"What scent are you talking about? We have all kinds of incense in the manor. If one happens to catch your fancy..."

"The one they used in the warming chamber. The one that lured Bai Qingqing in and locked us together in that room. That incense."

The smile vanished from the princess consort’s face. She stared at Fu Yi for a long moment before sighing softly. "Everything I did was for you. Yet now you look resentful—are you here to hold me accountable?"

"Don’t tell me you don’t like Bai Qingqing. A mother knows these things. And the Bai family is the one I’ve set my sights on. If it works out, wouldn’t everyone be happy?"

Fu Yi found the woman before him completely unfamiliar. Disbelief clouded his eyes. "This is your method? Are you trying to arrange a marriage or sow hatred? How could you—how dare you manipulate a girl’s reputation like this!"

The princess consort gave a cold laugh. "Why couldn’t I? If Bai Qingqing had any sense, would I have gone to such trouble? If not this time, then next. Once I decide on something, it must succeed."

"And I’m part of your scheme too?"

Her tone softened. "How could you think that? Isn’t everything I do for you? The Bai family is your best option. Your father says the same. They're stronger than the Mo family. As long as you..."

"So to you, I’m just a pawn for the title of heir. My will, my thoughts—they mean nothing?"

Fu Yi’s eyes were icy as he stared at her. Why hadn’t he seen it in his past life? He’d always believed his mother truly had his best interests at heart. But maybe, just maybe, what she cared about was never him—only the title of Shizi.

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"Do you really see me as your son? Or am I only worthy of being your son if I become the heir? Am I truly your flesh and blood?"

Pain twisted Fu Yi’s features—but what he saw on the princess consort’s face was a flash of panic, fleeting and almost imperceptible. Almost as if he’d imagined it. But he knew what he saw.

"You silly child, what nonsense are you talking about? You've only just woken up. Focus on getting better first. I won't disturb your rest."

The princess consort hurried away. Fu Yi lay on the bed, lost in thought, his mind drifting in a haze, as though trying to grasp at something just beyond reach.

...

Bai Qingqing knew perfectly well that arguing with the Prince of Ping’s household would lead nowhere, and she had no interest in whatever explanation Fu Yi thought he owed her.

She hadn’t told her parents about the incident. She had no evidence, and Fu Yi would never help her confront the princess consort. It wasn’t that she didn’t feel hatred in her heart—she did. But she didn’t see the point in futile rage, nor did she want to risk her parents losing control in their anger.

Besides, she had no time for distractions. Her shop was about to open.

She named it Qingxin Pavilion. The decor was elegant and distinctive, with a warm and simple storefront, free of gaudy embellishments.

On the opening day, the pavilion was bustling with visitors. Friends who’d heard the news came to show their support. Bai Yaoyao and Bai Rui each brought their own circle along. Bai Qingqing was so busy entertaining guests she barely had time to breathe.

"Big Sis, you thought of all this yourself? It’s so pretty! Way nicer than all the other spice shops!"

Bai Yaoyao was the type to sing her sister’s praises without reserve, gushing in front of her friends until Bai Qingqing grew embarrassed. She’d prepared plenty of samples for them to take home and try.

The stream of well-wishers was endless, and gifts kept pouring in. Bai Qingqing barely had time for anything else. It wasn’t until she sat down to sort through the list later that she noticed—Ning Yan had sent a gift too.