What was the purpose of this, he didn’t know.

He only knew that the dream from last night had ensnared him like a delicate silk net, and every time he recalled it, his heart raced.

He suspected that there were one or two key phrases in that dream, but afterward, he could remember nothing, only a lingering sense of unease.

Before any sound emerged from the inner chamber, Jiang Jin arrived at the second gate.

He couldn’t enter the inner residence, so he pleaded with Secretary Bi to convey to the young master that there was urgent business at the office.

Mei Heting frowned after hearing this, glanced at the intricate cloud-patterned window, and turned to leave.

Having not slept all night and standing for too long, his legs stiffened, and he stumbled slightly on the wet moss while going down the steps, almost slipping into the muddy rain.

“Lord Mei.”

Bi Changshi looked at the man’s unsteady figure and sighed as he called out to him.

He said, “Forgive my intrusion, but it’s difficult to balance everything. Wanting to take care of both sides and do well at each is no easy task.”

Mei Heting steadied himself and replied, “I appreciate the advice.”

He originally planned to inform Jiang Jin, asking him to go to the Dali Temple and deduct his accumulated leave days to request some time off.

He was not one to give up halfway; he approached both his official duties and emotions with the same determination.

Upon arriving at the second gate, he found Jiang Jin with a serious expression.

Seeing Mei Heting, he hurriedly said:

“Sir, there was a murder in Pingkangli this morning—the head of the Astronomical Bureau was killed! Lord Cui personally requested you to investigate!”

---

By the time Xuan Mingzhu woke again, news from the Ministry of Rites had already spread like wildfire.

The distinction between “verbal divorce” and “official annulment” meant entirely different things, turning the post-rain morning into a boiling cauldron in the capital.

All the noble families and officials who followed the matter, upon lifting their bed curtains, immediately asked:

“Is it true? Has the Grand Princess really divorced Prince Mei?”

Within the noblewomen’s circles, those who were friends with Princess Zhaole, like Princess Chengyu, were eagerly seeking confirmation from the court ladies, as though each nod from the court ladies would add to their satisfaction.

Especially the wife of Prince Shen, who had just been angered by her adopted daughter’s troubles, sighed in relief upon hearing this news.

Among the noblemen, reactions were mixed; for example, Feng Zhen of the Guangxin Marquis family felt both joy and anger.

He was glad that his elder brother was finally free from that shackling relationship and could join them for leisure again, but was also upset that the Mei family, despite occupying the Grand Princess’s affections for seven years, had no ability to offer his brother a lasting partnership!

In the Earl of England’s residence, Yan Huai was already up at dawn, practicing his spear with a fierce aura.

His moves were sharp and lethal, clearly demonstrating that the young general from Pingnan was filled with rage.

His anger towards Mei Heting was secondary; he viewed him as a self-important fool who wouldn’t last a round under his spear.

What truly infuriated him was his helplessness regarding his sister’s condition.

Half a month had passed, and none of the doctors or remedies brought back from the southern regions had proven effective, only heightening his anxiety.

At the flag pavilion in the east of the city, those who once admired the Long Princess but failed to win her affection, upon learning that Princess Zhaole was now single again, rushed to drown their sorrows in drink, lamenting their foolishness for not waiting a few more years.

On the north bank of the city’s moat, a tall and robust figure was running at full speed.

This was the grandson of the Liu family, who had been deeply infatuated with Princess Zhaole.

After attending her wedding with Mei Heting, he had sworn off marriage in despair, indulging in food and drink until he transformed from a handsome young man into a burly figure.

This morning, upon hearing the joyous news, he burst into laughter, declaring that his chance had come again!

The priority now was to shed his excess weight, dress nicely, and rush out, with his family unable to stop him.

This humorous turn of events reached the East City’s Yichunfang, where Yang Kezhi, Li Mengjing, Fu Fangfang, and Fu Yuanyuan—friends who had planned to host a second spring banquet for the Grand Princess—laughed until their stomachs hurt.

What should have been an embarrassing situation had inexplicably become the most talked-about event in the capital in the fourth month of the third year of Yongchun, stirring up a cacophony of chatter.

Even the young emperor Xuan Changci could not remain aloof, asking with interest before taking his seat in the Hall of Two Rituals:

“Did he really tear up the annulment documents?”

Huang Fuquan bowed as he adjusted the emperor’s yellow dragon belt and replied with a smile, “It’s a settled matter; even if this lord tore up all the paper in Luoyang, he cannot change the official records kept in the ancestral temple. However, such an act does seem somewhat reckless and disrespectful.”

The young emperor snorted lightly, “If he lacks even this bit of courage, then even if my aunt were to speak up, I wouldn’t dare employ such a heartless person.”

