The moon hung over the willow branches, and Kunning Palace was brightly lit.
The Empress had always been frugal, leading by example, and this year’s birthday banquet was no extravagant affair. The celebration was modest, attended only by a few noblewomen, imperial princes and princesses, and the imperial concubines for a night of merriment.
The atmosphere was lively, filled with music and dance.
Concubine Qian sat to the right of the Empress, dressed unassumingly, though her hands never stopped lifting her wine cup—she had already drained two large jugs of fine grape wine.
Noticing this, the Empress gently chided, "Concubine Qian, do not overindulge."
Concubine Qian flashed a tipsy smile, her still-beautiful face flushed crimson. "Your Majesty, let this humble one drink just one more cup. If I get too drunk, I’ll share your bed tonight."
The Empress sighed in resignation. Ever since the Emperor fell gravely ill, Concubine Qian had grown increasingly unrestrained—drinking heavily, indulging in gambling.
The Empress had come to realize that the decades of gentleness, humility, and demure grace Concubine Qian had displayed in the palace were nothing but an act.
As the night deepened and the banquet neared its end, an elderly nanny rushed in, dropping to her knees with a loud thud. "Your Majesty, joyous news!"
The commotion drew the attention of all the guests, who set down their cups.
The Empress asked, "What is it?"
The nanny announced, "Concubine Shen of Prince Yan's Mansion has given birth to twin sons!"
At the banquet table, Prince Yan’s wine cup slipped from his fingers and shattered on the floor.
Twins were an auspicious sign.
In an era of rudimentary medical care, even delivering a single child was perilous—bringing two into the world safely was nothing short of divine blessing.
The Empress rose swiftly, her voice trembling. "The ancestors have blessed us! The ancestors have blessed us! Quickly, prepare my carriage—I must go to Prince Yan's Mansion at once!"
Nanny Qian hurriedly advised, "Your Majesty, traveling at night may be inconvenient. Perhaps it would be better to visit tomorrow."
The Empress composed herself, pondering for a moment before ordering, "Send four experienced nannies to Prince Yan's Mansion to care for Concubine Shen and the children. Childbirth takes a toll—fetch the finest restorative medicines from the treasury and deliver them to her."
The palace servants hastened to carry out her commands.
Prince Yan could no longer sit still. He bowed to the Empress and took his leave, instructing Li Yao to stay the night at Kunning Palace while he and his Tiger Guards raced back to his mansion without delay.
The moon climbed higher, the night dark as ink. The banquet guests dispersed with mixed thoughts—Concubine Shen’s children had arrived at the most opportune moment, sharing the Empress’s birthday and being twin boys.
From this day forward, every time the Empress celebrated her birthday, she would remember her two grandsons. These infants, barely born, had already secured her unique favor and attention—their futures were assured.
Concubine Qian remained at the table, downing another hearty cup of wine. She suppressed a smirk, her eyes flashing with fleeting murderous intent and resentment.
In high spirits, the Empress dismissed the banquet, and the guests bowed before departing. Concubine Qian leaned on her maid’s arm, swaying slightly as she was carried back to her own palace in a sedan chair.
Once inside her chambers, she had barely finished a sobering tonic when Prince Heng arrived in haste.
"Mother, why did you send assassins to Prince Yan's Mansion?" Prince Heng demanded.
Concubine Qian set down the bowl and lazily lifted her gaze. "To kill Concubine Shen and the child in her womb, of course. Pity it failed."
Prince Heng said, "Killing Li Yuanjing would suffice."
The bedchamber fell silent. Concubine Qian slowly straightened, her sharp phoenix eyes scrutinizing her son.
She found his behavior odd and murmured, "Since when have you grown so soft-hearted? Prince Yan is your greatest rival. We’ve already crippled his other sons. The Empress intends to elevate Concubine Shen’s children—eliminating them would cut off her retreat."
It was the most strategic move.
Prince Heng clenched the white jade fan in his hand, his expression unreadable. "Mother, our situation is dire. Perhaps I should send you back to Southern Chu first."
A gust of wind rattled the window lattice outside—spring was nearing its end.
Concubine Qian rested her chin on her hand, smiling faintly. "The Empress of Southern Chu left us with a timeless truth—‘If you’re not dead, you’re fine. If you’re not fine, you’re dead.’ Yuan Li, if I die, take my ashes back to Southern Chu."
Life was short. One must live boldly.
Even if they failed, there was always one path left—death.
...
The night was pitch-black, the shops along Yanjing’s streets shuttered. Prince Yan led a contingent of black-armored cavalry at full gallop, their horses’ hooves pounding against the stone pavement.
The cold night wind whipped his cloak behind him. As they rounded a corner, a whistling arrow shot from the shadows.
Whoosh—
The projectile aimed straight for his steed.
Prince Yan drew his blade, deflecting the arrow, and reined in his horse. From the darkness emerged a squad of black-clad assassins, their blades glinting under the moonlight.
The Tiger Guards formed a protective circle around him. Prince Yan remained mounted, his muscular arm gripping the reins, his phoenix eyes glinting with lethal intent.
