As they left the Chu State Marquis’s residence, Mudan was in high spirits, humming softly. Jiang Changyang looked at her with a smile and asked, “Are you happy?”
Although there might still be minor disagreements in the future, judging from Pan Rong and the Chu State Marquis’s demeanor, it seemed unlikely that any major conflicts would arise. Mudan nodded vigorously, “Aren’t you happy? I think Axin can now wait for her child’s birth with peace of mind. I’ve been worried that her heavy thoughts might affect the delivery, but now I can relax.”
Just as she finished speaking, she sneezed. “Oh, I think I might have caught a cold.”
Seeing her blink at him, Jiang Changyang knew she was being coquettish. He reached out to touch her forehead and said seriously, “You do feel a bit warm. Shall we call a doctor to prescribe some medicine when we get back?”
“I don’t want to take medicine,” Mudan laughed. “I’ll be fine with someone massaging my legs and head.”
Jiang Changyang called out to Kuan’er, “Hurry and massage your mother’s legs and head!”
Kuan’er and Shu’er both smiled, trying to suppress their laughter.
Mudan lightly kicked Jiang Changyang, “You’re lazy.” Just then, they heard a gentle knock on the carriage wall, and Wu called softly from outside, “My lord?”
Jiang Changyang quickly opened the curtain and looked in the direction Wu’s whip was pointing. He caught a glimpse of a figure they had been searching for days, disappearing rapidly around a street corner near Pingkang Ward. He immediately said, “Dan’niang, you go home first.” He swiftly exited the carriage, not even bothering to put on his raincoat, and mounted his horse. With a few men, he galloped off in pursuit.
Mudan poked her head out, only to see their receding backs. She sighed helplessly and lowered the curtain. Wu, noticing her expression, said with a smile, “Don’t worry, madam. The lord is just chasing someone. I’ll escort you home.”
“Manager Wu, you should go with him. I can return on my own,” Mudan said, more concerned about whether Jiang Changyang had capable people by his side than who would escort her home.
Wu simply smiled, “Your safe return is also important.”
Seeing no point in insisting further, Mudan acquiesced.
Upon returning home, Mudan felt cold and tired, with an uncomfortable heaviness in her lower abdomen. By her calculations, her monthly cycle was due in the next few days. Catching a cold during her period would be troublesome, reminding her of the daily medication she had to take when she first arrived. She couldn’t help but be cautious about her health. She hurriedly took a hot bath, drank a large bowl of ginger soup, and crawled into bed to sweat it out.
Unexpectedly, she fell into a deep sleep. She woke up in the middle of the night with a dry, itchy throat, and coughing. Opening her bleary eyes, she saw that the lamp left for Jiang Changyang in the corner of the room was still lit, but the space beside her was empty. The sound of rain still pattered outside the window, and she couldn’t help but sigh with disappointment.
Hearing the noise, Kuan’er came in wearing a padded jacket. Realizing Mudan wanted water, she quickly went to fetch a cup of warm water from the stove outside. “Are you worried about the master? He’s back and discussing matters in the study. He came in earlier to check on you, but seeing you asleep, he left again.” She felt Mudan’s forehead and added, “Earlier, the master felt your forehead was a bit hot and told us to keep a close eye on you. It seems normal now.”
“I’m fine. A few more days of ginger soup should do the trick,” Mudan said, her mood instantly improving upon hearing that Jiang Changyang had returned safely. After drinking the water, she snuggled back into the blankets, not forgetting to instruct Kuan’er, “Go to sleep now, and be careful not to catch a cold.”
Seeing Mudan’s drowsy state and fearing she might get up and worsen her condition, Kuan’er decided not to tell her the whole truth—when Jiang Changyang returned, he reeked of blood. The sky-blue brocade robe Mudan had given him was ruined, with blood splattered on the hem, cuffs, and all over. She and Shu’er felt dizzy at the sight, but Jiang Changyang remained composed, explaining, “It’s not my blood, it’s horse blood.” Upon closer inspection, Kuan’er noticed that Jiang Changyang’s movements were indeed unhindered, which put her mind at ease.
However, after Jiang Changyang cleaned up and left, Kuan’er went to tidy the room and found the smell of blood on the robe unusually strong, its color particularly striking. She felt uneasy, sensing that it wasn’t ordinary blood, let alone horse blood. She had to burn incense through the night to eliminate the strange odor. Subsequently, several people arrived at the house, and Wu immediately led them to the study to meet with Jiang Changyang. Despite the late hour, they moved freely within the ward. Something significant had occurred.
Determined to take good care of Mudan and prevent her from falling ill, Kuan’er didn’t dare sleep. She sat wrapped in a blanket on the outer room’s couch, periodically sneaking in to check Mudan’s forehead. Fortunately, her temperature remained normal. As dawn approached and the rain finally ceased, Kuan’er began to doze off. In her half-sleep, she heard barely audible footsteps passing by. Opening her eyes, she saw Jiang Changyang entering the room. She quickly jumped up from the couch and reported in a low voice, “Madam coughed a bit earlier and drank half a cup of water, but her forehead isn’t warm.”