“Huang Fuquan, do you think Lord Mei regrets it?”

Huang Gonggong shook his head, saying he didn’t know, then pretended to wipe his eyes, “Your Highness, the previous emperor’s favorite sister was Princess Zhaole… Just thinking about it makes one feel heartbroken. Last night, the Grand Princess summoned the royal physician again; I wonder how things are going.”

The emperor’s jaw tightened, and a youthful resolve and authority shone in his brows as he summoned the Chief Eunuch Gao Rang.

“At today’s court session, note who speaks well of Mei Heting, who reprimands him for disrespecting the royal family, and who seizes the opportunity to bring up the matter of the Grand Princess supporting the deposed Wang Tao. Make sure to document everything clearly for me!”

Since the royal aunt had stirred up such a commotion to muddy the waters of the capital, he had to observe carefully.

He could not let down his royal aunt’s intentions.

---

While the morning court was still ongoing, the Grand Princess’s residence had become busier than the western market.

In just the morning, the invitations sent to the now-single Princess Zhaole had piled up half a foot high.

Hong’er and Cheng’er looked at each other in disbelief as they presented the pile of notes to the princess.

There were various types of decorative notes—gold-edged, pressed flowers, and autumn water designs, even a glaring red double happiness invitation mixed in among them.

The words on it read: “Liu Sheng reveres the Grand Princess’s beauty.”

“How refreshing,” Xuan Mingzhu said, still a bit groggy from sleep, but the pile of invitations stirred her awake.

Her breath was calmer than the previous night, and she sipped some longan soup while wearing soft slippers at the edge of the bed to open the notes.

Remembering something, she didn’t lift her head and asked, “Is he still outside?”

Hong’er knew she was referring to whom and replied, “He was called away by Jiang Jin at the end of the hour. I heard there’s a case.”

Xuan Mingzhu responded with an “oh,” looking at the colorful invitations beside her, and couldn’t help but chuckle.

“It’s like Tang Seng escaping from the spider demon’s clutches; look, since I’ve let go, my social circle has improved.”

Cheng’er exclaimed, “Could it be that our Grand Princess’s residence is a Spider Cave?”

Hong’er stepped on Cheng’er’s foot, “Don’t be ridiculous! Our princess is like the Glazed Bodhisattva on the Purple Gold Lotus Seat, naturally cheerful, with a touch of red in her brow; every glance and smile is like the sweet dew of Yangzhi.”

“Please,” Xuan Mingzhu said, finding it cheesy, lightly laughing as she twisted her hair, “The Bodhisattva remains unperturbed by worldly affairs, but I do! Children, Grandma’s Spider Cave is empty; shouldn’t we gather some yang energy?”

With her own affairs laid bare for all to see, she still had the leisure to jest, especially with Cheng’er at her side, who curiously asked, “Your Highness, how should we replenish it?”

Xuan Mingzhu flicked her cosmetic powder and chuckled.

How to replenish?

Last night, unable to sleep, she had pondered everything from court matters to love, and in a moment of inspiration—having lived this long, what need was there for any accolades?

In this life, everyone had enough, but there was one thing she could never measure up to compared to her younger brother, Xiao Liu, who had three princes and numerous suitors.

It made no sense that she, older, was less experienced and less remarkable in romance.

What kind of person was Princess Zhao Le? Entering the music halls at five, dressing as a boy at ten to learn the craft. One day, a talented musician, upon seeing her, laughed and predicted that she would have admirers in five years, remaining devoted to her until twenty.

This odd occurrence became a joke among the musical circles of the capital.

At that time, the ninth prince had not yet retreated to monkhood, playfully teasing her, “I see that the one lost in the waves is none other than you, Xuan Mingzhu. You’ve charmed so many with your icy heart.”

Could such a princess really lose in matters of romance? Impossible.

While contemplating her indulgences, she sternly advised, “Be vigilant against gossip reaching Chufeng Courtyard and the Lady’s quarters; the Lady is weak, and I’ll manage the aftermath once she leaves the capital. As for Bao Ya…”

Xuan Mingzhu softened, “She’s a perceptive child; I’ll explain things to her myself.”

Hong’er was to help categorize the invitations.

There were princesses inviting her to admire flowers, royal aunts asking her to drink, and many friends celebrating or consoling her, some requesting to toast or mediate for her.

This made Xuan Mingzhu chuckle continuously.

Especially outrageous was a former theater head from a past acquaintance, eager to perform “Plum Blossoms Again” for her.

“Indeed,” Xuan Mingzhu narrowed her eyes, a hint of amusement appearing, “News in the capital travels faster than feet; those who matter are aware, and among them, Master Ruan’s sentiment is most genuine.”

She knew well that half of these invitations harbored ill intentions.

