Hearing Nanny Qin's question, the maid also replied in a soft voice:
“It is late—usually it had been on time before.”
A changed palate, drowsiness, and a delayed monthly cycle—Nanny Qin began to form a suspicion in her mind.
Though she couldn't be certain, and since Lord Zhu was herself a physician and would surely know better than they did, still, to be on the safe side, Nanny Qin silently slipped into the bridal chamber and replaced the nuptial wine with water.
After seeing off the guests, Gu Zhao returned to the bedchamber.
The maid was stationed at the door, and all was quiet inside.
Nanny Qin, waiting in the outer room, came forward to meet him:
“Lord Zhu has fallen asleep—she slept through the afternoon.”
Gu Zhao nodded to her:
“No need to wake her. Did she eat?”
Nanny Qin replied:
“The meal arranged for today—Lord Zhu didn't care for it, as if her tastes had changed. She ate very little.”
Taking her words at face value, Gu Zhao said:
“Then have the cook prepare something new. You may all go out now.”
Nanny Qin gave him a look, but in the end said nothing, and quietly withdrew.
Once Nanny Qin and the maid had left, Gu Zhao pushed the door open gently and stepped inside—sure enough, there was Zhu Qingyu, clutching the quilt, sleeping soundly.
Her wedding dress was hung aside. She still wore her wooden hairpin, plain cloth clothes, no makeup, no jewelry—exactly as she had looked the first time he ever saw her.
And just like that first meeting, one glance was enough to seize Gu Zhao's attention, making it impossible for him to look away.
Drawing closer, he saw that her face was flushed red as she slept—red in a way that seemed almost unusual.
Could she be ill from overexertion today?
His heart tightened. He sat on the edge of the bed and reached out to touch her forehead—indeed, it was warmer than usual. He was about to rise and fetch a physician when Zhu Qingyu woke, grabbing his sleeve and mumbling drowsily:
“What time is it?”
Gu Zhao turned his hand to clasp hers, coaxing softly:
“It's the hour of xu. Are you ill? Let me call for a doctor.”
Zhu Qingyu sat up and looked at him:
“I am a doctor. What doctor would you call? I'm not sick—just a little sleepy. Isn't it time for the nuptial wine? I can't drink; swap mine for water.”
Without calling the maid back in to serve them, Gu Zhao handled everything himself—pouring wine for himself and water for Zhu Qingyu, then handing it to her:
“Then let's drink it quickly, and rest early for the night.”
He hadn't even asked why she couldn't drink.
When he should have been sharp, he was being so dense.
Zhu Qingyu smiled at Gu Zhao:
“Why don't you ask me why I can't drink?”
Vice Minister Gu, whose mind was already entirely occupied with the joy of the wedding night and who couldn't care less about anything else, said with utter reasonableness:
“Your tolerance for liquor is so light—if you got drunk on our wedding night, what then? Of course I won't let you have wine.”
The two of them drank. Then Gu Zhao frowned in confusion:
“How come mine is water too? Nanny Qin must have been distracted—she mixed it up somehow.”
But at a moment like this, these were minor matters. Gu Zhao had no time to fuss over them. Unfastening his own wedding robes, his eyes bright and shining as he looked at Zhu Qingyu:
“Wife, since you're not sick—then, then shall we rest?”
Sigh—even Nanny Qin had noticed, yet this man today was remarkably slow-witted.
Zhu Qingyu said:
“First, go fetch my medical text for me—up in the top clothes chest.”
Argh! At a time like this, why did she still want to read a medical text?
Gu Zhao had already half-undone his robes. At these words he felt like he was about to break down, refusal written all over his face and in his voice:
“Qingyu, can't the medical text wait until tomorrow?”
Zhu Qingyu was insistent:
"See now? You were worried I was sick, weren't you? Let me show you how to tell."
Lord Zhu was so eager to play the teacher, but Vice Minister Gu was in no mood to learn at that moment.
Disheveled and reluctant, Vice Minister Gu went to the clothes chest, fetched the medical manual, and climbed onto the bed to sit beside Zhu Qingyu. The hair that had taken half a year to grow back hung limp and drooping. He handed the book to Zhu Qingyu, his voice tinged with gloom:
"Can we learn this tomorrow instead?"
Zhu Qingyu opened the book, flipping to the page on the "slippery pulse," and asked:
"Are you sure you don't want to look? Are you sure you want to wait until tomorrow? Fine, then we'll talk tomorrow."
She made to close the book, but Gu Zhao had been certain—until a few words on the open page caught his eye.
There, written in black and white: "When the yin pulse surges and the yang pulse withdraws, it means a child is conceived."
Gu Zhao's hand shot out, quicker than lightning, pressing down on Zhu Qingyu's hand to stop her from closing the book. He stared at her in disbelief, his eyes growing brighter, and even his drooping hair seemed to spring up with renewed vigor:
"Learn now! Learn now! Teach me, quick, teach me!"
Zhu Qingyu grabbed his hand and placed it on her own wrist, instructing:
"A slippery pulse flows like a pearl, smooth and rolling. Can you feel it?"
Gu Zhao felt her pulse, lowering his voice as if speaking too loudly might scare something away. He asked with bated breath:
"Am I going to be a father?"
With the expression of a teacher pleased with a quick-witted student, Zhu Qingyu smiled:
"You learn fast, don't you, Vice Minister Gu? Yes—about a month and a half along. It was too faint in the early days, so I wasn't sure and didn't tell you."
I'm going to be a father!
Qingyu and I are having a child!
Mine! Mine! Mine!
Gu Zhao was stunned silly with joy. He threw his arms around Zhu Qingyu, laughing and flailing:
"Ah, I'm so happy! Qingyu! I'm so happy!"
He jostled her so much she felt dizzy and pushed at him:
"Stop shaking, stop shaking—head's spinning. Oof. Actually, now that the clinic is on steady footing and doesn't need me, I was thinking of making a trip back home this year. But now—"
At the word "home," Gu Zhao, who had been soaring on a wave of joy, plummeted straight down to earth. He hugged Zhu Qingyu even tighter, staring at her with stark panic on his face:
"Back where?!"
She was going back?
Back to the heavens?
How could she do this to him!
They had just gotten married, and now she was leaving him!
Gu Zhao felt his blood run cold. He wished he could fuse her into his very being. He nearly sobbed:
"Don't go!"
Zhu Qingyu could barely breathe, crushed in his arms. She couldn't push him off, so she swatted him on the neck:
"Let go! Let go! You're going to squeeze the life out of both of us!"
Gu Zhao quickly released her, kneeling on the bed and taking her hand, looking like he was genuinely about to cry:
"Qingyu, can you please not go back? We're married! How can you leave?"
His reaction was so extreme that Zhu Qingyu didn't quite understand:
"I just wanted to return to Shu for a visit—it's not like I wouldn't come back. What's gotten into you?"
Huh?
Come back?
Gu Zhao stared at Zhu Qingyu blankly, then pulled her into another embrace, pleading:
"Then promise me—no matter where you go, you'll always come back to me. I'll wait for you."
