My System Is Three Thousand Years Early

Wu Yuemei’s steps halted, and she stood frozen as if struck by lightning.

When she regained her composure, Wu Yuemei hurriedly turned to the noblewoman beside her and asked,

"Yuexin, Xuan Yao, do you know something? Is the Princely Heir mentioned by the storyteller my son?"

Wu Yuemei’s hands were tightly clasped together, her knuckles turning slightly white.

Upon being questioned by Wu Yuemei, the several noblewomen’s expressions turned even more troubled, unsure of how to respond.

On their way here, they had tried to avoid places with idle gossip as much as possible. Passing by the teahouse by chance, they thought it was uneventful. How could they have expected to encounter a storyteller mentioning the Princely Heir?

This made them feel helpless,

and they couldn’t help but feel a spurt of anger towards the storyteller on stage.

But right now, dealing with that storyteller was secondary.

How should they respond to Wu Yuemei now?

The high-ranking noblewomen of the capital suddenly found themselves unable to speak.

Mrs. Xue, who was following closely beside Wu Yuemei, couldn’t bear to watch and quickly tugged at Wu Yuemei’s sleeve. "Madam, let’s go back. These people are probably talking nonsense..."

Wu Yuemei shook off Mrs. Xue’s arm with a jerk.

Mrs. Xue, caught off guard, fell to the ground.

Looking down at the fallen figure of Mrs. Xue, Wu Yuemei felt a stab of pity. Although she was technically a servant, they were as close as sisters. Wu Yuemei didn’t hesitate to quickly help her up.

But her expression soon turned cold.

"What exactly are you all hiding from me?"

"What does that storyteller mean by his words?"

"Is the Princely Heir he’s talking about my son Guanger?"

Wu Yuemei finished speaking.

The lips of the noblewomen present parted slightly, their resplendent faces exchanging glances, all hoping the other would speak, but none were willing to start.

Wu Yuemei took a deep breath, "Fine, if you won’t talk, I’ll find out for myself."

Saying so, she was about to lift her skirt and storm up to the stage to drag the storyteller down.

In this moment, Wu Yuemei’s usually spoiled princess demeanor became partially visible.

The noblewomen couldn’t react in time.

But Mrs. Xue quickly grabbed hold of Wu Yuemei, her voice pleading, "Madam, let’s return home. I did not purposely conceal anything from you."

"It’s just that, at the moment, there is no news of the Princely Heir. These storytellers are all spouting nonsense. If it were not for His Majesty’s opposition to literary inquisition, those who dared to speculate about the Princely Heir would have had their heads chopped off countless times, they wouldn’t dare speak like this."

Wu Yuemei’s body tensed slightly as she slowly turned her head, her eyes trembling as she stared at Mrs. Xue.

She had understood Mrs. Xue’s words.

Mrs. Xue had admitted it.

The Princely Heir mentioned by the storyteller was indeed her son Guanger.

In his story... had Guanger been assassinated... and was now deceased??

This thought sent Wu Yuemei’s world spinning, her legs threatening to give way beneath her.

"Madam."

Mrs. Xue quickly stepped forward.

Wu Yuemei shook her head, signaling for Mrs. Xue to let go of her, then fixed her gaze on the noblewomen around her.

Before Wu Yuemei could speak, they hastened to console her:

"Yuemei, it must be alright. The Princely Heir has so many guards around him, how could outsiders assassinate him?"

"That’s right, the Princely Heir is so capable. It was he who dealt with the crown prince’s matters recently."

"We shouldn’t worry. There’s no confirmation yet. They haven’t even found the Princely Heir’s body, so maybe there’s no trouble at all."

Wu Yuemei shook her head, took a deep breath, and remained composed rather than overtly grief-stricken.

"You don’t have to comfort me. I’m fine."

Wu Yuemei glanced at the few noblewomen, her desire to continue shopping gone. She walked toward the distant street, ready to return to Duke Zhen’s Mansion.

"Mrs. Xue, we’re going home."

Mrs. Xue, taken aback for a moment, then bowed slightly to the noblewomen and hurried to keep pace with Wu Yuemei as they headed for Duke Zhen’s Mansion.

Along the way,

Mrs. Xue closely observed her mistress’s condition.

