After the emperor's death, Consort Wu became the center of attention.
Once she moved into Fengyi Palace, she never stepped out again. Xie Lin stationed imperial guards to heavily secure the palace, ensuring no one could harm the unborn royal heir.
Jiang Yunshu had only caught a glimpse of Consort Wu during the court ladies' funeral ceremony and hadn't seen her since.
In fact, no one outside Fengyi Palace had. Consort Wu knew too many wished death upon her child and dared not leave the palace grounds.
Though no one could see her, as her due date drew nearer, the entire palace watched and whispered about her.
Jiang Yunshu was no exception. She couldn't help but ask, "What if Consort Wu gives birth to a daughter?"
Xiaoman blurted out, "Even if it's a daughter, they'll swap it for a son."
Jiang Yunshu gasped—wasn't that tampering with the royal bloodline?
Did the Nine Thousand-Year-Old Lord have the audacity for such a thing?
After a moment's thought, she realized he absolutely did.
But just because the Nine Thousand-Year-Old Lord dared to do it didn’t mean they could speak of it. The truer such rumors were, the more dangerous it was to mention them!
Jiang Yunshu quickly warned her attendants, "I can't control what others say, but from now on, none of you are to speak of this."
She wanted to live—why court death?
Xiaoman immediately vowed, "I won’t dare say another word!"
Taoye and Zhezhi, having learned the fragility of life the hard way, were already cautious in every way.
From then on, whenever Jiang Yunshu or her maids overheard others discussing the matter, they would swiftly distance themselves.
Half a month later, on a clear winter night with a bright moon and sparse stars, Fengyi Palace suddenly lit up in the dead of night.
Across the palace, those who saw the glow understood—Consort Wu had gone into labor.
A young eunuch called softly at the door, "Lord Xie..."
Xie Lin woke at the first sound. He dressed swiftly and strode out, pausing only to glance back at Jiang Yunshu.
She remained deep in sleep, undisturbed by the commotion.
Xie Lin couldn’t fathom how someone could sleep so soundly—she wouldn’t even notice if she were murdered in the night.
When Xie Lin arrived at Fengyi Palace, the physicians and midwives were already prepared.
From the birthing chamber came occasional muffled groans.
The head physician immediately reported, "Consort Wu’s baby is in the correct position, and the child isn’t overly large. The birth should proceed smoothly."
"However, this is her first child. The labor has only just begun—it could take anywhere from a couple of hours to a couple of days."
Xie Lin had no patience to wait around.
After inspecting the arrangements inside and outside the chamber, satisfied that the physicians, midwives, and maids were all in place, he issued a warning:
"If the young prince isn’t delivered safely, you’ll all join him in death."
The staff trembled as they acknowledged his words.
The chief physician, sweating profusely, stammered, "I will spare no effort to ensure the prince’s safety."
Having made his threats, Xie Lin left the Weiyang Palace steward behind and returned to his own quarters.
Jiang Yunshu was still asleep. Xie Lin, now wide awake, had no desire to watch her peaceful slumber and instead retreated to his study.
By dawn, when Jiang Yunshu awoke, Xie Lin had already returned to Fengyi Palace.
She only learned then that Consort Wu had been in labor since midnight—an entire night of struggle.
Jiang Yunshu frowned sympathetically. "Starting labor in the middle of the night—how exhausting!"
Taoye gave her a helpless look. Did her mistress think everyone was like her? Who could worry about sleepiness while giving birth?
But Jiang Yunshu stood by her concern. Laboring at night surely meant less energy, and with the primitive medical conditions... She could only pray for Consort Wu and the child’s safety.
Meanwhile, in Fengyi Palace—
"Waaah—!"
The midwife held the newborn upside down, gently patting its back until the slightly blue-tinged infant let out its first cry.
She exhaled in relief. "Consort Wu has safely delivered a prince!"
Yet to the experienced midwives, the child was far from robust—small, frail, and slightly oxygen-deprived during birth. Whether this would affect him later remained to be seen.
Of course, no one dared voice such ill omens now.
When Consort Wu heard she’d borne a son, she struggled to sit up, reaching for the child. "The prince... my prince...!"
She had done it. Her son would be emperor from birth.
She would be the empress dowager!
Surviving such peril had its rewards—she was now the most powerful woman in the realm!
