Cheng Chang was taken aback for a moment, realizing she meant Yun Xi, and said, “Mother is mistaken. This has nothing to do with Constable Yun.”

It was simply that he had no interest whatsoever in that Miss Lin.

The princess consort, however, wasn’t entirely convinced.

The earring had been her own idea—she’d instructed Lin Ruonan to slip it into the box, specifically to test Cheng Chang’s true feelings.

On the day Cheng Chang had fallen into the water, she and the prince had not been in Jinling. Since returning, she’d felt her son had become somewhat different from before.

At first, she’d been pleased by the change. But as time went on, her pleasure had gradually turned to disappointment.

The old Cheng Chang, for all his mischief, had at least always been close to her. The Cheng Chang after his fall into the water was dutiful and courteous, but distant—as though there were always some untouchable distance between him and everyone else. The moment you stepped closer, he would quietly step back, without a word.

The princess consort could only console herself that Chang’er had simply grown up, become more mature.

Which was, all things considered, for the best.

He’d come of age this year. In the past, whenever a match was suggested for him, no family had dared marry a daughter into it. Now that he’d turned over a new leaf and hadn’t even set foot on a pleasure boat in ages, the matter of his marriage could finally be seriously taken up.

After much deliberation, she’d settled on the Lin family—good looks, a gentle temperament, family ties already in place, everyone’s background well known. And the prince had said that Mingying’s future primary wife shouldn’t come from too illustrious a family—Lord Lin, a fifth-rank official, was just about right.

Over the course of several meetings, she had watched Lin Ruonan go from initial reluctance to compliance, and finally to genuine affection—yet Cheng Chang had remained utterly unmoved throughout.

The princess consort grew increasingly suspicious, and after months of wondering, her suspicions had gradually settled on Yun Xi.

The more she thought about it, the more convinced she became.

It had been Yun Xi who had rescued Chang’er after his fall into the water.

At the old matriarch’s birthday banquet at the Pei residence, Chang’er had gone alone to the waterside pavilion, only to return in the company of that marquis’s household young lady.

Yun Xi had knelt at the palace gate seeking justice for Yun Luo, and in the end, it was Chang’er who had changed into his censor’s robes and rushed to the palace, interrupted the morning court session, and personally presented her evidence to the throne on her behalf.

Though he’d handled the matter beautifully at court that day, offending no one and even earning a measure of praise from His Majesty, the prince had never wanted the princely household drawn into the Zhaoyuan case in any way.

Prince Cong’s consort said, cautioning him, “The Marquis of Loyalty and Valor’s household is entangled far too deeply in the Zhaoyuan case. That marquis’s household young lady is, in the end, the daughter of a military family. A few years ago, it might not have mattered so much, but at this particular moment…”

She glanced toward the hall entrance, made sure no one was around, and lowered her voice. “Your imperial uncle is growing old, his health isn’t good, and there’s no one settled in the position of crown prince. Your father would surely not be pleased to see you growing too close to someone connected with the military.”

She paused, then added two more words: “It invites disaster.”

Discussing succession matters privately, let alone speculating on the Emperor’s health, was a grave breach of propriety—the princess consort was risking real transgression to caution her son this way.

Cheng Chang didn’t know what to say, feeling only that she was overthinking things considerably.

The princess consort asked again, “And Wan’er… do you truly feel nothing for her?”

Cheng Chang was silent for a moment. “Nothing.”

“That’s fine too. A primary wife doesn’t necessarily have to be someone you love,” the princess consort said with a smile. “Once you’re made heir apparent, you can still take secondary consorts, concubines as well.”

Cheng Chang couldn’t help but glance at her, opening his mouth, unsure where to even begin.

He had no desire to take so many wives and concubines. With too many people to share his life with, there was no guarantee any real companionship could ever come of it.

Marrying all these women in and leaving them like ornaments in the back courtyard—wasn’t that just condemning them to a wasted life?

He had no wish for others to constrain him, and so he had no wish to constrain others either.

In his past life, he’d searched his whole life without ever finding a true kindred spirit. In this life, finding just one person who wouldn’t disappoint the other would be more than enough.

The princess consort continued to press. “In a few days, the Princess Consort of Nan’an will have just recovered from a serious illness and is hosting a banquet at her mansion. I’ll bring Wan’er along—why don’t you see her again there?” She added, conceding somewhat, “At the very least, most of the noble young ladies of the capital will be attending, along with some collateral branches of Prince Nan’an’s family. Take a look and see if anyone catches your eye, and let your mother know when you get back.”

Prince Nan’an held the rank of a second-tier prince. Though also an imperial relative, his standing sat a notch below Prince Cong’s household.

Cheng Chang, however, perked up. “The Princess Consort of Nan’an?”

He’d heard that the Princess Consort of Nan’an had originally been a palace horse trainer, and even after marrying Prince Nan’an, her love of horses hadn’t waned in the slightest—she kept dozens of magnificent steeds in the mansion’s back courtyard, along with seven or eight dogs to guard them.