They awaited her solitude after parting from the prince, ready to mock and jeer.

After all, they had been a loving couple for seven years, recently throwing a grand birthday feast, only to part ways—who wouldn’t be curious?

Those refined people, raised in luxury, had sharp eyes and dark hearts, always ready to think the worst.

They wouldn’t believe it was her who left the prince; after seven years, her affections for him were common knowledge.

They would likely think the truth was that he had grown weary of her, maintaining appearances for the royal family.

But Xuan Mingzhu was not the timid maiden who would allow herself to be easily pushed around.

When Hong’er asked if she should cancel the gatherings to avoid trouble, she smiled charmingly.

“Why not go? If others respect me a foot, I will respect them a mile. Anyone waiting to see me stumble will have to think twice about their own prospects!”

“Right, it’s the prince who has parted with the wife, Mei. If anyone laughs, it will naturally be at his expense!”

Cheng’er, protective, interjected eagerly, “Why should Your Highness hide away? I don’t believe anyone would dare to confront you. I’m ready to defend you!”

Xuan Mingzhu smiled and gently poked her with her finger.

“His future achievements may not be any less than that of the Prince Consort; no matter what he thinks in his heart, he should speak respectfully.”

This statement wasn’t meant to defend Mei Heting, but to remind the court ladies of their inappropriate behavior, which was clear on their faces.

Thus, Cheng’er only playfully stuck out her tongue, skipping even an apology.

Her eyes turned to the various invitations, and she carelessly remarked, “The tune ‘Mei Kaierdu’ fits the occasion, but the name is not good; it has a bad connotation. I think ‘Hong Luanxi’ is better.”

“What nonsense are you spouting now!” Hong’er shot her a sideways glance, her almond-shaped eyes wide.

She was just spouting off without thinking, only knowing that ‘Hong Luanxi’ includes a scene about “hitting an unfaithful lover,” without considering that Jin Yunu is the daughter of a beggar.

How could she be compared to Her Highness the Princess?

Cheng’er quickly realized her mistake and knelt down with her eyes lowered.

“I spoke thoughtlessly; please punish me, Your Highness.”

Xuan Mingzhu smiled, knowing they were frightened by last night’s events and were trying to lighten the mood with humor.

“You two have been by my side since childhood, working hard and caring for me. Now that you’re all grown up, I should find you both suitable families…”

Before she could finish, Hong’er and Cheng’er both turned pale and shook their heads.

At that moment, the doorkeeper came in to report that Princess Chengyu had sent a gift, and the news was brought in.

Upon hearing Chengyu, Xuan Mingzhu knew there couldn’t be anything good, so she stopped her speech and chuckled, “Why is Xiao Liu also coveting my single status? What good thing has she sent to congratulate me?”

Ying Xiao’s expression was strange, “Your Highness, it’s not an item; it’s that man that the Sixth Princess has kept by her side for many years.”

Cheng’er, eager to change the somber topic of the Princess’s posthumous affairs, suddenly had an idea and exclaimed, throwing herself at Xuan Mingzhu’s knees, “Grandma, she truly is a worm in your belly!”

Ying Xiao was taken aback, wondering what kind of play this was.

---

The black lacquered plaque hung at the entrance of the Hua residence was sealed with a red-stamped notice.

When Mei Heting arrived in official attire on horseback, he found two officers whispering about the news they had heard that morning.

It was already unusual enough for the Princess to divorce; the fact that the person she divorced was their superior made it even juicier. Anyone would be unable to resist savoring such gossip.

When they looked up and saw the subject of their discussion approaching, they hurriedly bowed.

The icy glare from the young minister made the two officers feel as though they had fallen into an ice pit, and they hurriedly tore down the seal from the door.

Inside, the corpse had not been moved an inch, and Cui Qing was already speaking, declaring that this case was serious; unless Mei Shaoqing came, no one was allowed to disturb the scene.

The deceased was Hua Miaoxin, who had held the position of Supervisor at the Astronomical Station for over forty years, renowned for his skills in astrology.

For a third-rank official to suddenly die at home was indeed a grave matter.

The corpse lay in the study, and Mei Heting approached with a serious expression.

He could see the curiosity in the officers’ eyes.

At that moment, he should have been at home waiting for the Princess to awaken, but a murder case does not adhere to the timing of life; a wronged soul awaited justice, and he could not simply close his eyes and ignore it.

As he reached the door of the study, he caught sight of the noticeable wound on the deceased’s waist that almost cut through the body. Mei Shaoqing furrowed his brows.

“The wound is wide and long, but narrow on the inside; it’s an axe wound… an axe? How could it be an axe?” he muttered, pondering.

Jiang Jin asked in confusion, “What’s wrong with an axe?”