There was no news of the Princely Heir at the moment.

While it was still possible he was alive,

any perceptive person could see

that the Princely Heir might very well have encountered disaster.

Currently, the Family Head, with an excuse from His Majesty, was strictly prohibited from leaving the capital city, unable to go out and investigate whether the Princely Heir had met with trouble or to find the assassin.

Everyone was shrouded in a fog of uncertainty.

The Family Head didn’t know why Your Majesty did this, but he could only obey.

At the same time, he did not want this information to be known by Wu Yuemei.

He reminded himself to be extra vigilant.

However, just after a day had passed, he failed to keep it a secret.

Mrs. Xue sighed, feeling just as bad when she learned the news, with a heavy heart.

But she also knew, her mistress would be a hundred times, a thousand times more upset than herself.

Mrs. Xue had thought that Wu Yuemei would be crying incessantly, wailing in sorrow at this time.

Yet, to her surprise, Wu Yuemei did not show any excessive grief, aside from the undeniable fatigue in her eyes.

Aside from that, she looked no different from usual.

It was abnormal.

Mrs. Xue knew this was not how her mistress would normally react to such a situation.

Could it be that the mistress knows the Princely Heir is still fine, which is why she’s not at all sad?

Mrs. Xue pondered in her heart.

Both of them returned to Duke Zhen’s Mansion in silence.

Upon entering the courtyard.

Wu Yuemei sat at the table, and Mrs. Xue hurriedly brewed tea for her, bringing a cup of fragrant clear tea to Wu Yuemei.

"Mistress, have some tea."

Wu Yuemei nodded slightly, took the tea, and then looked up at Mrs. Xue, asking, "Where is Cheng Zhihai?"

Mrs. Xue was taken aback by the question.

Wu Yuemei seldom addressed Cheng Zhihai in such a manner, even on the rare occasions she did, she never sounded as calm as she did now.

Mrs. Xue’s heart tightened, and she hurriedly said, "The Family Head is currently at the Bureau of the Lamp, he cannot leave the Capital city, so he ordered Qian Siyuan and Li Zhengyang to lead people in search of the Princely Heir."

Upon hearing this, Wu Yuemei nodded again, slightly rubbing her forehead as if pained.

Mrs. Xue quickly stepped forward, gently pressing Wu Yuemei’s forehead.

After a moment of silence,

Wu Yuemei suddenly spoke up.

"Mrs. Xue, do you think Guanger is really gone?"

"My Guanger, is he really, just, no more."

Wu Yuemei’s tone remained even, unrippled.

Yet it made Mrs. Xue’s heart flutter.

"Mistress, of course, the Princely Heir is blessed by the heavens, he won’t meet with misfortune, he hasn’t returned yet, maybe he’s just delayed by some matter."

Wu Yuemei nodded slightly, "It might indeed be so."

"Guanger is a playful child by nature, it’s normal for him to be distracted by something interesting and not return for a while."

"But this time he went to fetch his bride, he shouldn’t be dawdling about. When he comes back, I’m going to give him a good scolding."

As Wu Yuemei spoke, one hand resting against her forehead, her eyelids drooping.

Her voice grew weaker and weaker.

Mrs. Xue, who was gently pressing Wu Yuemei’s forehead, suddenly noticed, through the tips of her fingers, a cold wetness.

She looked down. n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

And discovered,

that tears had begun to glitter in the corners of Wu Yuemei’s eyes, trickling down to her own fingers.

"Mistress..." Mrs. Xue’s heart trembled.

Wu Yuemei seemed to realize something too, quickly wiping away the tears and smiling, "Ah, Mrs. Xue, why am I crying, it’s nothing."

"That’s right, Guanger will soon be back to get married, I need to tidy up the wedding chamber for him, and all the details of the wedding need to be arranged. I’ll be very busy during this time."

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As she spoke,

Wu Yuemei’s emotions began to fray.

"So busy..."

Her red lips quivered, struggling to speak.

Mrs. Xue was moved.

She wanted to say something, that the Princely Heir would be fine, but she herself could scarcely bear to deceive her mistress further.

How could this be...

What to do.

The Princely Heir was doing well, how could something have happened to him?

Who would attempt to assassinate the Princely Heir?

Mrs. Xue couldn’t understand.

...