News of Prince Yan’s death by self-administered poison spread swiftly through the capital.

At this time, Ling Jingshu was more than six months along in her pregnancy, her belly round and prominent. Each day she was drowsy and prone to sleep, yet her appetite was, unexpectedly, remarkably good. Her already lovely face had grown considerably rounder.

Upon hearing the news, Ling Jingshu let out a breath of quiet relief.

In her previous life, it was Prince Yan’s elder sister who had stolen her husband. It was Prince Yan’s mother who had issued a secret decree taking her life.

Though she and Prince Yan bore no direct enmity toward each other, they were inherently on opposing sides. Moreover, Prince Yan and the Crown Grandson’s father had long since been locked in a rivalry that could only end in one side’s destruction. She and Wei Yan and Empress Wei had aligned themselves with the Crown Grandson’s father and son — naturally, she hoped to see Prince Yan executed as soon as possible.

“My lady, this servant heard that before Prince Yan died, he was summoned to the palace for a final audience with the Emperor. He vexed the Emperor into collapsing right then and there, then swiftly and decisively drank down the poison wine, after which the poison took hold and he died.”

Bai Yu relayed the news she had gathered to Ling Jingshu in full detail.

Ling Jingshu’s brow furrowed slightly: “I wonder how long the Emperor will remain unconscious this time.”

In truth, what she wished to say was that with the Emperor having fallen unconscious again, she did not know whether he could be brought back. But such deeply impious words were not fit to be spoken aloud — they could only be expressed more diplomatically.

The perceptive Bai Yu understood her meaning perfectly and offered quiet comfort: “Heaven watches over the virtuous. The Emperor is the Son of Heaven, protected by divine blessing — he will not so easily depart from this world.”

Ling Jingshu sighed, lowering her voice as well: “I too hope the Emperor lives a long life. But one must also be prepared for the worst. If the unthinkable should happen, the days ahead for the Empress in the palace would be very difficult indeed.”

Perhaps Heaven truly did watch over the Son of Heaven.

After the Emperor had lain unconscious for several days, he once again stubbornly held on.

Ling Jingshu, who had spent those days in anxious worry, only then truly set her heart at ease, settling down peacefully to continue nurturing her pregnancy.

As the Emperor’s dedicated personal physician, Wei Yan’s acupuncture skills were peerless. The Emperor could not do without him at his side for even a moment. Though Wei Yan longed to stay and keep his pregnant young wife company, unfortunately circumstances were not kind to him — he was bound to the palace with no way to free himself.

Three months later, the Emperor’s condition at last stabilized somewhat.

The day of Ling Jingshu’s confinement was drawing near.

Wei Yan finally felt able to request leave: “Your Majesty, this minister’s wife is near her time of confinement. This minister wishes to request a few days of leave to return home and keep my wife company.”

The Emperor, his face gaunt and thin, reclined half-sitting upon his bed. His spirits were tolerably good. Upon hearing this, he smiled and said: “You have been in the palace attending to me all this time, with no leisure to return home — it has been quite an imposition on your young wife. Now that my health has improved considerably, this Emperor grants you half a month’s leave.”

Wei Yan had not expected the Emperor to be so generous. His spirits lifted instantly, and he quickly knelt to express his gratitude.

Empress Wei personally escorted Wei Yan out of the Zichen Hall, urging him earnestly: “Childbirth is the hardest trial a woman faces. It is best that you return to be with her. Once the baby is born, remember to have someone bring the happy news into the palace.”

Wei Yan smiled in agreement, clasped his hands in salute toward Empress Wei, and hurried off.

Empress Wei watched Wei Yan’s hasty, eager figure retreating into the distance and felt both amused and deeply gratified.

Wei Yan rushed back to the Wei residence with barely contained urgency.

The moment he stepped through the gates of the Wei residence, Wei Yan sensed that something was different. The servants all wore expressions of restrained joy and moved about with hurried steps. Upon seeing Wei Yan arrive, the steward immediately came forward to report: “The young mistress began her labor this morning and has entered the birthing chamber.”

