Zhijin Garden lay in silence, with gentle breezes carrying the lush green of banana leaves and irises.

Wei Baoheng’s gaze slowly fell on Huang Zixia as he said, “Lord Yang since you were ordered to investigate the residence, have you discovered that this exquisitely beautiful, unparalleled Princess’s mansion conceals many frightening secrets unknown to others?”

Huang Zixia slightly furrowed her brows, quickly reviewing in her mind everything she had witnessed in the Princess’s residence over the past days.

“Originally, I risked injury just wanting to make this incident big enough to warrant official investigation, to find out why Doukou died, to pull down that person who was about to reach the highest point of Daming Palace… but I never expected things to develop like this, that the Princess… would also leave me.”

Huang Zixia couldn’t help but ask, “Did you know about the relationship between Dicui and Doukou?”

“I didn’t at first. When I heard that the Princess became unwell upon seeing her, I met her a few times while trying to calm that situation. Only later did I learn that she was Doukou’s niece. They only shared three or four parts of similarity in their features, but seeing her always reminded me of Doukou.” Wei Baoheng lowered his eyes and said with difficulty, “I also knew she wanted to kill Sun Laizi, so I secretly followed her, hoping to help if necessary… I just didn’t expect you all to discover this. I had thought that if possible, I could help her kill Sun Laizi, just because she was Doukou’s niece, just because… she looked three parts like Doukou…”

Huang Zixia silently sighed in her heart and said nothing more.

Wei Baoheng bowed distractedly to Li Shubai, saying, “Now, both the Princess and Doukou are dead, and even the truth seems unimportant… If Prince Kui and Lord Yang have questions, feel free to investigate the residence. Now, I must go keep vigil for the Princess, otherwise, if the Emperor learns I wasn’t fully devoted, he will surely be furious.”

Li Shubai nodded slightly, indicating he could leave.

As he straightened up, he added in an almost inaudible whisper: “When the Princess was sealing the garden gate, I… accidentally kicked something under the corridor pillar in the pavilion.”

Both Huang Zixia and Li Shubai heard his words, but he acted as if he had only been talking to himself and turned to leave.

The Princess’s residence’s secrets.

Frightening secrets unknown to others.

After Wei Baoheng left, Li Shubai and Huang Zixia walked slowly along the waterside corridor of Zhijin Garden to the central pavilion.

Among the banana leaves, the small window cast a green shade. In the garden hastily sealed by the Princess, everything was covered with a thin layer of dust.

While Li Shubai stood with his hands behind his back looking at the green grass by the pond outside the pavilion, Huang Zixia knelt to carefully examine each corridor pillar. Only when she reached the pillar forming an angle with the door and corridor did she find a small grey bundle in the dark corner.

Under the dust cover, hardly anyone would have noticed it without such careful searching.

When she reached for it, it felt slightly soft – a paper ball under the dust. She slowly unfolded it to find two unfinished lines of poetry on a small piece of note paper:

Life follows life without end through the ages,

While year after year the river moon stays the same.

The final stroke of the character “same” remained unfinished, the writer having stopped mid-stroke. The crumpled white paper, scattered with dust, made the line of characters appear somewhat blurred and indistinct.

Something flashed before Huang Zixia’s eyes – those few characters that had briefly appeared and disappeared on that piece of paper ash that had been burned with Zhou Ziqin’s help.

Perhaps because of that ethereal, blurred feeling, the line before her eyes and the burned line seemed almost identical to her.

“This isn’t Tongchang’s handwriting,” Li Shubai said definitively as he looked at the two lines, “Every year on the Emperor’s birthday, when Tongchang prepared gifts for the Emperor, she would personally write birthday wishes. I’ve seen them.”

Huang Zixia gently lifted a corner of the paper, blowing away the dust.

The graceful handwriting came from a woman’s hand, with a sense of rustiness from long disuse, evidently showing the writer’s hesitant, lingering state of mind at the time.

Li Shubai turned to walk out: “Let’s go. If there’s anything else you want to know, you need to ask the household staff now.”

As one of the Princess’s maids, Chuizhu had been kneeling before the Princess’s spirit tablet since the incident, fainting several times from crying, only to wake up and continue weeping. When Huang Zixia approached, her eyes were so swollen she could no longer produce tears, and she just knelt there in a daze.