“You may go now,” Jiang Changyang said, treading lightly as he entered. He saw Mudan curled up in bed, the blanket pulled high to cover even her ears, with only her face exposed. She looked like a baby bird nestled under its mother’s feathers. Jiang Changyang sat on the edge of the bed and reached out to feel her forehead, confirming it was indeed normal. As he was about to withdraw his hand, Mudan leaned into his palm, nuzzling it softly. She opened her eyes drowsily and whispered, “What time is it? You should try to get some sleep.”
“It’s the fifth watch,” Jiang Changyang replied, rustling as he removed his clothes. As he lifted the blanket to lie down, Mudan quickly shifted inward, coaxing, “Sleep where I was, it’s warm.”
Jiang Changyang couldn’t help but smile. He reached out with his long arm and pulled her into his embrace, holding her tightly. “Am I afraid of the cold? As long as you’re well and not sick, everything is fine.”
Mudan lay comfortably in his arms, her eyes half-closed. “My stomach feels a bit uncomfortable. Can you warm it for me?”
Jiang Changyang quickly rubbed his hands to warm them and placed them on her lower abdomen. “Is that better?”
“Yes…” Mudan clung tightly to him, mumbling, “Who were you chasing? Has everything been going smoothly lately?”
Jiang Changyang was silent for a moment, then decided to tell her the truth. “I was chasing someone, but when I entered Pingkang Ward, I lost him after a long pursuit. Instead, I found Wu Yugui, who had been killed.” Wu Yugui and his attendants, a total of five people, were all dead without a single survivor.
Mudan’s drowsiness vanished, and she clutched his hand tightly. “Then…”
Jiang Changyang smiled slightly. “Don’t worry, they wouldn’t dare harm me, nor could they. This matter only appears complicated. I’m telling you this to remind you not to go out for the next few days. Stay at home and take care of yourself. If anyone comes to invite you out, refuse them all, saying you’re ill.”
Mudan sighed with relief. “You must be careful.” Yesterday, she had overheard Pan Rong and Jiang Changyang chatting about how Prince Ning had just begun to deal with Wang Shilang’s case when Wang Shilang died in prison, allegedly by suicide out of guilt. The Wang family was grief-stricken and outraged, as Wang Shilang hadn’t committed any grave offenses apart from his unsavory habits. His crimes didn’t warrant death; exile or punishment would have sufficed. Why would he commit suicide? It was a suspicious death. Many believed the Xiao family was behind it, while another theory quietly emerged, suggesting that Prince Ning, concerned about his reputation, had “persuaded” Wang Shilang to die.
Amidst the swirling rumors, key figures maintained their silence, including the elderly scholar from the Imperial Academy, who unusually refrained from commenting. The Emperor made no judgment on the matter, only ordering Wang Shilang’s body to be returned. With the alleged culprit dead and the involved parties silent, public discussion died down after a couple of days. The incident of Xiao Yuexi’s assault was thus concluded, and Minister Xiao continued to attend court.
Although Mudan wasn’t fully aware of these matters, she knew the situation was complex. She resolved to carefully follow Jiang Changyang’s instructions.
As Jiang Changyang had predicted, from noon the next day, people continuously came to buy peonies or casual acquaintances invited Mudan to banquets. Following Jiang Changyang’s orders, Mudan rejected them all and contentedly stayed indoors to care for her health. In her free time, she prepared some delicacies to take to the study to reward everyone for their hard work, steadfastly refusing to step outside.
After five or six days of this routine, as the drizzle finally stopped and things quieted down, the stream of visitors ceased. At the same time, news arrived that Lady Bai had given birth smoothly to a daughter, with both mother and child in good health. Pan Rong now had both a son and a daughter, bringing great joy to the entire family. They planned to celebrate grandly on the child’s full-month day and insisted that Jiang Changyang and Mudan attend.
Mudan smiled, thinking how accurate the prediction of the gap-toothed child Pan Jing had been. She gently caressed her lower abdomen. Her regular menstrual period had passed four days ago, and although she occasionally felt a heaviness in her lower abdomen, there was no sign of bleeding. She was full of hope, wishing she could confirm her suspicions with a doctor in a few days. She became particularly cautious about her diet, abandoning all use of rouge, powder, and perfumes. Each day, her primary concern was checking if her undergarments remained clean. Her mood became unsettled, and she grew slightly irritable.
Jiang Changyang, unaware of the reason for Mudan’s change in demeanor, initially thought he had neglected her due to his recent busyness. He deliberately set aside a day, retiring to bed early, intending to please her with intimacy. However, Mudan dared not be intimate with him at this time. She smiled and pushed him away, saying, “I’m not feeling well, I’m tired.” It wasn’t that she didn’t want to explain the situation to him, but she knew that her recent stress and fatigue could cause delays and irregularities. Though she understood this rationally, she still harbored hope.
The more she avoided him, the more persistent Jiang Changyang became, insisting she explain in detail: “Where are you feeling unwell? Shall I call a doctor for you?”
Exasperated by his persistence, Mudan finally looked him in the eye and said, “My monthly cycle is irregular.”
Menstrual irregularities were a serious matter, and Jiang Changyang was startled. He stopped pestering her immediately. “Then we should quickly find someone to examine you. I’ll send someone to inquire about a suitable doctor, and we’ll have them come tomorrow.”
Mudan thought it might be good to have someone check, to alleviate her daily anxiety. Jiang Changyang carefully warmed his palms and gently placed them on Mudan’s lower abdomen, smiling sheepishly, “There’s no doctor tonight, so let me warm you up.”