Fu Yi came back to himself and nodded. “His Majesty has already ordered the Ministry of Justice to investigate thoroughly.”

“Do you know what suspicious points they discovered in the southwest?”

“I recall my father once mentioned it briefly. He said something about secret reports and military maps, but he never told me the details.”

A crease appeared between Bai Qingqing’s brows. She, too, had tried to probe her father about the events of that year. At first, he refused to speak. Later, he finally confessed that he had never believed that old friend would betray the court. But the evidence had been conclusive, and even the enemy general had confirmed he’d received reliable intelligence from a traitor—information that nearly led to the collapse of the Xuan army.

If there had been the slightest room for doubt, Bai Jinghuai would have fought for that man until the end. But the evidence was airtight, leaving no space for defense. Only the man himself had refused to confess.

“But didn’t they already confirm all the evidence when the case was closed? How could there still be anything left out?”

Fu Yi couldn’t give her an answer to that either. “But don’t worry. I’ve already instructed people to watch the Ministry’s movements. If they send anyone to the southwest, my people should be able to follow. We’ll get word as soon as something turns up.”

“Then I’ll trouble you with it.”

“There’s no need to thank me. Never.”

Bai Qingqing lifted her eyes to look at him. In his gaze, she saw emotions too deep to name, and she sighed softly. “I think you should know, by now, that I’ve already—”

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“I know.”

Fu Yi cut her off, a bitter smile tugging uncontrollably at his lips. “I’m not so arrogant as to pretend the stupid things I did never happened. I don’t expect your forgiveness. I just… don’t want to disappoint you anymore.”

He knew the wound he had dealt Bai Qingqing could never be mended—especially when she had once loved and trusted him without reservation. He didn’t dare think too deeply on it. In his past life, his cowardice and insecurity had inflicted more pain on her than he could ever repay.

Bai Qingqing’s lips trembled slightly at his words. After a long pause, she finally spoke, her voice soft. “Thank you. At least you’ve made me feel that I didn’t completely misjudge you.”

After Fu Yi left Qingxin Pavilion, Bai Qingqing rested her weary head on the table. As soon as she closed her eyes, the image of Fu Yi saying he didn’t want to disappoint her surfaced in her mind.

That was what she had longed for in her past life. Back then, if he had been willing to make even the slightest effort for her, Bai Qingqing would have endured any hardship without complaint. But he hadn’t.

“I was already completely disappointed long ago…”

It was already too late.

…

When Fu Yi returned to Prince Ping’s residence, he had just stepped through the door when he ran into Madam Chang, the old nurse who had long served his mother.

She looked anxious and flustered, and when she saw him, it was as if she had spotted her last hope. With tears in her voice, she rushed over. “Young Master Fu Yi, you must go see Her Ladyship. Think of something, please. Everything the princess did—she did it for your sake!”

It was a scene Fu Yi had seen too many times.

After Prince Ping placed the princess under house arrest, she had initially thought it was no different from the past—just a show of temper that would pass. After all, she was the princess consort of Prince Ping, and her presence was needed for social occasions. How could he truly confine her?

But what she hadn’t expected was that this time was different.

Even after the swelling from that slap on her face had faded, Prince Ping still gave no sign of relenting. The courtyard gates remained guarded, and she was not allowed a single step beyond them.

All her social obligations were declined under the excuse that the princess was ill. Even an imperial summons from Consort Xian at the palace had been turned away the same way.