"Kill them all," he commanded coldly.
The clash of steel erupted in the alley, the metallic scent of blood thick in the air.
The crescent moon hung like a willow leaf in the sky as Prince Yan and his guards finally reached Prince Yan's Mansion. He strode swiftly toward the direction of Glazed Pavilion, but at the courtyard gate, he suddenly halted.
He removed his bloodstained black cloak and tossed it to a guard behind him.
"Your Highness, assassins infiltrated the mansion tonight. The guards have captured them," a Tiger Guard reported.
Prince Yan’s heart clenched.
There was no need to guess who had sent them.
"My lord, your arm is still wounded," the guard holding the cloak said worriedly.
Prince Yan replied, "It’s nothing."
He hurried into the chamber, completely oblivious to Liu Ruyan and Zhang Miaoyu standing at the entrance. Liu Qiao'er had slipped away the moment she heard of his return—she dared not face him, fearing he might rekindle old affections.
Seeing Prince Yan enter, Zhang Miaoyu stretched and yawned. "The prince is back, so I’ll retire for the night. Sister Liu, shall we walk back together?"
When she turned, she found Liu Ruyan in tears.
Silent sobs wracked her delicate frame.
Zhang Miaoyu frowned. "Why are you crying?"
Liu Ruyan closed her eyes, a tear slipping down. "He walked past me as if I were invisible."
Once, they had been inseparable, deeply in love. Now, time had eroded even the slightest glance from him.
Her heart ached as if pierced by a blade, tears falling like rain.
Zhang Miaoyu resisted the urge to bang her head against the wall. "Sister Shen just survived a brush with death—it’s natural for the prince to be preoccupied. Oh, stop crying already."
Here was Concubine Shen, having just endured childbirth, while Liu Ruyan wept in her courtyard—what would people think?
With a mix of pulling and coaxing, Zhang Miaoyu dragged the sobbing Liu Ruyan away.
...
Inside the main chamber, the metallic tang of blood lingered in the air. Two maids attended the bedside, while the imperial physician inspected medicines beyond the screen.
Two elderly nannies approached Prince Yan, presenting the swaddled infants. "Congratulations, Your Highness. The two young masters have arrived safely."
Prince Yan’s gaze fell upon the bundles—one child slightly plumper, the other thinner, their tiny faces wrinkled and red.
He and Shen Wei had brought new life into the world, yet instead of joy, a chilling dread gripped him.
"Take them away and care for them well," he ordered.
Nanny Rong placed the two newborn princes in the neighboring nursery, where wet nurses and maids attended to them through the night without a single mishap.
Prince Yan summoned the imperial physician and asked, "How is Concubine Shen?"
The elderly physician replied, "Your Highness, Concubine Shen's delivery went smoothly, but she lost too much blood. Her body is severely weakened and will require careful recuperation for at least two to three years to fully recover."
Prince Yan's emotions were complicated, yet there was a faint trace of relief—thankfully, Shen Wei had survived.
With weary steps, he returned to the bedchamber. Shen Wei lay quietly on the bed, unconscious, her face as pale as snow. Her lips were cracked and scabbed, likely bitten through during the agony of childbirth.
Her eyes remained shut, a soft velvet headband wrapped around her forehead for warmth, her breathing steady.
She looked so fragile, as if a mere gust of wind could carry her away.
Exhausted, Prince Yan sat by the bedside and slowly took Shen Wei's slightly cold hand into his. Her palm bore traces of blood where her nails had dug into her flesh. He fetched ointment and meticulously applied it to her wounds, his movements deliberate and careful.
When a maid entered with herbal medicine, she gasped in shock. "Your Highness, your arm is bleeding! This servant—this servant will fetch the physician at once!"
The physician arrived with his medicine chest, hands trembling as he cut open Prince Yan's sleeve. A deep gash ran down his right arm, nearly exposing the bone beneath, blood flowing relentlessly.
The physician hurriedly stanched the bleeding, applied medicine, and bandaged the wound, taking nearly half an hour to finish.
...
Shen Wei slept for an entire day before finally opening her eyes in the dim light of dawn. Her first sensation was heaviness—her eyelids, her entire body, as if weighed down by an anchor.
Then came the pain, radiating through her, especially in her abdomen, where it felt as though a meat grinder churned violently. Beyond the pain was an undeniable hunger, so intense her stomach seemed to press against her spine.
Her vision was blurred at first, but she faintly heard Cai Ping exclaiming, "The mistress is awake! Quick, bring the medicinal broth!"
Slowly, her sight sharpened, and she saw Prince Yan seated beside the bed. His tall frame loomed like a mountain, blocking the light. Hanging from the pale bed curtains were two small green pouches.
Seeing the green pouches, Shen Wei knew she had given birth to two sons.
"Weiwei."
She heard Prince Yan's voice.
Her lips parted slightly, her eyes reddening as she spoke, her tone both pleading and complaining, "Your Highness… is there any food? This concubine is starving to death…"