Huang Zixia knelt beside Chuizhu, burned incense, and paid respects to Princess Tongchang, then looked at her wrist.

Wearing mourning clothes, her left wrist was exposed below the sleeve, showing an uneven burn scar from wrist to elbow, indicating the severity of the injury at the time.

Huang Zixia asked softly, “Miss Chuizhu, what happened to cause this scar on your hand?”

Chuizhu silently pulled her sleeve to hide her scar, lowering her head without speaking.

Luopei, kneeling nearby, said tearfully, “This happened several years ago when the Princess was curious about playing with fire and almost got caught by the flames. Chuizhu was burned while saving the Princess.”

Though Luopei and Zuiyu, Qingbi, and others also had tear-stained faces, they were in much better spirits compared to the red-eyed Chuizhu. Other maids nearby chimed in, “Yes, Chuizhu is truly loyal to the Princess, even the Emperor has praised her for it.”

Huang Zixia asked casually, “Speaking of this reminds me, the other day a man named Qian claimed his daughter had a birthmark on her wrist and was in the Princess’s residence. Have any of you seen such a person?”

Chuizhu silently shook her head, and everyone else said, “We heard about that too, but we haven’t seen anyone with a birthmark on their wrist in the residence.”

Qingbi pursed her lips and said, “They must be trying to claim relations again. Who in the capital doesn’t want to have some connection to our Princess’s residence? Having family working here is enough for them to brag about for quite a while.”

“Qingbi,” Chuizhu called softly. Qingbi reluctantly closed her mouth, saying, “I didn’t say anything wrong… oh right… Prince Kui’s residence is fine too.”

It seemed Chuizhu held the highest position among the Princess’s maids, no wonder the Princess said she was the most capable among her attendants.

Chuizhu remained silent, using her sleeve to cover her arm, still kneeling quietly there, her head bowed so low it clearly indicated her unwillingness to speak.

But Huang Zixia still asked, “Miss Chuizhu, I’d like to ask about your usual relationship with Wei Ximin?”

Chuizhu said softly, “We served the Princess together and were quite familiar, but there was nothing beyond that, after all, too much interaction between maids and eunuchs would… invite gossip.”

This reminded Huang Zixia of something else, and she asked, “I heard the Princess arranged a marriage for you, and you’re to be wed soon?”

Chuizhu nodded silently but then shook her head: “It was originally set for the latter half of the year. Though the family isn’t from nobility, he works at the Court of State Ceremonial, a proper official family. Without the Princess, I could never have married into such a good family. But now… it seems hopeless.”

Huang Zixia understood that the other party had originally agreed because of the Princess’s power – after all, even a seventh-rank official could be found before a prime minister’s door, and a maid from Princess Tongchang’s household, once freed from slave status and with her former master’s support, would be considered a decent match. But now that the Princess was dead, how could a mere maid expect the other party to honor their promise and come to marry her? Even Chuizhu herself probably didn’t know what lay ahead for her now.

Huang Zixia consoled her, “I think an official family would surely honor their promise and wouldn’t break it because of this.”

“Thank you for your kind words, Lord Yang.” Though she said this, her brow remained furrowed.

Qingbi sighed nearby, “If it weren’t for Lord Yang speaking up for us, we might have all followed the Princess by now. Being able to live is already heaven’s grace; as for other things, who knows if we’ll have such fortune…”

Qingbi was still young and naive; her words made both Chuizhu and Zuiyu’s faces grow darker, surely adding more weight to the heavy burden already in their hearts.

Luopei stared blankly at the rising smoke from the incense burner, saying in confusion, “But… but what can we do? After the Princess had that dream, she kept saying Consort Pan Shu was coming to take her Nine Phoenix Hairpin, and the hairpin… just vanished from the heavily guarded storehouse like that. Isn’t it strange? The Princess herself locked it away, and we put the box in the chest, took it out ourselves, how could it vanish… and finally appear in Pingkang Ward to stab the Princess to death?”

Qingbi cried in both sorrow and fear, “Luopei, stop talking… please stop…”

Their voices were drowned in the surrounding chanting and crying, disappearing as silently as the Nine Phoenix Hairpin had from its locked container.

Huang Zixia could only sigh inwardly, bow to them in farewell, and walk out.

