like that Xiangrui fellow.

Jiang Si gazed towards the Imperial Street and softly uttered two words: “Winter jasmine.”

Yu Jin clapped his hands, as if suddenly enlightened. “That’s right! How did I not think of that?”

Jiang Si glanced at him. “You say that as if you could have thought of it afterward.”

Yu Jin paused, looked around to ensure they were alone save for the distant palace guards, and then quickly pinched Jiang Si’s cheek, feigning fierceness. “Tell me, are you looking down on my lack of book learning?”

Jiang Si feigned shock. “You figured that out too?”

Laughing together, they boarded their carriage, which slowly made its way back to Prince Yan’s mansion.

Upon returning home, they found Ahuan still awake. She reached out to Jiang Si, seeking comfort, and finally fell asleep in her mother’s arms while listening to a lullaby.

Yu Jin thought to himself, “It’s over. This little rice cake will be inseparable from us next year.”

Back in their chambers, Yu Jin finally voiced his curiosity about the palace events. “Jiang Si, did you dream that Princess Fuqing would be in danger tonight?”

“I only dreamed something would happen at the Lantern Festival. I didn’t know if it would be tonight specifically.”

Yu Jin was silent for a moment, then said, “You didn’t mention it before.”

“It was just a fragmented dream. I never imagined it would come true. I was also worried that if you knew in advance, you might act differently and raise Father’s suspicions, so I didn’t say anything,” Jiang Si explained.

“It’s incredible that a dream could come true like this…” Yu Jin marveled, not pursuing the matter further.

Seeing Yu Jin’s brief response, Jiang Si felt slightly uneasy. “Ajin, don’t you find it strange?”

Yu Jin smiled slightly. “Of course it’s unusual, but that’s all. Should we stop living our lives just because my wife has prophetic dreams?”

“Prophetic dreams?” Jiang Si was surprised. “I wouldn’t call them that. There’s nothing good in those dreams—”

Indeed, her memories of her past life held no joy, each one a heart-wrenching regret.

Yu Jin laughed. “You received a warning in your dream, allowing us to avoid misfortune. If that’s not a good dream, what is? Others would envy such ability.”

Jiang Si might have her secrets, but that didn’t matter to him. What mattered was that his dream had come true – he had Jiang Si as his wife.

Hearing Yu Jin’s words, Jiang Si felt relieved. She smiled, “You always have a way of twisting things.”

Yu Jin lowered the bed curtains. “Fuqing’s close call has given us a good opportunity.”

“What do you mean?” Jiang Si didn’t immediately understand.

Yu Jin embraced her. “Remember what I said before? To become Crown Prince, working through the Empress is the most efficient way. Now we have that chance.”

“Tell me more.”

The bed curtains blocked out the moonlight from the window, also muffling their whispered conversation.

Two days passed. The Empress, having received no updates from Emperor Jingming about Princess Fuqing’s Lantern Festival incident, grew increasingly worried. She felt especially uneasy seeing her daughter still visiting the Empress Dowager in Cining Palace daily.

For the Empress, each day that passed without the culprit being caught left her heart in constant turmoil.

The Empress was walking in the garden with only one palace maid, gradually reaching a deep plum grove.

Layers of fallen plum blossoms carpeted the ground, muffling their footsteps.

Lost in thought, the Empress walked silently, her maid not daring to make a sound.

Suddenly, low voices carried through the trees and flowers.

The Empress halted, instinctively listening.

“Have you heard? Qingdai’s fall from Xuande Tower on the Lantern Festival wasn’t an accident. She jumped to her death.”

A gasp followed. “Wasn’t she Princess Fuqing’s maid? Why would she suddenly commit suicide?”

“They say she tried to harm Princess Fuqing. After failing, she jumped…”

“No wonder all those serving Princess Fuqing disappeared after the Lantern Festival. So that’s why.”

The Empress listened impassively, anger flashing in her eyes.

Naturally, after the incident with Princess Fuqing’s maid, the Empress had taken no chances. She had replaced almost all the staff in Princess Fuqing’s quarters, with most of the missing servants now undergoing interrogation in secret prisons.

This had caused quite a stir, leaving the palace in a state of unease.

Many palace servants knew about Princess Fuqing’s close call on the Lantern Festival; it was impossible to keep secret. The Empress was furious that servants dared to discuss the matter privately, a major taboo in the palace.

However, gossip is inevitable wherever people gather. It’s impossible to completely suppress such talk.

The Empress, her face stern, was about to reprimand them.

As Empress, eavesdropping was beneath her dignity. She had simply been caught off guard at first.

But before she could speak, one of the voices continued: “I can’t believe someone dared to harm the legitimate princess. It’s good that the Empress replaced all of Princess Fuqing’s attendants.”

The other sighed, “What use is the Empress’s protection? In the future, who knows…”

The Empress’s face flushed with anger. She glanced at her maid.

Understanding immediately, the maid called out sternly, “Who’s gossiping? Show yourselves at once!”

The foliage rustled, followed by the sound of hurried footsteps retreating into the distance.

The maid pushed through the bushes, only catching a glimpse of two figures fleeing in panic.

The Empress also approached, her face as cold as ice.

The fleeing individuals wore ordinary palace servant attire, making them nearly impossible to identify.

“Your Majesty—”

The Empress returned to her chambers, a lump of anger stuck in her chest.

With Princess Fuqing facing repeated dangers, such private discussions in the palace were not surprising. Rather than being angry at the overheard gossip, the Empress felt fear.

She worried about who would truly protect her pure and kind-hearted daughter when she was no longer around.

A thought that had briefly crossed the Empress’s mind earlier began to crystallize: What if she had a son?

As the Empress, given the Emperor’s emphasis on legitimacy, her son would be the rightful heir. When he became the ruler of the land, wouldn’t he ensure Fuqing’s safety?