Wei Yan’s mind rang with a sudden shock, and the words came tumbling out: “How is she now? Has the child been born yet?”

“Not yet. Several midwives are in the birthing chamber, and the experienced women of the household are all attending inside and outside. Being the first birth, it is natural for it to take longer—”

Before the steward had finished speaking, Wei Yan had already taken great strides past him and headed straight for the birthing chamber.

The birthing chamber had been set up in the main courtyard.

Even from a considerable distance, he could faintly hear cries of pain.

It was Ling Jingshu’s voice!

Wei Yan’s heart clenched tight, and his pace quickened further.

The two women stationed outside the birthing chamber saw Wei Yan approaching to enter and summoned the nerve to block his way: “The birthing chamber is heavy with the smell of blood — men cannot go in. Please wait outside!”

Wei Yan was in no state to heed any of this. He shot the women a cold stare: “Move aside.”

The women were so unnerved by that stare their hearts lurched, and they dared not stop him further.

Wei Yan pushed the door open and stepped inside. The first thing he saw was Ling Jingshu lying on the bed, drenched in perspiration, her face contorted in agony. His heart was pierced through in an instant, and he called out to her with a trembling voice: “A’Shu!”

Ling Jingshu was in the depths of torment, drifting in and out of consciousness. Upon hearing the familiar voice, she forced her eyes open with great effort.

A familiar, handsome face appeared before her, filled with worry and concern: “A’Shu, don’t be afraid. I’m back. I will stay right beside you!”

Tears welled at the corners of Ling Jingshu’s eyes, and she called out to him in a choked voice: “Wei Yan — you’ve finally come back.”

These past three months, Wei Yan had only returned twice. Each time, he stayed for no more than half an hour before returning to the palace. Were it not that she was not the sort of soft-hearted woman who wallows in grievances, she might have fallen to tears and resentment — but instead she had endured without complaint, holding on with resilience and quiet cheer until the day of her confinement arrived.

Fortunately, at the most critical moment, he had come back.

From somewhere deep within her body, a strength she could not account for surged up, and she gripped his hand tightly.

The midwife cried out in delighted surprise: “I can see the baby’s head! Push harder — the baby is almost here!”

Wei Yan, a physician by trade, had never attended a woman’s delivery before, yet he understood perfectly that at such a moment, a woman needed above all else the presence of someone by her side to offer encouragement and comfort. He leaned close to her ear and urged: “A’Shu, you are doing so well. The baby is almost here. Don’t give up — breathe deeply, and don’t cry out. Channel every bit of your strength.”

The clouded, disoriented fog of Ling Jingshu’s mind gradually cleared, and the resolve returned to her eyes.

Half an hour later, the child was finally born safely.

The midwife gave the baby’s small bottom a crisp, practiced smack, and the child immediately burst out with a loud, lusty cry.

“Congratulations, young mistress — you have given birth to a fair and plump baby boy.” The midwife’s face was wreathed in smiles as she brought the child to Ling Jingshu.

Ling Jingshu had spent every last bit of her strength and was utterly exhausted. Upon hearing the words, she mustered the effort to steal a glance at the child.

A tiny face, eyes still shut, but the mouth opened wide, sending his cries ringing out with particular vigor. Healthy and adorable!

This was her child, hers and Wei Yan’s!

She had no strength left to speak, and only gazed at the child with tender love.

Wei Yan was also looking at the child, his expression brimming with exhilaration, speaking without pause: “A’Shu, do look at our son — what a handsome and lovely thing he is.”

In truth, a newborn infant is entirely red and wrinkled all over, and not particularly beautiful by any standard.

Yet in the eyes of new parents, their own child is, without question, the most handsome thing in all the world.

Wei Yan carefully and gently took the child from the midwife’s arms and laid him beside Ling Jingshu. Once placed on the bed, the child, remarkably, quieted and stopped crying.

Wei Yan bent down and pressed a kiss to Ling Jingshu’s forehead, then softly kissed the child as well, his face filled with contentment.

Ling Jingshu was far too exhausted and drifted quickly into unconscious sleep. Even as she slept, the corners of her lips curved upward in a smile.