The Eastern Palace.
As soon as Song Xiyan returned to the Eastern Palace, she burst into uncontrollable sobs. Song Yanchao and Song Yanming spent an entire hour trying to comfort her, but to no avail. Eventually, they left her courtyard in frustration.
Seeing this, Song Xiyan cried even harder.
"Before... before, Mother and Eldest Brother would never leave until they had comforted me properly," she wailed between gasps, stumbling toward Li Garden.
But she was stopped by a matron at the courtyard gate.
"Matron, I want to see Mother," Song Xiyan pleaded, her heart shattered by the relentless blows of misfortune.
"The Consort is unwell. The Princess should return another day," the matron replied coldly.
Her sharp eyes bore into Song Xiyan. Ever since the Consort had been demoted, neither the Princess nor the imperial grandsons had visited Li Garden even once, let alone offered a single word of comfort.
The Consort was right—how could such a daughter possibly be a harbinger of good fortune?
Heaven was not blind.
"Mother is ill?" Song Xiyan's tear-filled eyes widened.
"It's a cough. If the Princess were to catch it... that would be unfortunate."
At these words, Song Xiyan hastily wiped her tears with a handkerchief. "In that case, I won't disturb Mother further."
As she walked away, the matron spat on the ground in disgust.
A royal princess? More like an ungrateful wretch!
Finding no solace in Li Garden, Song Xiyan ran to the Crown Prince's quarters, tugging at Song Yanzheng's sleeve as she resumed her weeping.
"Eldest Brother, they all bully me! They pushed me into Class C—how could that wild girl Song Shihuan possibly score higher than me?" Song Yanzheng watched silently, finding her cries both ugly and grating.
How had he ever tolerated this before?
"I want to see Song Shihuan's exam paper, but they won't let me! They must be hiding something!"
"And that wretch Shen Hua'er—she’s two-faced, pretending to be kind while scheming behind my back—"
"Enough!" Song Yanzheng snapped impatiently.
Song Xiyan froze, stunned by his harsh tone. Even her tears seemed to hang suspended in her eyes.
"Song Xiyan, don’t disturb Father’s rest. If you must cry, do it outside."
He couldn’t afford to delay his father’s recovery.
"Eldest Brother?"
"I don’t have time to coddle you. Go find Yanchao and Yanming." With that, Song Yanzheng dismissed her, and the servants promptly escorted her out.
A cold wind swept past, making Song Xiyan shiver.
Why had even Eldest Brother changed?
Inside the room, a eunuch hesitated before speaking up. "Your Highness, it seems that ever since Princess Fu'an was found, the Eastern Palace has been plagued with misfortune."
"Because Song Shihuan is a curse upon us," Song Yanzheng muttered darkly.
"But this servant has noticed that Princess Fu'an seems blessed with extraordinary luck. Even the Qin Prince has gained influence in the Ministry of Revenue and the Ministry of War." The eunuch pursed his lips. "Meanwhile, our Princess has fallen to Class C in the academy."
A preposterous thought suddenly flashed through Song Yanzheng’s mind.
"This servant speaks out of turn, but the Second Princess’s luck seems... unusually poor."
A crack formed in Song Yanzheng’s composure.
During the prophecy all those years ago, his mother had been carrying more than one child!
Could it be...?
His face paled, and he stormed out of the room.
The eunuch lowered his head, his gaze lingering on the scar on his hand.
Years ago, he had accidentally broken a teacup, and the Second Princess had ordered the shards to be dragged across his skin. The searing pain was something he would never forget.
Meanwhile, laughter filled the Qin Prince's Mansion.
"A-Huan, are you saying... Shen Hua'er is going to become the Crown Princess?" Song Yu nearly dropped his chopsticks in shock. "I need a moment to process this."
A woman who had once aimed to marry the Crown Prince’s heir, then switched her sights to the Qin Prince—only to end up as the Crown Prince’s consort?
How utterly... chaotic.
"Indeed. Today, His Majesty seemed quite pleased with her." Song Shihuan rested her chin on her hands. She had only given a small nudge—most of the effort had been Shen Hua'er’s own doing.
But then another thought struck her.
"The cross-class exam results were only announced within the academy. Yet Shen Hua'er already knew about it today."
Not just her—none of the other candidates had seemed surprised either.
"That’s because His Highness has been telling everyone for the past two days that the Princess made it into Class A," Shen Qingping interjected between bites, pointing at his ears. "I’ve heard it so much, my ears are calloused."
Song Yu shot him a glare but was interrupted by Liuxi’s voice outside. "Your Highness, the Eldest Imperial Grandson is here."
Song Yu’s brow furrowed so deeply it could crush a fly.
A short while later, he stared at the disheveled Song Yanzheng with open hostility.
"What do you want?"
"Uncle... I’d like to see A-Huan."
"A-Huan?" Song Yu’s guard went up. Since when had this boy addressed her so familiarly?
"A-Huan is busy with her studies. She’s reading right now."
Song Yanzheng’s palms were slick with sweat. Song Yu stood like an impenetrable wall between him and Song Shihuan.
"Just one glance."
His voice trembled. If A-Huan was truly the prophesied child of fortune, then everything made sense.
They had pushed her away, and in doing so, doomed the Eastern Palace to its current decline—while the Qin Prince’s Mansion flourished.
"There’s nothing worth seeing. The Eldest Imperial Grandson should leave."
A cold voice rang out from inside. Song Yanzheng shoved past Song Yu and burst into the room. "A-Huan, I... I’ve come to take you home."
"The Eldest Imperial Grandson is mistaken. This is my home."
Song Shihuan’s gaze was icy. In her past life, she had been the pitiful one, begging Song Yanzheng for mercy.
"No, you’re Father and Mother’s child—my blood sister, the Eastern Palace’s..."
Its last hope.
The words burned in his mind.
"Song Yanzheng, have you lost your mind?" Song Yu grabbed him by the collar and slammed him against the wall. "If your eyes don’t work, I’ll drag out the imperial genealogy and show you exactly whose child A-Huan is!"
"Uncle, I must take A-Huan back." Song Yanzheng was beyond reason.
Song Yu’s fist crashed into his eye.
Again. And again.
"You abandoned her back then—especially you, you heartless wretch! You even tried to send her to Huangjue Temple!" Each accusation was punctuated by another blow. "Now that I’ve raised her like a precious flower—cherishing her, protecting her—you dare say you’ll take her home?"
His punches grew fiercer, uncaring that Song Yanzheng was barely breathing.
"Home? Nonsense! Wherever I am, that’s A-Huan’s home!"
