Wei Lindong forced a smile, stating she was in the palace keeping Her Majesty company.
The old lady took out a small carved gourd tied with a dark red sleeve and smiled while saying something. The two maids translated for Wei Lindong that it was a lucky charm from the old lady’s hometown, meant to bless and ensure many children and grandchildren—a gift for the Crown Princess.
Weilin felt embarrassed as the old lady had previously given Xi Yaya a hatchet-shaped pendant for peace and good fortune. Both items seemed to be cherished mementos of the old lady, and now she was offering them again. Weilin politely tried to decline, but the old lady firmly grasped her hands and pushed the items in front of her with a resolute and kind gaze.
Xi Linxuan returned to the Eastern Palace with furrowed brows and embraced her. “Yaya will be fine. After all, she is his own granddaughter.”
“I know, but I’m just afraid Yaya might feel upset,” Weilin replied softly.
“Shenbi, I promise you, nothing will happen. We won’t have any problems.” Xi Linxuan tightened his embrace, making Weilin nervous, as his words seemed to imply a sense of finality.
She was worried but couldn’t voice her concerns. Who would take such drastic steps if not pushed to the brink?
Vaguely, Weilin sensed something was about to happen.
After the incident, the Eastern Palace remained quiet for a long time, with Weilin’s visits restricted to about once a month, preventing her from seeing her daughter Yaya. Her mother-in-law seemed burdened with worries, and Weilin felt exhausted as she tried to comfort her.
As winter approached, Yan Capital experienced an abundance of sticky snow that irritated the heart, and the Eastern Palace mirrored its neglected master, lacking attention and warmth.
With the arrival of spring, Weilin was a month away from giving birth. Xi Linxuan often stayed by her side as they discussed naming their child.
“You’ve only chosen boys’ names. What if it’s a daughter again?” Weilin rubbed her belly.
“It’s a son, definitely a son. I’ve dreamed about it,” Xi Linxuan said confidently.
“Not all dreams come true. Do you really believe that?” Weilin laughed.
“When you were carrying Yaya, your belly was round. This time it’s pointy, so it must be a son,” Xi Linxuan retorted, crumpling a paper filled with names and discarding it. “Let’s use ‘Qi’. I hope he’ll have a long life like Qi Mountain and be as blessed as Qi Water.”
Weilin glanced at him. “It sounds good, but I fear some might read too much into it,” she replied, aware that Qi Mountain was the location of the imperial shrine, which carried significant implications.
“He’ll be the future crown prince and emperor. Using this character isn’t overstepping,” Xi Linxuan said.
Weilin’s heart skipped a beat as she looked at Xi Linxuan, whose expression was calm, as if what he said was ordinary.
Xi Linxuan bent down to meet her gaze, his warm hand gripping hers tightly: “As a husband and father, I don’t want my wife and children to suffer. It’s unfair. I know you don’t want me involved in this mess, but I have no way out. From the day the memorial was torn, we’ve had no retreat.”
Weilin silently held his hand, feeling anxious about their uncertain future. This path led to either life or death, with no room for compromise.
As her due date approached, Weilin’s belly became restless. She could barely lie down, spending nights dozing in the imperial chair. When labor came, she wasn’t in extreme pain, even managing to wait for the baby to be cleaned and brought to her.
The midwife said, “Congratulations, Princess Consort. It’s a little prince.”
Holding her son tightly, Weilin wondered: Little one, will you have the fortune to bear Yan Dynasty’s vast territory?
Xi Linxuan was overjoyed, almost losing composure as he embraced both mother and child: “Shenbi, our son…”
In the deep of night, Weilin awoke to find Xi Linxuan staring at their sleeping baby.
“If the baby wakes and sees your intense stare, he’ll be scared,” Weilin said.
Xi Linxuan laughed and tucked her in: “Shenbi, you’ve worked hard.”
“You’ve worked hard too, staying up all night watching over us,” Weilin noted, seeing his haggard appearance.
“Watching you both, I don’t feel tired. Sleep now. He’ll be crying for milk soon,” Xi Linxuan replied, blowing out most of the candles except for one dim light.
Later, the story continues with details about the child’s first month and palace events.
Uncertain of their location, the sedan chair descended amid rustling sounds. Wei Linxia felt uneasy and lifted the curtain, shocked by the scene outside. Though the moonlight was blocked by the pavilion, the falling shadows made her instantly understand what was happening.
“Your Highness, do not worry,” someone said in a relaxed tone.
It was Wang Ling. Relieved, Wei Linxia let down the curtain without a word.
Tonight, whether they would live or die was uncertain.
Was her daughter, Yaya, involved?
Suddenly, Wei Linxia recalled seeing Xi Linxuan in the main tent of the Rong Kingdom. Would this situation be repeated with Yaya?
Holding her son tightly, she prayed: Xi Qi, if you are blessed to take on this empire, you must protect your sister and keep her safe!
Soon, the sedan chair was lifted again, this time returning to the Eastern Palace. Wei Linxia recognized the light footsteps outside the curtain as those of Wang Ling.
A fair hand lifted the curtain: “The Prince says the Princess Consort is still in her postpartum period and should not be troubled. Please rest early.”
Wei Linxia got out of the sedan and looked around. The inner palace guards were as before, with no indication of the outside situation.
“Wang Qing, order all guards and palace staff to concentrate outside. Anyone who intrudes shall be executed,” Wei Linxia commanded.
“Yes, this subordinate obeys,” Wang Ling replied calmly.
Wei Linxia sat in the Eastern Palace conference hall, holding her child tightly. The outside appeared calm, but she sensed a tense and fearful atmosphere.
The names of everyone in the Eastern Palace hung by a thread.
Xi Qi, who usually cried at night, slept peacefully tonight, his expression serene.
The sky gradually brightened, tinted by the morning sun. Wei Linxia, who had been holding her child all night, now had slightly numb arms.
Suddenly, there was movement outside. Wei Linxia looked toward the hall doors and saw Wang Ling carrying a dark cloak that she recognized as belonging to Xi Linxuan. Pain pierced her heart.
“Wang Qing…”
“Your Highness need not worry. The little princess has returned,” Wang Ling smiled, placing the cloak on the table and revealing Xi Yaya, who was also sleeping soundly.
“The Prince… is he alright?” Wei Linxia anxiously stood up, feeling dizzy from sitting too long.
“Naturally, he is fine. Your Highness can be at ease,” Wang Ling assured her.
Xi Qi, who had been sleeping, suddenly burst into loud cries.
Wei Linxia furrowed her brow, “Was that night particularly dangerous?”
Fengshou mustered his courage and whispered, “Your Highness, the Prince didn’t want me to tell you to avoid worrying, but that night, if not for Wu Yanlü’s protection…”
“Wu Yanlü?” It was indeed an uncommon surname.
“Yes, I heard he was a Rong person who surrendered a few years ago.”
The Emperor and the Retired Emperor kept him as a personal guard because of his martial skills. “Your Highness, please don’t say I told you this, or the Prince won’t let me off,” Fengshou warned.
“Fengshou, you’ve become quite talkative. Go now; the Emperor is probably looking for you. Tell him I summoned you for a reward,” Wei Linxia replied with a smile. Fengshou thanked her and hurried away.
After he left, Wei Linxia pondered how to ask Old Lady Wu if she had a son named Wu Yanlü. If she did, she would be grateful for having sheltered her.
