The South Garrison Marquis's Mansion had pledged allegiance to Prince Heng, who highly valued Zhao Qing’s exceptional talent for crafting weapons. Recently, Prince Heng had repeatedly urged her to develop a large-scale weapon of mass destruction.
Zhao Qing feigned composure, picking up a piece of pastry from the table. "I'm in a bad mood. I don’t feel like drafting designs."
Without the Taihua Notes, Zhao Qing couldn’t conjure any ideas for weapon designs. A vague premonition gnawed at her—her days of comfort were numbered.
Unable to salvage her crumbling situation, she resigned herself to indulgence, savoring what little luxury remained.
One more day alive is one more day earned.
Shangguan Xuan softened his tone, coaxing her gently. "A-Qing, please help me. If Prince Heng succeeds, our marquisate will regain its former glory."
Zhao Qing swallowed the pastry, unmoved. "Do you think inspiration grows on trees? I’m not in the mood to design weapons right now."
Shangguan Xuan clenched his fists, staring at the woman before him with icy disappointment. Had I known how difficult she’d be, I’d never have married her.
Words failed him. In a fury, he stormed out.
Zhao Qing didn’t even glance up, leisurely continuing her snack. Moments later, Shangguan Qian barged in, fuming.
At the sight of Zhao Qing’s expensive silk dress and the exquisite white jade hairpin, Shangguan Qian’s eyes burned with envy.
"Elder sister-in-law," she grumbled, "I’m attending Prince Heng’s flower-viewing banquet tomorrow. Lend me some silver—I want to buy the new face powder from Qixiang Studio."
Zhao Qing didn’t miss a beat. "No."
Shangguan Qian stamped her foot. "The Emperor rewarded you with so much gold! What’s the harm in sharing a little? You’re so selfish! Don’t think I won’t tell Elder Brother to divorce you!"
Zhao Qing rolled her eyes. "I’d love to be rid of Shangguan Xuan. Who do you think you are—a princess? Why should I give you money for nothing? Only beggars demand handouts."
Shangguan Qian’s face flushed scarlet, as if slapped. She stammered, "You—you—!"
Her hatred for Zhao Qing deepened. If only Sun Qingmei were still here… She’d never speak to me so cruelly.
Zhao Qing, irritated by Shangguan Xuan’s presence earlier, sneered. "Useless fool. If not for your birthright, you’d have been sold off long ago."
Tears welled in Shangguan Qian’s eyes as she fled in humiliation.
With her afternoon peace shattered, Zhao Qing’s mood soured further. The marquisate felt more like a den of wolves than a home. After a moment’s thought, she summoned her four maids. "Pack my things. I’m staying at the estate for a few days. Bring all my silver—I won’t let those vultures steal a single coin."
Every fox in the marquisate eyed her wealth greedily.
The carriage departed through the rear gate, luggage swiftly prepared. Inside, Zhao Qing counted the dwindling gold in her pouch. As they rounded a corner, the horses suddenly shrieked.
"Marquise," a guard’s icy voice called from outside, "Prince Heng requests your presence."
Zhao Qing’s grip on the gold tightened. After a pause, she let out a resigned, almost relieved chuckle.
Stolen fortune must always be repaid. Every gift from fate comes with a hidden price.
---
Prince Yan’s Mansion, Kunyu Courtyard
The Princess Consort’s mood had been foul for days. She never imagined Shen Wei’s luck would be this strong—a daughter first, then twin sons in the second birth!
Crash!
The vase before the shrine shattered, porcelain shards slicing her hand. Maids scurried in, heads bowed, sweeping the debris with practiced ease.
"Twin sons… twin sons," the Princess Consort muttered, collapsing onto the floor. In the dim shrine light, her tearful gaze fixed on the white jade statue of Guanyin.
In less than three years, Shen Wei had not only monopolized Prince Yan’s favor but also borne him three children. With such a foundation, her position in the mansion was unshakable.
Worse—if Prince Yan ever wished it, he could elevate Shen Wei to primary consort. Her sons would then supplant mine as heirs to the princedom.
"Your Highness, don’t despair," Granny Liu entered, her voice a mix of pity and helplessness. She helped the Princess Consort up, offering warm tea. "You are the Tantai family’s rightful daughter. No one can displace you. Madam Tantai sent a message for you."
The Princess Consort looked up. "What message?"
Granny Liu whispered, "Wait with patience."
A bitter laugh escaped her. "Wait? How kind of Mother. I’ve been humiliated by that Shen woman, confined to this courtyard for a year! And she tells me to wait? For what? My corpse to be carried out? For Shen Wei’s brats to inherit everything?"
Granny Liu soothed, "Madam Tantai sees further than we do. If she advises this, there must be a reason."
