"This whole thing is a coincidence. If it had happened a little earlier, I wouldn’t have cared about the Fu family at all..."

As Ning Yan spoke, he cast an indifferent glance at Bai Qingqing. She looked completely innocent—what did it have to do with her?

"The only son under the Ping Princess's knee might not actually be her own."

"What are you talking about?"

Bai Qingqing didn’t understand. "How could Fu Yi not be the Princess’s child? That’s the big secret?"

This sounded utterly absurd.

Ning Yan let go of her hand and pinched her soft cheek, his eyes narrowing dangerously. "Are you questioning me?"

Bai Qingqing: "…I’m not, I just... think it sounds too ridiculous..."

She caved immediately, smooth as flowing water, and reached up to tug his hand away. "Don’t pinch me. It hurts."

Ning Yan hadn't used any strength at all—barely enough to squash an ant—yet when he let go, her cheek still turned pink, leaving him inwardly amazed. How delicate could she be?

Bai Qingqing, aggrieved, rubbed her cheek as she asked, "How could Fu Yi not be the Princess’s child? In this world, what mother wouldn’t recognize her own son?"

"The midwife who delivered the Ping Princess’s child was sent away immediately after the birth, hidden for years under a false name, known to no one—until recently. Her good-for-nothing son racked up a mountain of gambling debt and got his leg broken. With nowhere else to turn, she went to Suiyun Pavilion and sold a secret: the child born to the Ping Princess back then was actually a girl."

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Ning Yan absentmindedly straightened his sleeve. "At the time, the Ping Prince’s favored concubine, Lady Zhou, had already borne him a son. The Ping Prince was delighted and doted heavily on the Zhou family, which was no minor house. Had he wished to elevate Lady Zhou, it wouldn't have been impossible. Luckily for the Princess, she gave birth to a legitimate son."

Bai Qingqing shivered at the revelation. She wasn’t slow-witted; she immediately grasped the stakes. If the Princess had wanted to secure her position, she had to produce a son—an heir. If she had borne a daughter instead…

Such an outlandish idea, yet the more she thought about it, the more it made perfect sense.

She couldn’t help but recall how, in her past life, the Ping Princess treated Fu Yi. The more she thought about it, the stranger it seemed. True, the Princess valued him—but it lacked the warmth her own parents showed their children. Even when speaking of Fu Yi, her tone had always been stiff, almost formal, as if she weren’t speaking of her own son, but merely of the heir apparent. She was even more affectionate when mentioning Lu Qingyun.

"Is this really true? Couldn’t there be some mistake? It just sounds too absurd..."

"What’s absurd about it?"

Ning Yan’s tone was maddeningly casual. "You just haven’t seen enough. Among the powerful and noble, a woman's worth often hinges on her son's. The Ping Prince was long criticized in whispers for spoiling his concubines. His Princess was married into the house for her family’s prestige, but Lady Zhou was his true favorite. Had the Princess borne only a daughter, he would have used it as an excuse to replace her—he would’ve done it without a second thought. And as for that midwife’s story, it’s not just empty talk. She left evidence behind to wring more silver for her son’s debts."

Bai Qingqing was stunned. Ning Yan’s temper might be unpredictable and his words often cutting, but what he said was never baseless. Could it be that Fu Yi truly wasn’t the Ping Princess’s child?

The thought was so shocking it nearly erased the old grief lingering in her heart from her previous life.

"Such a huge matter... would anyone else know about it?"

"That depends," Ning Yan said lazily, "on whether you want him to suffer or not."