Ji Lan continued: “You can know someone’s face but not their heart. That Madam Zhou appears well-off, but who knew she’d have sticky fingers, stealing from her sister.”

Han Yan shook her head: “Not necessarily.”

Was it theft? More likely she was searching for something.

Like finally finding an answer to a long-unsolved puzzle, Elder Madam Zhou’s sudden visit and prolonged stay finally had a reasonable explanation. If she stayed at the Zhuang Manor to search for something, what could that item be? It seemed Grand Tutor Zhang knew about this, which was why he allowed her to stay here—perhaps he had even instructed her to do so.

Grand Tutor Zhang appeared to be one of the Seventh Prince’s supporters.

Ji Lan hadn’t heard Han Yan’s words and continued: “I heard she’s been improper with the master too. Shameless! She’s already someone else’s concubine, yet still thinking about having an affair.”

Han Yan’s mind stirred, growing more convinced of her theory. Perhaps Elder Madam Zhou hadn’t found what she wanted in Madam Zhou’s possession, so she started approaching Zhuang Shiyang.

“Young Miss…” Seeing her lost in thought, Ji Lan quickly called out: “Young Miss?”

Han Yan smiled, though her eyes grew serious.

She remembered that Elder Madam Zhou had been the instigator in the plot with Zhang Wei against her. Very well—it would be a waste of her second chance at life if she didn’t repay this debt.

“Ji Lan,” Han Yan said with a smile, “go arrange something with the master’s servants and maids. Have them watch every movement between Madam Zhou and the master.”

Ji Lan was startled: “Young Miss, surely you’re not planning to argue with the master about this? In this servant’s opinion, as long as Madam Zhou remains Grand Tutor Zhang’s concubine, she can’t openly enter the Zhuang Manor. Why not just turn a blind eye to this? Otherwise, you’ll only upset the master.”

“Who said I was going to argue with Father?” Han Yan calmly turned the pages of the book on her table. “I’m merely trying to facilitate something good.”

Ji Lan wanted to say more, but Shu Hong hurriedly entered from outside, closed the door behind her, and shut the windows. They rarely saw Shu Hong so flustered, and their faces showed surprise. Shu Hong checked outside the window once more before quickly walking to Han Yan and speaking in a low voice: “Young Miss, something terrible has happened!”

Han Yan looked at her and said calmly: “Speak slowly, it’s fine.”

Shu Hong caught her breath: “Prince Wei and the master are discussing in the main hall. They’ve decided to marry the Second Miss to the Crown Prince as his Secondary Consort. She’ll enter the manor next month.”

Ji Lan exclaimed in shock: “How is that possible? How did she end up becoming a Secondary Consort?”

Han Yan frowned: “Then what’s the terrible thing you mentioned?”

Shu Hong bit her lip, looking worriedly at Han Yan: “The Crown Prince made a condition—before the Secondary Consort enters the manor, he wants to settle the betrothal with Young Miss. As soon as Young Miss comes of age next year, the wedding will take place immediately!”

Marry Wei Rufeng!

The book in Han Yan’s hands fell to the ground with a “thud,” though her expression remained unchanged.

Ji Lan was also stunned. They had always been close to Han Yan and naturally understood her attitude toward Wei Rufeng had always been one of respectful distance. At first, they didn’t understand why their Young Miss was so indifferent, even somewhat averse, to this young man whom all the capital’s young ladies pursued. Later, as they grew closer, they gradually saw that Wei Rufeng was different from the rumors. The maids had been present during several conversations between him and Han Yan, and they too felt Wei Rufeng wasn’t a good match. Apart from Han Yan’s dislike of Wei Rufeng, this marriage arrangement itself seemed like a transaction to get Zhuang Yushan into the Wei Prince Manor.

Han Yan smiled: “I’m fine. You two go attend to your duties.”

Though Ji Lan and Shu Hong were still worried, seeing Han Yan’s composed demeanor, they said nothing and quietly left the room.

Han Yan sat alone in the room, saying nothing. But her heart was as tumultuous as a stormy sea.

In this life, after all the twists and turns, was she still unable to avoid getting entangled with Wei Rufeng?

She could run away, far from it all. But under heaven, all land belonged to the emperor—could she truly escape the grasp of both the Wei and Zhuang families? Even if she managed to escape by luck, living a life of constant fear, what about young Ming’er whom she would leave behind? She couldn’t bear to have him live a fugitive’s life with her, nor could she leave him in the manor to face those with ulterior motives. This path seemed blocked.

For all her calculations, she hadn’t anticipated Wei Rufeng’s attitude in this matter. The Zhou sisters would certainly do everything possible to complete this marriage, and she had no way to prevent it.

Should she just resign herself to fate?

No!

The plum blossom thorn suddenly fell from her chest. Han Yan gripped it in her hand, examining it carefully, remembering his low whisper in her ear: “If you encounter any difficulties, come to Prince Xuanqing’s Manor to find me.”

If there are difficulties… if there are difficulties…

Han Yan suddenly stood up. Had he anticipated this development?

Sitting back in her wooden chair, Han Yan thought for a long while before suddenly pulling over the letter paper from the table and beginning to write.

From day to night, Han Yan hadn’t left her room. Ji Lan and Shu Hong stood guard outside, their hearts full of worry. When the moon hung deep in the night sky, the inner room’s door opened, and Han Yan stood in the doorway, smiling at them: “I’m hungry.”

Shu Hong hurried to the small kitchen to prepare food. Han Yan walked to Ji Lan’s side and slipped a letter into her sleeve.

“Young Miss…” Ji Lan’s expression changed.

Han Yan spoke softly: “Find a way to deliver this letter to Prince Xuanqing’s Manor.”

Ji Lan nodded in agreement. As Han Yan watched her silhouette disappear into the night, her gaze grew solemn.

She had done what she could. Now the outcome depended on Fu Yunxi.

At Prince Xuanqing’s Manor.

Cheng Lei listlessly flipped through the military book in his hands: “Been back in the capital too long. His Majesty won’t let me go to war, and the Western Rong keeps making small moves. Life is so dull.”

Fu Yunxi sat at his desk, documents piled high: “How long do you plan to stay here?”

Hearing his words, Cheng Lei, who had been lounging, immediately sat up straight: “Hey, you’re not trying to drive me away, are you? You know what the General’s Manor is like—I don’t want to go back.”

Fu Yunxi remained unmoved: “You spend all day at Prince Xuanqing’s Manor. Aren’t you afraid of gossip?”

Cheng Lei thought for a moment, then smiled mischievously: “What’s there to fear? You already have a reputation for preferring men. At worst, they’ll spread rumors about our relationship. Wouldn’t that help you avoid your royal brother’s constant worry about your marriage?” He paused, suddenly thinking of something, and waved his hands repeatedly: “No, no—if His Majesty learns about anything between us, he’ll certainly punish me severely. That won’t do at all.”

Fu Yunxi let out a snort of laughter but said nothing. Just then, a servant reported from outside: “Your Highness, there’s a young lady outside who gave this servant a letter, saying it’s for Your Highness.”

Fu Yunxi, hearing this, lowered his head in thought for a moment before taking the letter from the servant’s hand and opening it.