In all his time here, Cheng Chang had only encountered people from prominent, elite households, and had never come across any family that kept so many dogs.

Having heard Yun Xi speak of her days at the northern frontier earlier, his old fondness for dogs had been stirred up again. He’d meant to ask her whether Jinling had anything like a dog market, but the matter of the woodshed had interrupted before he could.

Cheng Chang agreed at once. “Sure. I’ll accompany Mother to Prince Nan’an’s mansion when the time comes.”

Seeing him agree so readily, the princess consort was delighted, assuming he’d finally taken her advice to heart, and said, “It’s getting quite late—go rest early.” She pressed him no further.

Little did she know, Cheng Chang had no intention of going to look over young ladies—he was going to look over dogs.

The next morning, Yun Xi returned to the marquis’s mansion looking utterly exhausted.

With the matter of a possible informant within the household weighing on her mind, she’d been restless even during her night shift.

By this hour, Fang Fulan was already up, sitting in the main hall waiting for her. The moment she saw Yun Xi, she hurried forward. “Why are you so worn out? Have you overexerted yourself?”

She added gently, “I specially made you a small pot of porridge this morning. Go have some in the kitchen, and rest up properly once you’ve eaten.”

Yun Xi gave an “Mm,” but didn’t move, slowly sitting down in the armchair to her right instead.

Seeing her expression so heavy, Fang Fulan came over, poured her a cup of water, and asked softly, “A’Ting, what’s wrong?”

Yun Xi ran through everyone in the household in her mind, and no matter who had leaked the information, she found it difficult to accept.

These were people who had served the household for the better part of their lives—they were like family to her.

Gripping the cup, Yun Xi stared down at the water inside, shook her head, and said, “Nothing’s wrong.”

But after a moment, she set the cup back down and asked, “Sister-in-law, after I left the mansion at noon yesterday, did anyone go out?”

Fang Fulan was taken aback at the question, then forced a smile after a moment. “This… why do you ask?”

“Just curious,” Yun Xi said, watching her closely. “Doesn’t Sister-in-law know?”

Fang Fulan said nothing, sitting silently beside Yun Xi for a long while before finally saying softly, “I don’t know.”

“Why not?”

“After noon yesterday… I went out.”

Yun Xi’s heart suddenly sank.

Fang Fulan never left the mansion in normal circumstances, except to see a physician—even the errand of pawning the jewelry Yun Luo had left her had been handled by Zhao Wu.

What was so special about yesterday that she’d suddenly, uncharacteristically, gone out?

“What did Sister-in-law go out to do?”

“To… buy a box of rouge.”

Yun Xi froze.

Fang Fulan avoided her gaze, smiling to herself. “I had a little extra money this month, and thought… in a few more years I’ll be old, so I might as well get some rouge to wear.”

She seemed to think this explanation reasonable enough, but on closer reflection, it made no sense at all.

Ever since Yun Luo’s death, Fang Fulan had worn plain mourning clothes and never touched makeup again. Three years had passed, the mourning period had long since ended, yet she remained just as before, and with the household so tight on funds, running the entire home herself with the utmost frugality—why would she suddenly spend silver on cosmetics for herself, out of nowhere?

Looking at it this way, Fang Fulan was clearly hiding something from her.

But Yun Xi still didn’t let herself suspect her outright, only asking, “What time did Sister-in-law leave the mansion at noon, and when did you return?”

“Around, the end of the hour of Shen, I think,” Fang Fulan said with a smile. “I don’t quite remember.”

She then asked, “A’Ting, what’s wrong?”

Yun Xi didn’t answer.

The Third Young Master had said—anyone in the household wanting to inform the true culprit would have had to leave sometime between noon and the hour of Shen.

Yun Xi felt her heart sinking straight down into the depths.

Over the years, she had lost all her blood relatives, with only this sister-in-law left to lean on.

Fang Fulan, too, had known a bitter fate. Years ago, as the reigning beauty of Jinling, rivaling immortals in loveliness, she had drawn so many young men of good families to knock on the Fang household’s door seeking her hand in marriage.

Lord Fang had grown quite arrogant because of this, determined to marry his daughter into an even grander household—only to end up gravely delaying her prospects instead.

Later, the Fang household had been convicted of a crime, and Fang Fulan had fallen overnight from a phoenix to a plucked bird.

Deeply concerned for her father, she had gone into the palace to plead with the Imperial Noble Consort, and with the Grand Empress Dowager, for leniency on his behalf.

But neither the Imperial Noble Consort nor the Grand Empress Dowager would grant her an audience—instead, they had sent word telling her not to bother coming back.

Fang Fulan had always carried herself with a proud, aloof temperament, and her striking beauty had already earned her no shortage of envy and resentment. During that period, as she knelt before the Imperial Noble Consort’s palace gate, kowtowing, she endured endless scorn and mockery from those around her, and yet she had forced herself to bear it all.

It was only upon hearing that her father had been sentenced to execution, pending review, that she had thrown herself into the lake in despair.

