Zhu Qingyu guessed that Gu Zhao was probably overly excited because they were getting married today.
That had to be why he was being so sentimental. Just the thought of her possibly going back had sent his emotions into such turmoil.
Zhu Qingyu gently returned Gu Zhao’s embrace and comforted him.
“All right. No matter where I go, I’ll come back.”
She had already agreed, but Gu Zhao—who was always sentimental, insatiable, and prone to breaking his word—was still not satisfied. In the space of a moment, he changed his mind again.
“That won’t do. What if you forget to come back? What if something else keeps you from returning? I have to go with you!”
It was such a trivial matter, yet he was treating it with such solemnity.
Zhu Qingyu found Vice Minister Gu especially adorably childish today. She released him and merely smiled at him.
“All right, all right, you can come with me. We won’t be able to go this year, and next year the baby will still be too young. The year after that, then—we’ll make a trip back to Shu. I’ll see how the Hui Medical Hall there is coming along. But what about you? What will you do? If you want to come with me, will there be a suitable post for you there?”
Both of them held imperial appointments, so even taking a trip far from home required a three-year plan.
Gu Zhao actually began making serious plans and replied, “How could there not be? The barbarians in the Three Western Border Regions have refused to submit and have been causing trouble all this time. His Majesty has been displeased with them for years. Before, the state treasury was not flush and there was not enough money for military expenses, so His Majesty had no choice but to tolerate them for the time being and could not launch a large-scale campaign. Once the salt reforms are put into effect this year and the salt taxes come in next year, how could His Majesty continue to tolerate such insolence? He’ll surely send troops to attack them. If I take that assignment, wouldn’t I be able to go with you? Ah, are you tired sitting like this while we talk? Sleepy? Lie down, lie down!”
On other people’s wedding nights, the newlyweds enjoyed a night of romance amid perfect beauty and bliss.
But because Zhu Qingyu was pregnant, the wedding night of Lord Zhu and Vice Minister Gu consisted of nothing more than lying under the covers, chatting, and sleeping. There was nothing else they could do.
In fact, Gu Zhao had been coming up with all sorts of ways to tease her lately, so Zhu Qingyu had already decided to give him a thorough lecture on the precautions to take during the first and final three months of pregnancy.
Yet once they lay down, Gu Zhao was impeccably well-behaved. He merely rested a hand lightly on her belly and asked expectantly, “Can it hear me when I talk to the baby?”
Perhaps everyone experiencing parenthood for the first time went through a silly stage like this. The questions they asked were all so amusingly naïve.
Zhu Qingyu did not laugh at him. She placed her hand over Gu Zhao’s and explained carefully, “It’s only the size of a mung bean right now, so it can’t hear you. It won’t be able to hear you until at least the sixth month. But before then—about three months from now—you’ll be able to feel it move if you put your hand here.”
Gu Zhao asked another question.
“When will it be born?”
Zhu Qingyu counted the days.
“Around the Beginning of Winter, I think. It’s hard to say. It could come a little early or a little late.”
Gu Zhao had many questions about the little life who would soon be joining them. But as they talked, he noticed Zhu Qingyu beginning to yawn and quickly ended the conversation. He gently put an arm around her and patted her back.
“Go to sleep, go to sleep. We won’t talk anymore. You need to get plenty of rest now.”
The weather in spring was neither cold nor hot—perfect for sleeping. Curled up in Gu Zhao’s arms, Zhu Qingyu soon drifted off.
Between a month and a half and four months of pregnancy, morning sickness was supposed to be at its worst.
But Zhu Qingyu was lucky. The baby she was carrying seemed especially well-behaved and considerate of its mother. From the warmth of early spring through the height of summer in May, apart from occasional nausea and drowsiness, she experienced hardly any morning sickness at all.
Since she was in good health, Zhu Qingyu continued going to the clinic every day to see patients and teach. In the evenings, Gu Zhao would escort her back to the governor’s residence, and she even had enough energy to continue writing her book before bed.
Once she finished writing, Gu Zhao’s favorite bedtime ritual was to place a hand on her belly, hoping the baby inside would interact with him.
But May arrived, and there was still no movement. Gu Zhao asked,
“It’s already been four and a half months. Shouldn’t it be moving by now? Why hasn’t it moved?”
“In theory, yes, but every person is different. It’s not absolute,” Zhu Qingyu reassured him. “Perhaps it simply has a calm temperament. Some babies start moving later than others.”
Gu Zhao gave Zhu Qingyu a meaningful look.
“Then it takes after you—like it came straight down from the heavens. Since it has such a steady temperament, how about we call it Gu Heng? ‘Like the enduring moon.’”
Zhu Qingyu loved the name’s meaning, with its sense of powerful, enduring vitality. And Gu Heng was suitably gender-neutral, fitting for either a boy or a girl, so she agreed at once.
Little Gu Heng was every bit as steady as its name suggested. From spring through summer, it showed no signs of movement—not in May, and not even during the scorching heat of June. Its pulse was perfectly normal, yet it remained tucked away in the womb, unwilling to move even a little.
Now even Zhu Qingyu began to worry, and she started taking measures.
Her pregnancy was beginning to show, so she cut back on the time she spent seeing patients and teaching at the clinic. Instead, she spent more time in the mornings and evenings walking slowly beneath the shade of the trees, cradling her belly and talking to Gu Heng. She hoped that exercise and the stimulation of her voice might arouse the baby’s curiosity and at least persuade little Gu Heng to get up and move around.
One day, halfway through a stroll in the garden behind the governor’s residence, a sudden torrential rain began to fall. Nanny Qin hurriedly led Zhu Qingyu into a pavilion to take shelter.
Summer weather was unpredictable. A thunderclap suddenly crashed down with a deafening roar.
The thunder struck so terrifyingly that everyone’s hearts lurched. Zhu Qingyu was startled as she stepped onto the pavilion’s stairs and nearly fell, frightening the attendants beside her half to death. Even Nanny Qin, who was usually unflappable, went pale with fright.
Amid a chorus of cries, the servants rushed to steady Zhu Qingyu and helped her into the pavilion to sit down.
Outside, fierce winds and thunder raged on, accompanied by flashes of lightning.
Yet with heaven and earth in such turmoil, little Gu Heng remained as steady as a mountain. Even if the sky were collapsing right in front of it, it would not stir in the slightest. It slept when it wanted to sleep—and continued sleeping now.
Zhu Qingyu truly had no idea what to do with this little one. Gently stroking her belly, she lowered her head and coaxed helplessly,
“Gu Heng, little Gu Heng, why don’t you move a little and let Mommy know you’re in there?”
When Zhu Qingyu spoke to Gu Heng before, she had gone along with the local customs and always called herself “Mother.”
But today, trapped in the pavilion by the torrential rain, she said “Mom” without thinking.
The instant those two words, “Mom,” emerged from the deepest recesses of her memory, it was as though they had activated some kind of command. Gu Heng suddenly turned over inside her womb and stretched, his tiny hand pressing through her belly against Zhu Qingyu’s hand.
Blazing sunlight poured down, so bright that Zhu Qingyu could hardly open her eyes.
But where had sunlight come from in the midst of thunder and lightning?
Zhu Qingyu raised her head and opened her eyes. Suddenly, a world of bustling traffic came crashing into view.
It was a world so familiar. Beneath the scorching sun, she was sitting on the bench at the bus stop outside her home.
Across the stream of traffic, on the opposite side of the road, someone stood holding a grocery bag, staring at her wide-eyed in disbelief.
It was her mother.
The bag slipped from her hand. Without a thought for the traffic, her mother sprinted toward Zhu Qingyu.
