The entire hall fell silent.

No one had ever seen Mei Heting get angry, leaving everyone stunned.

Lu Chunfeng noticed the veins on Mei Heting’s forehead bulging, and the flames flickering in his dark eyes resembled the cold flames of Xiaoshan.

A chill ran down his spine.

“Mei, Mei, Mei Daren, what’s wrong? Let’s talk this over calmly…”

Someone mustered the courage to pull Mei Heting back, quietly explaining, “My lord, please don’t be angry. This matter just came out this morning… Since you say it’s a rumor, then it’s mere gossip; no one is allowed to speak carelessly from now on!”

Mei Heting’s face turned pale as he took a few steps back, beads of cold sweat forming on his back.

He understood well that no one dared to slander the Imperial Dowager in the palace, so this matter was likely true, at least partially.

He knew that the Imperial Dowager had sent out a proclamation seeking treatment, but he never imagined it would have any connection with Xuan Mingzhu.

That day, he had gone to the palace.

And it was also the day she had spoken decisively to him.

Seeking a child…

Mei Heting surely didn’t think that she wanted to separate because of her shame over being childless.

If it wasn’t for seeking a child, then what was wrong with her body?

The blood he had seen by her bedside the previous night resurfaced in his mind, causing Mei Heting’s throat to tighten, and in an instant, all thoughts vanished.

Dazed, he turned to head home.

Before leaving, he made a hasty bow to Lu Chunfeng, not even knowing what he had said, all the while adhering to the ingrained decorum: “Mei has overstepped; I apologize to Brother Lu.”

Lu Chunfeng didn’t dare accept his apology, staring blankly as he watched him hurriedly leave.

Before he reached the entrance of the Dali Temple, Jiang Jin rushed in.

Clearly having heard the rumors about the grand princess seeking a child, he anxiously whispered to Mei Heting:

“I just received news that as soon as you left the grand princess’s residence, invitations from all the noble families came pouring in. Young Master, there are many outside who are spreading malicious gossip. How many of them truly wish to invite the grand princess to a feast? What if the grand princess attends and faces humiliation?”

Having not slept all night, Mei Heting’s pale lips closed tightly, as if he could hardly stand.

Indeed.

Someone as dignified as Mingzhu, her marriage in shambles, would still have to face both overt and covert ridicule.

Those who twisted the truth would mock her for not bearing a son, for being unable to keep a man’s heart…

He had heard such spiteful words before.

Those at the top feel the cold the most, and the respected are often envied.

He understood this principle; he just thought that life could be lived privately behind closed doors, that their confidence was something they had built together, and that outsiders couldn’t know about their benefits as a couple.

Why bother explaining to the petty and malicious, which would only degrade him?

He believed that Xuan Mingzhu shared his mindset, not caring about such idle chatter, especially since she was a princess; who could truly hurt her?

So, he had never once explained anything on her behalf.

Today, having been misunderstood by his colleagues, he finally knew how this feeling pierced to the core.

He was so focused on his own principles that he forgot she was a star adored by many.

Instead, he dragged her into the mire, allowing others to slander her lightly.

“Master, are you okay?” Jiang Jin, seeing him about to collapse, quickly reached out to support him.

Mei Heting pushed him away.

“Let’s go home.” His fragmented gaze was almost drowned in regret, and his voice was choked with emotion.

Even though he rushed back to the long princess’s residence in a fit of anger, Mei Heting was still one step behind.

Outside the gates, a burly man dressed in a willow leaf brocade shirt had already arrived.

His cheeks were round and flushed.

Upon seeing Mei Heting, a look of surprise flashed in his eyes.

Then, he graciously bowed in return, unable to hide his cheerful demeanor: “Mei Daren, you must have forgotten who I am!”

“Liu Xirang.”

How could Mei Heting not remember?

This man was Liu Zhengmei’s grandson, the esteemed Minister of the East Pavilion.

He had gotten utterly drunk at Mei Heting’s wedding ceremony, after which it was said that Liu’s young master vowed never to marry anyone but the grand princess.

He recalled that when Xuan Mingzhu learned of this matter, she had been speechless for quite a while before sending a letter to Liu Xirang, whom she didn’t know very well.

In the letter, she had racked her brains to word it such that he shouldn’t get hung up on the matter and that it was only right to seek a good match and start a family.

At that time, Mei Heting was still quite unfamiliar with his newlywed wife, and he had been unexpectedly taken aback by the young master’s reaction.

Never did she expect that someone as domineering as her could also have moments of fluster.

The newlywed grans princess seriously bit the pen and said, “In my life, I fear nothing under heaven, except for true feelings. I have found the best young man in the world, so how could I waste someone else’s time?”

At that time, the young man, still a blooming talent, felt his ears heat up from her words.

The instigator, oblivious to the effect she had, eagerly held out the letter she had written for him to review, claiming it was to avoid misunderstandings.

The letter was written in a chaotic and incoherent manner, yet it revealed the true nature of the writer.

Mei Heting clearly remembered that after reading the letter she wrote to another man, he felt a sour sensation in his heart, even though it had nothing to do with romantic affairs.

At that moment, he refused to admit it and told himself he was just bored.

Unexpectedly, today he would meet Liu Xirang in such a situation.