The lake Fang Fulan had thrown herself into was the plum pond east of the Imperial Noble Consort’s palace gate.

By chance, Yun Xi had been in the palace that day and witnessed Fang Fulan throwing herself into the water. She had dived in after her and pulled her out, then brought her to the Marquis of Loyalty and Valor’s mansion to care for her day and night.

It was while staying at the marquis’s mansion that Yun Luo, returning from a military campaign, first laid eyes on Fang Fulan and fell for her at first sight, using his military merits to petition the Emperor to pardon her of implication in her father’s crime, and married her.

Yun Xi’s family had never been blessed with good fortune—Fang Fulan had been married into the household for barely a year before news arrived of the old Marquis of Loyalty and Valor’s death at the northern frontier, and not long after, Yun Luo too went off to war.

It was Fang Fulan who had accompanied Yun Xi through the most agonizing period of her life.

“A’Ting?”

Seeing Yun Xi remain silent for so long, Fang Fulan called out to her softly, “What’s really wrong?”

“Nothing,” Yun Xi said.

She had originally meant to press Fang Fulan further about what she’d actually gone out to do yesterday.

But she couldn’t bring herself to ask. She was afraid of hearing an answer she didn’t want to know.

She still clung to a sliver of hope.

“I… have something to attend to, I’ll go to the back courtyard for a bit.”

She walked away in a hurry, and just as she reached the courtyard, she heard Fang Fulan call after her, “A’Ting, the Princess Consort of Nan’an has recovered from her illness and is hosting a banquet at her mansion—she sent an invitation over today. Will you… be going?”

Yun Xi didn’t answer. With official duties to attend to, she never went to such gatherings as a rule.

She steadied herself and went to the storage room in the back courtyard, where she questioned the servants one by one about everyone’s whereabouts the previous day.

After noon, aside from A’Ling and Zhao Wu, no one else had left the mansion.

A’Ling had gone out to buy medicine for Uncle Bai’s leg ailment.

Zhao Wu was always running errands for the household, going out every single day as a matter of course.

Both of their reasons for leaving the mansion held up far better than Fang Fulan’s did.

Yun Xi felt an emptiness settle over her, hollow and vast.

She had no idea how she would tell Cheng Chang. Should she really tell him that the person most likely to have informed the true culprit was her own sister-in-law?

Lost in thought, she wandered back toward her own courtyard, and passing through the covered walkway, accidentally collided with someone.

It was Fang Fulan’s personal maid, Mingcui.

Mingcui had been hurrying along, carrying a tray in her hands, and the collision knocked it askew, sending a pungent medicinal smell wafting into the air.

Picking up the broken medicine bowl, Mingcui asked, “Eldest Young Lady, are you hurt?”

Yun Xi shook her head, crouched down, and helped her gather up the pieces.

As she picked up the fragments, she suddenly realized the medicinal smell was off—Fang Fulan had a chronic illness and poor health, and Mingcui always attended to her medicine, but the smell of this particular brew was clearly not the one Fang Fulan usually took.

“What is this?” Yun Xi asked.

Mingcui glanced at her, seeming unsure how to answer, hesitating for a while before finally saying, “Eldest Young Lady, please don’t ask.”

Yun Xi said, “This isn’t Sister-in-law’s usual medicine.”

She pressed further, refusing to let it go: “Tell me, or I’ll go ask Sister-in-law directly.”

Mingcui looked troubled, but after a moment, seemed to steel herself and finally spoke, gritting her teeth. “Eldest Young Lady doesn’t know—the young mistress’s condition has worsened. This is a new medicine, recently changed.”

“Worsened? How could I not know about this?”

“Eldest Young Lady is often away from the mansion, so naturally you wouldn’t know,” Mingcui said, then hesitated again. “And the young mistress specifically told this servant not to tell you, for fear of worrying you.”

“Actually, ever since the Pei household’s Second Young Master returned to Jinling, the young mistress noticed you seemed reluctant to marry into the Pei household. Worrying over that on one hand, and over the young master’s case on the other, she hasn’t been sleeping well day or night, and her condition has worsened considerably.”

“In early March, she went into the palace and overexerted herself. Just as she stepped out of the palace gate, she nearly fainted by the moat. If Miss Luo hadn’t happened to pass by and see her, taking the young mistress straight to the apothecary, this servant wouldn’t have known what to do at the time.”

“The physician at the apothecary has since changed the young mistress’s medicine and told her to come more frequently. It used to be once every ten days, but now it’s been changed to once every five.”

“Luo Shu?” Yun Xi asked.

“Yes,” Mingcui nodded. “Once Miss Luo learned of the young mistress’s condition, she started coming by often to help. The young mistress shouldn’t overexert herself running around too much, so these days, when she goes to the apothecary, it’s often Miss Luo who accompanies her.”

“Just yesterday, in fact, when the young mistress went to see the physician, it was Miss Luo who came by carriage from her own household to pick her up.”