That evening, after finishing his urgent official business, Xiao Chengjing arrived at "Jinwei Ji" in a flurry of activity, by which time the moon was already high in the sky. He did not disturb anyone, but only had his guards announce his arrival.

Shen Yuewei was not yet asleep; she was looking through the patterns of the new fabric that her second brother had sent over by someone under the lamp.

Xiao Chengjing entered the small hall, his brows furrowed with lingering weariness, but his eyes softened the moment he saw Shen Yuewei. He carried a heavy bundle.

"I am aware of your elder brother's marriage. This is a small gift from me; please keep it and present it to me on his behalf." He pointed to the bundle, which was clearly a gift prepared for Shen Wenqing and He Mingshu, of considerable value and thoughtfulness.

"Thank you, Your Highness." Shen Yuewei thanked him, but seeing the weariness on his face, she hesitated for a moment before asking, "Your Highness... is something wrong in the capital?" She thought of the hidden worries about the Empress in her mother's letter.

Xiao Chengjing's gaze sharpened, and he gave her a deep look, without denying it: "Yes. Some clowns can't hold back anymore."

He didn't say it explicitly, but Shen Yuewei understood. It seemed he not only knew about the situation with the Empress, but was also dealing with it. His current exhaustion was probably not just due to the case in Jiangnan.

"Your Highness... please take care of yourself," Shen Yuewei said softly, pausing for a moment as soon as the words left her mouth. This concern... seemed a bit presumptuous.

Xiao Chengjing clearly noticed this unusual concern, a hint of warmth and a barely perceptible smile flickering in his tired eyes. "It's alright." He paused, his gaze falling on her abdomen. "How is he today?"

"Very good, very obedient." Shen Yuewei's hand unconsciously touched her belly.

"That's good." Xiao Chengjing seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. "You should get some rest." He didn't linger. He left his congratulatory gift and, just as he had come, disappeared silently into the night.

Shen Yuewei stood by the window, watching his tall, straight figure disappear into the moonlight, her heart churning with complex emotions. There was joy for her elder brother's marriage, worry for the Empress's situation, a touch of heartache for his hard work, and... a subtle growing dependence and concern that she herself hadn't fully realized.

She recalled his clumsy acts of care (bringing soup and books), his quiet protection (standing up for Wensong), his tilted umbrella in the rain, his focused gaze while playing chess, the congratulatory gift he sent late at night, and his words "take care of yourself"... These little things formed a stark contrast to the cold indifference of her previous life.

What troubled her even more were the increasingly vivid fragments of her dreams—the Eastern Palace of her past life, the care she had overlooked, hidden in the darkness: the whispered instructions outside the window late at night, the warm soup and candied fruit that quietly appeared on the table… If all of that was real, then was Xiao Chengjing of her past life not entirely heartless? Was it just that there were too many misunderstandings, schemes, and unspeakable shackles of identity between them?

With her hand gently stroking the stable baby in her womb, Shen Yuewei seriously considered for the first time: In this life, is it possible for her and Xiao Chengjing to... take a different path? No longer endless resentment and cold palace walls, but like her elder brother and Miss He, starting with scheming (at the palace banquet), but perhaps leading to true love?

"Baby," she whispered to the little life in her womb, her voice as soft as a sigh, "If...if Daddy is really trying to change, shouldn't Mother...try to believe again?"

The night breeze of Jiangnan, carrying the fragrance of lotus ponds, gently brushed against the windowpane. Shen Yuewei's heart, once as calm as a mirror, was now stirred by a pebble named "Xiao Chengjing," creating ripples of "wavering," "expectation," and "possibility." Meanwhile, the undercurrents in the capital, the investigation in Jiangnan, and the impending new life within her womb...