With the Princess’s death, the residence was in chaos.

In comparison, the people brought by the Prince Consort were relatively calm. After all, they had somewhere to return to.

So when Huang Zixia arrived at the kitchen, Cook Changpu was still sitting there, planning the next day’s meals, though her face was clouded with worry.

“Lord Yang,” she saw Huang Zixia arrive and self-deprecatingly patted the register in her hand, saying, “No matter what, there are still so many people in the residence who need to eat, right?”

Huang Zixia gestured for her to continue, then sat down across from her, saying, “I just want to ask you a few questions.”

“Please ask, Lord Yang.” She continued clicking her abacus, head down comparing items on the register, lips tightly pressed.

“Qian Guansuo has been detained by the Court of Judicial Review. Did you know that?”

Changpu’s hand paused briefly, and then she said softly, “Yes, I know. Last night, he came to ask me about his daughter and was discovered by the Court’s people. I watched him being taken away.”

“I heard he kept claiming his daughter was in the Princess’s residence and even produced a golden toad, but no trace of his daughter could be found here.” Huang Zixia stared at her, not missing the slightest expression on Changpu’s face, “I remember you once told me that Master Qian’s daughter was Chuizhu.”

But Changpu remained completely composed, not even moving an eyebrow, still unhurriedly working her abacus: “Yes, when I found out last night, I was quite shocked too. It turns out Chuizhu isn’t his daughter after all. His daughter has a birthmark on her wrist, not a scar. I had been mistaken all along.”

Huang Zixia looked at her, slightly frowning as she asked, “So you were mistaken?”

“Yes, initially because Master Qian said his daughter had a mark on her wrist. I noticed Chuizhu had a mark on her hand and thought it must be her, so I mentioned it. As for whether Chuizhu met with him later, I don’t know—you know I stay in the kitchen all day and am very busy, how would I have time to inquire about such things? Later when Master Qian brought Lingxiang incense to thank me, I thought to myself, it must be Chuizhu indeed.” At this point, Changpu finally sighed, placing her hand on the abacus and saying distractedly, “But when he was caught and questioned by the Court, he said his daughter had a bluish-grey birthmark on her hand, and after searching the entire Princess’s residence, they found nothing. I later secretly asked Chuizhu, and she swore it wasn’t her, and the Princess’s other maids all said Chuizhu never went to meet Master Qian privately… isn’t this strange? Did Master Qian find his daughter or not? Who did he meet in secret? Could it be as the Court says, that he was just using the search for his daughter as an excuse, actually colluding with Wei Ximin to steal from the Princess’s residence?”

Huang Zixia observed her expression and asked, “So, you know nothing about this matter and have no connection to it at all?”

“Of course not! Otherwise… could it be that Lord Yang suspects me?” Changpu pressed her chest, looking at her in shock, somewhat anxious, “Lord Yang! I’ve never even been to where the Princess lived! I’ve never seen that Nine Phoenix Hairpin or golden toad! Even the Princess, though I’m from the royal residence, I’m just kitchen staff, I rarely even see the Princess…”

“Yes, I believe you. I believe you have no connection to this case, I believe in your innocence.” Huang Zixia gazed at her, eyes blazing as if they could pierce through to her heart, “However, what I don’t believe is that you don’t know who Qian Guansuo met with.”

“I don’t know! I don’t know!” Changpu cried out in panic.

Huang Zixia said nothing, just watching her reaction meaningfully.

Under such scrutiny, Changpu finally broke down. She collapsed onto the low stool, holding her head in her hands, muttering, “I can’t say… I really can’t say…”

Her expression showed not only panic and confusion but also such determination and resolution, as if even if she died, even if she were torn to pieces, she would take this secret to her grave.

Knowing she probably couldn’t pry open her mouth, Huang Zixia sighed lightly and said, “It doesn’t matter, I already know who the daughter is.”

Seeing her stand up and walk out the door without hesitation, Changpu couldn’t help herself. She stood up, stumbling to the doorway, and holding onto the doorframe asked, “You… you know who it is?”

“What do you think?” Huang Zixia turned back to smile at Changpu, the summer sunlight casting intense shadows around her, making her features appear somewhat ethereal.

And her voice was calm and firm, carrying an unquestionable force—

“In this Princess’s residence, who else could it be?”