But exhaustion and overwhelming emotion overtook her. Before she could hold her child, she fainted.
The midwife hadn’t planned to hand the baby over yet. After carefully cleaning the newborn, she carried him out, kneeling before the Nine Thousand-Year-Old Lord and presenting the child with both hands.
Xie Lin glanced at the infant from a distance and wrinkled his nose in distaste.
The baby was hideous—wrinkled and still smeared with birth fluids.
With a dismissive wave, he ordered, "See that the young emperor is well cared for."
He left the Weiyang Palace steward behind with strict instructions: "Report immediately if anything happens to him."
An hour later, a panting eunuch rushed in.
"M-my lord...!" The eunuch’s face was pale from running.
Xie Lin asked lazily, "What is it? Has something happened to the young emperor?"
The eunuch froze at his indifferent tone. Did the lord want the child to perish?
He quickly dismissed the thought—such speculation was beyond his station!
"N-no, not the young emperor. It’s Consort Wu... The physicians say she shows signs of postpartum hemorrhage."
To the eunuch’s shock, while Xie Lin had been utterly unconcerned about the infant, his expression darkened at the news of Consort Wu’s condition.
Without delay, Xie Lin returned to Fengyi Palace.
The chief physician approached, cautiously seeking his instructions on how to proceed with Consort Wu’s treatment.
Though phrased delicately, Xie Lin understood immediately.
The physician was asking whether he wanted her to live or die.
Xie Lin scoffed. So much for the healer’s oath.
He knew little of obstetrics, but even he understood that postpartum hemorrhage was often fatal—every second counted in snatching a life back from death’s grip.
Yet not a single physician dared act without his permission.
He didn’t need to look at them to guess their thoughts. They assumed he’d prefer Consort Wu dead—one less obstacle to controlling the infant emperor.
Under their fearful gazes, Xie Lin spoke.
"Consort Wu will survive."
"If you fail, you’ll all join her in the grave."
The physicians hadn’t expected this. Immediately, they scrambled to employ every lifesaving measure.
This time, Xie Lin didn’t leave. He remained in Fengyi Palace, overseeing everything personally.
The imperial physicians spent a full two hours before finally managing to save Consort Wu.
Wiping the sweat from his brow, the chief physician reported to Xie Lin, "Consort Wu is out of danger now."
Xie Lin gave a curt nod and repeated his usual warning: "If anything happens to Consort Wu, none of you will escape the consequences."
With this threat hanging over them, the physicians took extra precautions, arranging a rotation to keep watch at Fengyi Palace.
Those not on duty for the day were dismissed to rest—among them, Physician Zhu.
As he stepped out of Fengyi Palace, he couldn’t help but pause and glance back.
A fellow physician noticed and asked, "Is something the matter, Physician Zhu?"
Shaking his head, Physician Zhu averted his gaze. "Nothing at all."
He walked on with an unreadable expression, though his mind drifted to a dark secret he had heard as a child—a tale buried deep within the palace walls.
Over twenty years ago, the then-empress had given birth to a son within these very halls.
At the time, Physician Zhu’s uncle had served as an imperial physician.
Shortly after delivering a healthy prince, the empress succumbed to a fatal hemorrhage.
And the newborn prince… vanished without a trace!
The palace was turned upside down in search of the infant, yet he was never found.
Within a few years, the emperor passed away, and the eldest son—born to the imperial concubine—ascended the throne. That son was the late emperor who had died earlier this year.
Upon his coronation, the new emperor buried the scandal, rewriting the palace records to claim the empress had delivered a stillborn child.
Physician Zhu’s uncle met no peaceful end.
Every soul who knew the truth had since perished. As a child, Physician Zhu had been deemed too young to remember—no one would have guessed his uncle had whispered the secret to him.
But Physician Zhu had always been precocious, with an uncanny memory. Every word his uncle spoke remained etched in his mind.
Today, standing in Fengyi Palace, witnessing another case of hemorrhage, the old memory resurfaced.
He realized he might now be the last living soul who knew the truth.
Against his better judgment, he turned once more to gaze at the grand silhouette of Fengyi Palace.
Where, he wondered, was that long-lost prince now?
Physician Zhu chuckled at his own foolishness. What was he thinking?
That child must have died long ago.
