Fu Yi’s hand, resting on his knee, clenched into a fist. He forced out the words with difficulty, “I didn’t know my mother would do such a thing. You have to believe me—I truly didn’t know. If I had, I would’ve tried to stop her.”

“I believe you didn’t know,” Bai Qingqing said calmly. “If you had, then I must have been blind in my last life.”

She had never doubted Fu Yi. Though he was blindly filial and emotionally distant, at his core, he was still a decent man.

“My mother has been confined to her courtyard by my father,” he continued. “I’m not trying to justify her. I just… feel deeply sorry.”

Bai Qingqing took a sip of tea to soothe her throat. “If you truly knew nothing about it, then it’s not your place to apologize.”

“No—it is. My mother did it for the sake of my marriage. She… wanted to find me a powerful alliance. That’s why she chose you. She was too desperate to outshine Concubine Zhou, too eager for me to win the title of heir. That’s why she resorted to such a reckless move. In the end, I can’t claim to be blameless.”

When the truth first came to light, Fu Yi had been at a loss for words. The fury churning inside him had nowhere to go. But she was still his mother—no matter how outrageous her actions, they had been done for his sake. He couldn’t bring himself to truly condemn her.

Bai Qingqing leaned her head on one arm, watching his tormented expression. She knew it well—knew how he’d always wrestled with this. Knowing full well that the Princess Consort was wrong, yet shackled by filial duty, always choosing forgiveness. No doubt she understood this about him, which was why she had grown bolder and more unscrupulous.

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“You’re right,” she said softly. “The Princess Consort did it for you. But not entirely for you.”

Fu Yi blinked, puzzled by her words.

A faint smile tugged at Bai Qingqing’s delicate lips. Fu Yi was the Princess Consort’s only pillar. Her tyranny within the prince’s manor stemmed from this one thing: a good son. A son who would never truly turn his back on her, no matter what she did.

But what if she lost that?

“In my last life, I always found it strange,” Bai Qingqing murmured. “I’ve seen many noble families, but never one where the mother showed so little regard for her own child’s feelings. As if your desires never mattered. As if all you ever needed to be… was the heir to Prince Ping.”

Bai Qingqing tapped her fingertip lightly against the table, almost absently. “So the Princess Consort didn’t do this for you. She did it for herself. What kind of family would you end up with through such a marriage—how could she not know? But it didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was the title of Prince Ping’s heir.”

“My mother… she did choose the wrong way, but still—”

“Parents love their children in different ways, that’s true. But if we’re being honest, the way she favored Miss Lu was far more moving. She planned and paved the road for her before I was even dead. Has she ever done that—for you?”

Fu Yi’s expression shifted sharply. He went silent for a long moment, and a shadow seemed to fall across his eyes. “Did you… find something out?”

“I don’t know anything.”

Bai Qingqing smiled again. “How could I know the secrets of your family? It was just a casual observation, nothing more.”

A seed of suspicion, once planted, always bore more fruit than outright truths. When one discovered something on their own, there was no room left for doubt. Fu Yi was no fool—on the contrary, he was quite clever. If he began to investigate, he would find something. That much was certain.

But Bai Qingqing knew when to stop. She didn’t let him dwell on it. Instead, she changed the subject.

“You said before that after that nursery rhyme surfaced, the case in the southwest was handed over to the Ministry of Justice. They reexamined the old files, sent men to investigate on-site, and found inconsistencies—then proceeded to charge and convict the Bai family. Is that right?”