When the Princess Consort finally sensed fear, it was the kind that crawled deep into her bones. What were they trying to do? She was the Princess Consort of Prince Ping! How could Fu Yanghong treat her like this?

But no matter how she raged or cried, Prince Ping turned a blind eye. All household matters were handed over to Zhou Sichun, who was tactful and measured. She didn’t take the chance to retaliate against the Princess Consort for past mistreatment. On the contrary, she increased the allowances for her, ensuring everything was handled with grace and propriety—so much so that even Prince Ping praised her for being considerate and understanding.

When these things reached the Princess Consort’s ears, they made her so furious she nearly bled from them. How could that wretched woman Zhou Sichun be given such an opportunity?

But Fu Yanghong refused to even acknowledge her. The only person the Princess Consort could turn to was Fu Yi—his legitimate son, recently held in high regard. If Fu Yi were willing to plead on her behalf, this matter could still be resolved.

She had sent Madam Chang to seek him out many times, but Fu Yi always brushed it off vaguely, refusing to intercede. The Princess Consort had cursed him in private for being heartless and cold, no different from his father.

Still, curses were one thing. In the end, Fu Yi remained her only hope, her sole irreplaceable support within the prince’s household.

“Her Ladyship’s head pains have returned. She’s been lying in bed for days, refusing food and medicine. She’s grown visibly thinner. Young Master, mother and child are one at heart—how could you bear to see her suffer like this?”

Madam Chang wept bitter tears, pleading earnestly. Seeing that Fu Yi did not leave with a cold face as he usually did, she cried even harder. “Even in her illness, the Princess Consort thinks of you every day. No matter what she’s done wrong, her love for you has always been genuine.”

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“I’ll go see her.”

Fu Yi said nothing more, turning toward her courtyard. Madam Chang’s face lit up with joy as she followed close behind. This was it—so long as the young master was willing to plead for her, His Highness’s anger would surely subside.

But the moment they stepped into the courtyard and reached the outer door, a burst of angry curses erupted from within—Fu Yi’s name rang out loud and clear among them.

Madam Chang flushed with embarrassment. She hurried to explain as she quickened her pace toward the room. “Her Ladyship’s confused from illness. Being shut indoors day after day, it’s natural she’s grown resentful.”

She went in first to soothe the Princess Consort, and by the time Fu Yi entered, the woman on the bed had transformed into a frail figure, leaning weakly against the cushions as though even a few words might rob her of breath.

“Yi’er… you’ve come…”

The Princess Consort reached out to him, tears brimming in her eyes, her face the picture of fragile sorrow and helplessness.

Had Fu Yi not just heard her raging from outside, he might almost have believed it.

“Madam Chang said you were ill. Have you summoned a physician?”

“What need have I for doctors?” the Princess Consort murmured, dabbing at the corners of her eyes. “Now your father is angry with me and has handed all affairs of the household to Zhou Sichun. I’ve become a laughingstock in everyone’s eyes. I might as well die and be done with it.”

Tears slid down her cheeks. “It’s only that I can’t let go of you. If I’m gone, who knows how that woman will deal with you? Just the thought of it tears me apart—I don’t even dare die easily.”

Hearing this, Fu Yi simply instructed the servant beside him to fetch a doctor. But when the servant reached the gate and asked, he discovered that Concubine Zhou had already sent two doctors earlier in the day—both of whom had been driven away by the Princess Consort.

Fu Yi: “…”

The Princess Consort snapped bitterly, “What good intentions could she possibly have? How could I trust doctors she sent? For all I know, I’d be dead without even knowing how it happened!”