Everything had happened far too suddenly. Gu Zhao had not yet recovered from the joy of Gu Heng’s birth when he saw blood staining the bed.
Zhu Qingyu, already weak from giving birth, had gone deathly pale. Her hands and feet were cold, sweat streamed down her face, and she visibly grew weaker by the second.
As she continued to lose blood, Zhu Qingyu grew colder and colder. Her vision spun, her heart pounded painfully, and she no longer had the strength even to speak.
All around her was Gu Zhao’s panicked voice.
“Doctor Tan! Doctor Su! Quickly!”
And Doctor Tan’s grave voice:
“This is bad—postpartum hemorrhage! Quickly, bring the Shengju Great Supplement Decoction!”
The medicinal decoctions needed for various emergencies had already been prepared in advance. The moment Zhu Qingyu had gone into labor, Nanny Qin had arranged for the kitchen to begin preparing them.
Thus, as soon as Doctor Tan called for the medicine, the Duchess of Dingguo had already ordered someone to bring it in.
Because Zhu Qingyu’s condition was so critical, someone took Gu Heng away.
Gu Heng had been sleeping peacefully beside her mother, but the instant she was carried away, she began wailing loudly.
The piercing cries pulled Zhu Qingyu back from the edge of unconsciousness.
She struggled to open her eyes, wanting to see Gu Heng.
Gu Zhao supported her, helping her recline against his chest as he fed her the medicine.
Su Mu tried to stitch up her wound, but the blood was flowing faster and faster, making it impossible to stop. This young miracle doctor whom Zhu Qingyu had personally trained was utterly frantic. She looked at her helplessly and cried,
“The blood is flowing too fast! What do I do? Doctor Zhu, what do I do?”
Zhu Qingyu had personally watched many patients die before her eyes because their illnesses could not be treated. Some had died quickly, while others had suffered for a long time. But no matter how long it took, every death made her feel more deeply that life was unpredictable.
Doctors were not gods. Being powerless was part of their everyday lives. Today, that helplessness had fallen upon her.
She knew exactly what was happening to her. Postpartum hemorrhage was the leading cause of death among women giving birth. Even in the modern world, with its advanced medical resources, the mortality rate was still high.
And here, what she desperately needed was a blood transfusion and a way to stop the bleeding—medical measures that were utterly impossible to obtain.
At the final moment of her life, the chaos around her seemed to fade into the distance.
Zhu Qingyu was not worried about Gu Zhao. She had loved him, and they had shared so much together. Yet in this world, he still possessed the finest family background, power, and appearance. He was only twenty-five, still so young, and he would have many choices ahead of him.
Perhaps he would grieve for a time, but sooner or later, he would have enough time to forget her, fall in love with someone else, experience another relationship, and live out a brilliant life of his own.
The two people she could not bear to leave behind were Gu Heng and her mother.
With what little strength remained in her hand, Zhu Qingyu pushed away the medicine in Gu Zhao’s hand and said,
“It’s useless. Shouming, let me hold Gu Heng. Everyone else, please go out. I have a few things to say to you.”
Seeing that she was preparing to give her last words, Gu Zhao could not believe it. He could not accept it.
How could everything have been fine only moments ago, and yet in the blink of an eye, they were about to be separated by life and death?
Gu Zhao looked urgently and desperately toward Doctor Tan, then toward Su Mu, and then toward Zhuang Min. He looked at each of the five or six physicians in the room, hoping to find even the slightest trace of hope in their eyes.
But there was none.
Everyone he looked at gazed back at her with the same helplessness. Su Mu was already crying uncontrollably, so distraught that she could barely stand.
There was no hope. There was not the slightest hope to be found here!
But she had come from the heavens. What if she returned?
If she went back, could she be healed?!
Nanny Qin was soothing Gu Heng, who was wailing in her arms. Gu Zhao took Gu Heng from her and ordered,
“All of you, go outside.”
Tears streamed down Nanny Qin’s face as she led the physicians and maids out of the room, gently closing the door behind them.
Zhu Qingyu took Gu Heng into her arms and held her weakly, lightly clasping her tiny hand.
As soon as Gu Heng returned to her mother’s arms, perhaps sensing the familiar scent, she opened her eyes and smiled at Zhu Qingyu.
The sight of Gu Heng’s smile made the pain in Zhu Qingyu’s heart even sharper. She could barely breathe.
Her daughter was still so small. She had not even had the chance to love her properly.
Zhu Qingyu pressed her own cheek against Gu Heng’s smiling face, feeling the softness and warmth of her child. She drew strength from that warmth and, even at the final moment, calmly said to Gu Zhao,
“Shouming, please love her and protect her for the rest of her life. Let her do whatever she wishes, and never let her suffer any grievances. Even if you remarry, you may love your future wife, but please don’t forget to love Gu Heng as well.
“After I die, don’t cremate me. Please make sure I’m buried in the Zhu family’s ancestral graveyard, with a stele erected over my grave. Just write: ‘Tomb of Zhu Qingyu.’ And for my epitaph, write: ‘She lived a good life.’
“Zhu Dashan knows where it is. Have him take you there. Promise me these two things, all right?”
Gu Zhao was kneeling beside her bed, his face streaked with tears. Clutching the hands of both her and Gu Heng, he choked out desperately,
“Qingyu, go back! Hurry and go back! Have your mother come get you! Once you return, you’ll definitely be cured!”
Go back?
But that was a place she could never return to.
Zhu Qingyu smiled and beckoned to him.
“Come here.”
Gu Zhao leaned closer, and a very light kiss landed on his cheek.
“Vice Minister Gu, I love you.”
The simple act of rising to kiss him had nearly exhausted all of Zhu Qingyu’s strength. She was on the verge of losing consciousness and could barely hold Gu Heng any longer.
Gu Zhao took his frail wife and newborn daughter into his arms. He felt as though he was going mad. He had never been this frantic in his life. He could do nothing but pray over and over in his heart.
“Bodhisattva, if you sent her here, why won’t you send her back?”
“Please send her back. Send her back. Send her back!”
“Even if I can never see her again in this life, please, just let her live!”
His prayers had no effect. Nearly delirious, Vice Minister Gu screamed and demanded through his grief,
“Bodhisattva, are you deaf?! Can’t you hear me?! Send her back! Let her go back! Send her back now!”
Zhu Qingyu had almost completely lost consciousness. She could barely hear Gu Zhao’s cries.
At the final moment of awareness, amid Gu Zhao’s anguished howls, Zhu Qingyu pressed her lips to Gu Heng’s face and whispered,
“Gu Heng, Mommy loves you.”
Gu Zhao had no idea how long he had been shouting. He did not even know when his arms had become empty.
Her blood still stained the bed, a shocking sight. It was impossible to imagine how a person could lose so much blood.
But Zhu Qingyu had vanished without a trace.
Only Gu Heng remained, crying once again in desperate, hungry wails.
Hearing Gu Zhao’s furious cries, the Duchess of Dingguo rushed inside.
“Zhao’er! How is Qingyu?!”
When she saw the empty bed, Gu Zhao kneeling beside it and staring at his palms, and Gu Heng crying at the top of her lungs, the Duchess of Dingguo was filled with shock and confusion.
“Zhao’er, where is Qingyu?”
Gu Zhao rose and turned around. His face was both tear-streaked with grief and twisted into a smile. Raising his empty palms toward the Duchess of Dingguo, he said,
“She’s gone back.”