The Princess Consort shook her head.
She couldn’t wait. Every day, Shen Wei’s sons grew stronger.
If my family won’t act, I’ll solve this myself.
---
After the Birth
Since delivering her twins, Shen Wei had been plagued by relentless discomfort.
For days, her back ached, her stomach cramped, cold sweats drenched her despite the heat, and midnight nausea struck without warning. The pain was so severe, she felt half-dead.
Even potent tonics and pain-relieving herbs brought little relief.
After five agonizing days, the symptoms eased slightly. With a maid’s support, Shen Wei attempted short walks, though lingering pain cut each effort short.
A grueling fortnight passed before she felt somewhat human again. During her confinement, the twins thrived under the Empress’s watch—court physicians checked them daily, and seasoned wet nurses ensured their care.
Two Months Later
On a stifling night, Shen Wei lay awake, staring at the plain bed canopy. Her postpartum insomnia had worsened, and her restlessness roused Prince Yan.
Having witnessed her suffering these months, Prince Yan tenderly clasped her hand. "The physicians said hot springs aid postpartum recovery—warming the womb, dispelling chill, and restoring energy. Tomorrow, I’ll take you to the mountain villa."
After a pause, Shen Wei agreed.
Two months indoors, healing in the Glass Pavilion while tending the babies, had wearied her. With her wounds nearly healed, the hot springs promised respite and fresh air.
At dawn, Prince Yan had the carriage readied. Cai Lian and Cai Ping packed meticulously.
Yet Shen Wei hesitated to leave the twins behind. She summoned Nanny Rong and the wet nurses. "Take the children to the palace. Entrust them to the Empress."
These days, the Empress was the only one she truly trusted.
When she gave birth, assassins had stormed into Prince Yan's Mansion. Though the intruders were captured, Shen Wei remained shaken. Sending the children to the imperial palace was the safest option.
Nanny Rong nodded. "Rest assured, my lady. This servant will personally accompany them to the palace. Please focus on recuperating and restoring your health."
The servants of Liuli Pavilion worked efficiently. Under the escort of guards, the carriage carried Shen Wei's three children to the palace. Only after receiving word that they had arrived safely did Shen Wei set out in her own carriage for the hot spring villa in the outskirts.
...
The confinement period had been stifling. Finally able to step outside today, Shen Wei was in high spirits. The lively calls of street vendors outside the carriage filled her with a sense of ease and freedom.
So far, her life had gone according to plan.
Next, she intended to raise her three children well, ensuring they grew up safely and smoothly inherited Prince Yan's legacy.
In at most twenty years, she could retire to a carefree life as a leisurely dowager princess consort. Every overworked laborer’s dream was retirement!
"Candied hawthorns~"
"Candied hawthorns, sugar-coated haws~"
The cries of a street vendor drifted into the carriage. Shen Wei lifted the curtain and asked a guard to buy two sticks of candied hawthorns. She handed one to Prince Yan with a bright smile. "Your Highness, try this. It’s very sweet."
Shen Wei had recovered well after childbirth—her face had slimmed down, though her skin remained fair. Dressed simply in light clothing with only a white jade hairpin adorning her hair, she looked refreshingly elegant.
Prince Yan chuckled, his eyes brimming with affection. "You’re a mother now, yet you still snack like a child."
Shen Wei tilted her head playfully. "There’s no one else around. Why should I stand on ceremony?"
Her words were filled with trust in Prince Yan.
Amusement rippled in his gaze.
He watched her intently—every smile, every movement—as if his heart had been gently brushed by soft feathers. When he first met Shen Wei in Fangfei Courtyard, Prince Yan never imagined that such a delicate woman would take such deep root in his heart.
During Shen Wei’s two-month confinement, undercurrents had surged in the Da Qing court. The Crown Prince and the Emperor had fallen gravely ill, unable to rise from their beds, with only days left.
A storm was coming, and the capital would soon be drenched in blood. Prince Yan’s greatest worry was Shen Wei. Using the hot springs as an excuse, he sent her to the secluded villa for protection.
Once the crisis passed, he would bring her back.
The carriage moved swiftly, soon leaving the capital and speeding down the broad official road.
Halfway through the journey, the distant outline of the mountain housing the hot spring villa came into view. Inside the carriage, Prince Yan calmly explained, "Weiwei, today I’m taking you to the hot spring villa. Rest there for a while, and I’ll send someone to fetch you later—"
Before he could finish, the sharp whistle of arrows pierced the air outside.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
Hidden arrows struck deep into the carriage walls. Startled, Shen Wei dropped the half-eaten candied hawthorn in her hand.
Assassins?
Before she could react, Prince Yan whispered urgently, "Stay inside. Don’t move."
