Hua Chun paused, looking him over carefully from head to toe, then nodded.
He Chang’an had a refined and elegant appearance—at first glance, he seemed like a gentleman of noble bearing, warm and gentle as jade. On closer acquaintance, he seemed to possess considerable depth, concealing much beneath the surface. To describe someone like him with jade alone felt too shallow a comparison—which was exactly why the title the emperor had given him was so fitting: Gongyu, meaning “carving jade,” to be polished into fine jade.
The emperor and the Marquis of Gongyu had grown up together since childhood, and naturally understood each other better than anyone. One was domineering and imposing, the other gentle and humble—how could they not be a good match? So when He Chang’an said he had someone he liked, Hua Chun’s first thought had been Yuwen Jie.
But… judging by his reaction, had she guessed wrong?
He Chang’an’s expression grew complicated; seeing her still nodding along, he felt an indescribable feeling well up even more. Perhaps it was relief—fortunately, she hadn’t discovered his true feelings, or else he might not be able to stand this close to her, speaking with her so calmly.
“Never mind.” He said, his voice low and hoarse. “Let’s head out of the palace first.”
Nodding blankly, Hua Chun watched his expression, and her mind seemed to finally start turning.
If it wasn’t Yuwen Jie, then could the person He Chang’an had been talking about… be her?
A bolt of lightning from a clear sky—Hua Chun’s mind went completely blank, torn between wondering if she’d been flattering herself, and recalling all the ways He Chang’an had looked after her.
It seemed… there really was that possibility?
Realizing this, Hua Chun’s first reaction wasn’t happiness but a deepening sense of guilt. Someone had been so good to her, while she’d concealed her true identity from him, letting him believe he was struggling with feelings for another man, suffering over it—wasn’t that rather unfair to him?
She suddenly realized she might really have transmigrated into the female lead’s role—otherwise why would she encounter such a textbook idol-drama second male lead? Gentle, wealthy, wholeheartedly devoted to her—truly a treasure one could only dream of!
In the past, watching novels or dramas, she’d always preferred the second male lead, thinking: he’s clearly so perfect, so wonderful—why is the female lead always blind to it, insisting instead on being tormented to death and back by the male lead?
Now she finally understood a female lead’s feelings. The most regrettable thing in the world was surely: “You are wonderful, but we simply cannot be together.”
Setting aside their respective identities, even if she now returned to being a woman, it seemed she still couldn’t happily throw herself into He Chang’an’s arms.
Though his embrace would surely be warm and secure, there was… something in her heart that seemed to stand in the way.
She could vaguely guess what that something was, but Hua Chun didn’t want to dwell on it. Closing her eyes, she pretended nothing had happened and continued walking alongside He Chang’an toward the exit.
Since they couldn’t be together, better a short pain than a long one—let him slowly let go. His getting married was his own decision, and however he chose to handle it, she wouldn’t continue to interfere; everyone’s feelings deserved respect. What she could do was: “if you can’t grant someone their future, don’t give them any hope at all.”
So upon reaching the palace gate, Hua Chun smiled with a completely carefree expression, and waved at him: “Safe travels, Second Brother.”
He Chang’an nodded, his lips slightly pale, and turned to walk toward his carriage.
“My lord?” A servant beside him called out softly. The one who had one foot on the carriage step finally came back to himself, and laughed softly: “It’s nothing, let’s head back.”
Withdrawing his gaze, He Chang’an felt that the affairs of this world truly were unpredictable—he had never been moved by anyone before, and the first person he’d ever felt his heart stir for had given him the most wonderful feelings he’d ever experienced, yet could never become his partner in life. And the person about to become his partner in life was a complete stranger to him.
It really was true—when heaven gives you something, it conveniently takes something else away in return.
Better accept his fate.
The carriage sped smoothly back to the prime minister’s residence. Hua Chun stepped down, her mind complicated, thinking about composing a couple of poems to lament the vagaries of life, when she saw Qing Niao standing pale and dazed on the front steps, waiting for her.
“What’s wrong with you?” She hurried over to check on her. “Are you feeling unwell somewhere?”
“This concubine is fine.” Qing Niao forced a smile, looking at her. “It’s just—I suddenly realized, isn’t today the twentieth of the ninth month?”
“That’s right.” Hua Chun nodded.
Her face grew even paler. Qing Niao reached out and grabbed her, fingertips ice-cold, murmuring in a low voice: “How strange, truly. So many things seem different now, completely unlike what I expected.”
“Huh?” Hua Chun’s head filled with question marks. “What’s different?”
“Tomorrow is a very important day.” Qing Niao looked up, her gaze deep and distant as she looked at her. “Please, my lord, stay within the residence and do not go out.”
Caught up in her nervous tone, Hua Chun grew anxious as well: “Can you tell me the whole story, front to back? Why can’t I go out tomorrow?”
Qing Niao said nothing, pulling her toward the residence instead.
Perhaps due to the intimidating aura surrounding the prime minister’s wife, the household servants scattered far away. As soon as they entered the main courtyard, Pin Tan immediately dismissed everyone, then went to keep watch outside.
“It’s been over a month since this concubine married my lord, hasn’t it?” Qing Niao asked.
Hua Chun nodded, sighing: “I’ve wronged you.”
“It’s no wrong.” Qing Niao said. “This concubine has something to tell my lord.”
“What is it?”
Taking a deep breath, Qing Niao looked into Hua Chun’s eyes, and said word by word: “This concubine is pregnant.”
Hua Chun: “…”
Five simple words—it took her the time it takes an incense stick to burn before she reacted, staring at her in shock, then glancing down at her belly: “This… this…”
She’d become a father out of nowhere? It had only been a bit over a month—she’d really gotten pregnant already? Why hadn’t she noticed anyone having contact with Qing Niao at all?
After the shock, she thought it over carefully—well, that made sense; she’d been busy lately, often staying in the palace, so it was only natural she hadn’t noticed. Composing herself, she asked haltingly: “Whose is it?”
“Please, my lord, tell everyone else it is yours.” Qing Niao said earnestly. “This concubine begs it of you.”
Shaking her head repeatedly, Qing Niao’s eyes reddened: “This concubine doesn’t want my lord’s magnanimity—I only want my lord to acknowledge this child.”
What was going on here? Hua Chun wiped her face—after all, this was the first time in her life she’d ever been a “father,” so naturally she felt somewhat nervous. Besides, this whole matter had left her with absolutely no mental preparation at all; her mind was completely blank, with no idea how to react.
“It’s I who have wronged you—whatever you ask, I’ll agree to.” She said blankly. “But I’m still very curious—when did this child come to be? Whose is it?”
Qing Niao said nothing, her face filled with deep sorrow.
The light in the room dimmed. Looking at the person before her, Hua Chun suddenly felt that behind her, there truly seemed to be a great many, many stories yet untold.