Liu Xirang’s courtesy name also had the character “sheng,” as in Liu Yunsheng.

There was a line from the “Peony Pavilion,” which Xuan Mingzhu often referenced: “Not by the plum tree, but by the willow tree.”

In the past, he had disregarded such trivial matters, but once he took them seriously, they became a sharp needle piercing his heart.

Mei Heting narrowed his eyes, his expression filled with warning: “Hurry up! Do you think you are qualified?”

Liu Xirang was momentarily taken aback, then laughed, “Since His Highness Zhao Le proposed a separation, it must be because Lord Mei has been unfeeling toward her. You have wronged the princess for seven years; how can we not be more qualified than you?”

At the moment, he was still a bit puffy, having just run a few miles around the city moat, and his excited tone made him pant slightly.

But he didn’t mind; for the grand princess, Liu Xirang was determined to lose weight.

He wouldn’t allow another competitor among the princess’s suitors; that would be embarrassing.

Faced with Liu’s triumphant demeanor, Mei Heting’s gaze grew increasingly sharp and dangerous, yet he felt powerless to refute him.

Liu’s words hit the mark, each one stepping on his sore spots.

After Yan Huai, now another Liu Xirang had appeared.

He could calmly face that sharp-tongued young lord because he could clearly see and touch his tactics, but when confronted with Liu Xirang, who seemed to have no chance, Mei Heting felt an inner panic.

It was she who had once said, the fearless among the heavens and the earth could still fear a true heart.

The blazing sun hung overhead, its intense light scorching the blue bricks and black tiles.

In the interplay of cool shade and burning sunlight, Mei Heting’s hands and feet turned cold.

He suddenly realized that those whose hearts had been worn down would not remain where they were waiting for another to apologize, repent, and make amends.

Now, he had completely fallen from being the sole possessor of the long princess to merely standing in line among her suitors.

No, he had even squandered an opportunity, losing the very qualification to stand before her.

His usual confidence had vanished entirely, and it felt as if he had hooked a fish from a dried-up pond, unable to breathe, only able to endure the painful slaps of its tail against his heart.

“She… she said I was the best young man in the world… is that true?”

After a long moment, his voice emerged hoarsely.

Liu Xirang was momentarily stunned.

He truly never expected that the once mature and composed Mei Heting, who had received praise from Emperor Jinming at the age of seventeen, would be so shameless.

Jiang Jin directly covered his eyes.

Could it be that the young master was flustered, speaking in such a childish tone to vie for affection?

Since birth, Mei Heting had always been smooth sailing, born into a prominent family, intelligent from a young age, and he had passed the imperial examination in one try.

His marriage had come effortlessly, requiring not a bit of his effort.

Thus, this struggle against others had momentarily trapped this pride of heaven.

He trembled as he gathered his courage, pursing his lips and saying, “She even built Mei He Garden for me. Do you have one? Liu Xirang’s Garden, is that even sensible?”

Jiang Jin could no longer bear to listen, pulling the young master down and whispering, “Young Master, the Liu family’s young lord is standing here; he’s probably been turned away at the door. You shouldn’t be angry; it’s best to explain yourself clearly in front of the long princess.”

Upon hearing this, Mei Heting realized Jiang Jin was right; he had been blinded by a single leaf.

He raised his chin and cast a glance at Liu Xirang.

With determination, he stepped forward to knock on the door.

Inside his palm, there was a layer of fine sweat.

He was afraid that Xuan Mingzhu would also give him a cold shoulder.

Fortunately, when the doorman opened the door and looked him over, after some hesitation, he still let him in.

Mei Heting knew he was shamelessly taking advantage of Baoya’s reputation; however, he couldn’t care less.

As he walked into the courtyard, he saw servants carrying bundles of withered plum branches coming out from the back garden.

Mei Heting paused his steps.

A few kitchen servants approached, gripping the slender necks of red-crowned cranes, some with broken wings, some plucking feathers, their expressions brimming with the anticipation of sharpening their knives.

His voice was hoarse: “What are you doing?”

The servants exchanged glances.

They knew they couldn’t treat this master with the same courtesy they would a prince, yet with his official status, it was also inappropriate to disregard him.

After a moment, a young servant stepped forward, bowing slightly and speaking in a low voice:

“Your Highness ordered us to clear out Mei Garden. Tonight… we’re to roast plums and cook the cranes for a feast.”

Mei Heting stood stunned for a while, his eyes darkening, and he headed straight for Mei Garden.

This time, unlike before when he faced numerous obstacles, he easily reached the corridor where he had stood guard all night.

Just as he was about to lift the curtain, he heard a familiar voice from inside.

“Years pass by, all grievances gather, we share our hearts in the depths of the years. Hmm, that’s quite a name, you must have read some books?”

Responding to Xuan Mingzhu was a soft, lingering male voice, so gentle it seemed to drip with water:

“Replying to Your Highness, my ancestors once had a successful candidate in the imperial examinations, and our family used to have a collection of books. When I was young, I often browsed through idle books. Later, our clan fell into decline, and the whole residence changed to another surname.”

“Such a pity, this child truly elicits sympathy… Ah, be gentle.”

Under the green bamboo curtain woven with silk threads, Mei Heting’s eyes were dark and cold, his sleeves shaking uncontrollably.