The visitor was Nanny Sang, the most capable stewardess serving the Princess of Zhennan. She had brought, as ordered by the Princess, a basket of fresh strawberries from their estate, saying it was a gift for Old Lady Song to enjoy.

  Old Lady Song smiled and had a brocade stool brought over for Nanny Sang. Seeing her sit down only halfway, Old Lady Song remarked with a smile, “Thank you for the Princess’s thoughtfulness. I’ve heard that the Princess managed to grow strawberries in her estate using greenhouses, and now they’ve arrived so quickly.”

  In truth, Old Lady Song’s thoughts weren’t much different from First Lady Cui’s. Ye Jingchuan had the character, appearance, and most importantly, sincere affection for Song Chuyi. Marriage, after all, was about harmony and happiness. The Zhennan Estate was a rge and established household; Ye Jingchuan didn’t need to prove himself further, and Song Chuyi wouldn’t even need to manage the household as a matriarch. She could simply live a pampered life as a favored daughter-in-w.

  Had it not been for Song Yan’s incident, Old Lady Song would have already written to seek First Lady Cui’s opinion. But one dey led to another, and now trouble had arisen. With Song Chuyi carrying such a reputation, it was said that only someone of great fortune and status could suppress her fate; otherwise, misfortune would fall on whoever married her. How could any family accept such a burden?

  Princess Rongcheng must have informed the Princess of Zhennan about this news yesterday, which expined why Nanny Sang had shown up so promptly. Surely, it wasn’t just for the strawberries.

  Old Lady Song’s smile faded slightly as she pondered this.

  She had been worried that Song Chuyi’s marriage would be used as leverage by others, but she hadn’t expected someone to pull such a vile trick—essentially making her unmarriageable.

  Nanny Sang chuckled, “Yes, we grew the strawberries in greenhouses with charcoal for heating. It’s troublesome, but we managed. Our Princess thought to share them with everyone and show that her words weren’t empty promises.”

  After a pause, Nanny Sang added with a smile, "I just didn't expect the Princess to also be at the Marquis's residence. I'm afraid the Pan family will have made this trip in vain..."

  First Lady Cui, growing tired of the veiled back-and-forth, interjected meaningfully, “Oh? I get some too?”

  “How could we dare leave you out, Princess?” Nanny Sang replied with an even broader smile. “I didn’t just come to deliver strawberries today. The Princess also asked me to bring invitations specifically for the Sixth Miss and Miss Mingzi. On the seventeenth, we’re hosting a gathering at the manor and would like to invite the young dies to enjoy the opera.”

  An invitation for Song Chuyi, even now?

  After hearing from Princess Rongcheng, the Princess of Zhennan still decided to invite Song Chuyi to the Zhennan Estate?

  Ye Yunxiu, feeling that her mother had completely lost her mind, clutched the Princess of Zhennan’s arm and hurriedly blurted out what Master Yuanhui had said about Song Chuyi’s fate. She was on the verge of tears as she excimed, “Mother, aren’t you pushing Second Brother into the fire pit? Didn’t Master Yuanhui say that only someone of supreme fortune could suppress Sixth Miss Song’s ill-fated destiny? If they can’t suppress it, isn’t it courting death…?”

  The Princess of Zhennan shot her a gre and signaled for a maid to take away the bowl of balsam flower juice on the table. She stretched out her hands, admiring her evenly dyed crimson nails, and then turned back slowly to scold her daughter. “What do you know? Just because Yuanhui said it, does that make it true?”

  Ye Yunxiu, flustered, found her mother unreasonable. “If Master Yuanhui isn’t accurate, then who is? Back at the hunting grounds, Master Yuanhui already said her fate was cursed with Heavenly Lone Star, and sure enough, trouble happened afterward. She herself was fine, but she brought disaster upon so many others… A person so inauspicious—others avoid her like the pgue, yet you’re still trying to marry her to Second Brother. Are you… are you…?”

  She stomped her foot, unable to continue.

  In the Great Zhou dynasty, belief in divine omens and fate ran deep. The Princess of Zhennan, too, was a devout follower—of both Buddhism and Daoism. But as for Yuanhui’s words, she simply didn’t believe them.

  Ye Jingkuan had expined it well: the incident at the hunting grounds was orchestrated. Someone used Yuanhui’s words to exaggerate Song Chuyi’s fate as dangerous to justify sending assassins after her, pinning all the bme on her so-called ill fortune.

  And now, it was clear that someone feared the growing closeness between the Crown Prince's heir and Song Chuyi. With Emperor Jianzhang pushing for Zhou Weizhao’s marriage to be resolved, they worried that the Song family might marry Song Chuyi to the Crown Prince's heir, strengthening their bond. So they dredged up this old tale of ill fate again to make the Crown Prince's heir hesitate and pressure the Song family into abandoning the idea.

  The Princess of Zhennan was unfazed. She saw through the scheme and refused to py along.

  Ye Yunxiu, however, was still caught up in superstition, unable to see the broader picture.

  What ill fate? If it were truly ominous, then why hadn’t anything happened to the rest of the Song family? Why was the Song family doing so well, and even the Cui family was thriving?

  Although the Empress also understood this logic, she was reluctant to let the Crown Prince's heir take any risks and thus remained cautious. The Zhennan Estate, however, was different.

  King Zhennan was a man forged in the fires of battle, bloodied on the battlefield. How could such a man possibly fear something like this?

  Moreover…

  The Princess of Zhennan gave her daughter a wry smile and tapped her forehead with a finger. “Are you really worried I’d harm your brother? Don’t you worry—he’s happier about this than anyone else!”

  At first, she had been somewhat displeased herself. It seemed as though the Empress, unwilling to lose the Song family as an ally but also unwilling to let the Crown Prince's heir take risks, had thrown this problem at Zhennan Estate, as though treating Ye Jingchuan as a test subject. But she couldn’t resist Ye Jingkuan’s persuasion—nor her youngest son’s relentless pestering.

  That rascal had said that during the hunting grounds incident, it was Song Chuyi who had deliberately asked the Crown Prince's heir to mention the matter to the Empress. Only then had the Empress intervened personally, which caused the rumors about Song Chuyi’s ill fate to spread. The truth was far less sinister than Master Yuanhui had cimed.

  He was her son, after all. Who in the world could know him better than she did? The moment she heard him say this, and considering how attentive he usually was toward Song Chuyi, she immediately understood: Ye Jingchuan was desperate to marry Song Chuyi.

  With this realization, everything became clear. The Empress must have already known that the so-called “ill fate” was nothing more than nonsense. She simply used the situation as an excuse to subtly distance the Crown Prince's heir from the Song family, ensuring they wouldn’t become too closely tied.

  The Princess of Zhennan was never one to be overly shrewd or petty. With a husband who could command authority and a young, capable son who could shoulder responsibility, she rarely concerned herself with trivial matters.

  Since her youngest son was so smitten, and since the rumors about Song Chuyi’s fate were nothing more than malicious fabrications aimed at undermining the Song family, she naturally didn’t care much about it.

  What’s more, her husband and eldest son had already said that the Crown Prince, in order to avoid suspicion, couldn’t openly associate too closely with the Song family for the time being. But the Song family—such a plump, juicy duck—couldn’t simply be handed over to someone else. As loyal supporters of the Crown Prince, it was only natural for them to help share his burdens.