In Prince Qi’s view, since the child couldn’t be saved and Emperor Jingming was still outside, behaving too poorly and disappointing his father would be even more counterproductive.
“Thank you for your trouble, Imperial Physician,” Prince Qi said.
“Your Highness is too kind,” the physician replied, secretly sighing as he hurriedly used the pretext of preparing medicine to leave this troublesome situation.
Prince Qi held Princess Qi’s hand. “My dear, don’t overthink it. Once you’ve recovered, we’ll have another child.”
“No, we won’t… we can’t…” Princess Qi cried incoherently, overcome with grief.
A flash of disgust crossed Prince Qi’s eyes, but his face remained impassive. “Princess, please calm down. We’re in the palace.”
His reminder fell on deaf ears, as the usually virtuous Princess Qi was beyond caring about propriety. With excruciating pain in her abdomen and heart, she no longer cared where she was. Palace or not, the child she had longed for was gone, along with her support for the latter half of her life…
Princess Qi’s cries grew more heart-wrenching.
The arriving nursemaid said awkwardly, “Your Highness, it’s inconvenient for you to stay here. Perhaps you should step outside.”
Prince Qi was eager to leave this bloody scene, but his face remained solemn. “Then I’ll trouble you to take care of the Princess.”
Prince Qi bowed to the Empress, offered a few more words of comfort to Princess Qi, and then turned to leave.
With Princess Qi miscarrying and bleeding profusely, even the Empress, though a woman herself, couldn’t stay long. For those of noble status, a miscarriage was considered an unlucky event. Even if the Empress didn’t mind, the court ladies would gossip.
The Empress gently consoled, “Princess Qi, I know you’re in pain. Any woman would be in such circumstances. But one must look forward. Life is long, and you’re still young…”
Her words were met with heart-rending sobs.
The Empress sighed and instructed the nursemaids, “Take good care of the Princess.”
The nursemaid hurriedly agreed and began directing the palace maids.
The Empress gave one last glance at the distraught Princess Qi before leaving.
Prince Qi, who had left earlier, bowed to Emperor Jingming and said hoarsely, “Son is ashamed to have troubled Father Emperor on New Year’s Day.”
Emperor Jingming waved his hand. “Enough, this isn’t the time for such talk. How is your wife?”
Prince Qi shook his head gravely. “The child is lost. She’s taking it hard…”
Emperor Jingming sighed, unsure how to offer comfort. For common folk, raising three or four children out of seven or eight born was considered fortunate, and miscarriages were not uncommon. But he knew Princess Qi had eagerly anticipated this child.
“How did your wife fall?” the Emperor asked.
Prince Qi lowered his head, grief-stricken. “It’s my fault for not taking better care of her.”
He had seen clearly from his horse that the Princess’s fall was too strange to be an accident. No one knew better than him how much the Princess cared for this child; how could she have fallen carelessly? But he couldn’t mention these suspicions to his father, so he could only swallow his words along with the blood from his bitten tongue.
“Well, what’s done is done. Grieving won’t help. Fortunately, you’re both still young,” the Emperor said.
Prince Qi wanted to cry but held back his tears. “Yes, son understands.”
At his age, other men’s sons were already in school, while his son was not even conceived yet. This was especially crucial during his rivalry with the Third Prince. His principal wife’s pregnancy and miscarriage—it would have been better if this child had never been conceived—
“Have the others dispersed?” Emperor Jingming asked Pan Hai.
“Most are still waiting outside the palace,” Pan Hai replied.
Emperor Jingming’s face darkened. “What are they waiting for? Tell them to go home immediately!”
They only knew how to cause trouble. Over at Madam Duo’s, they couldn’t get a word out of her even though she was nearly beaten to death.
Thinking of this, Emperor Jingming felt a pain in his chest.
Pan Hai accepted the order and went to the palace gates. He looked around and announced loudly, “His Majesty commands everyone to disperse.”
Someone unable to resist gossip quickly asked, “Eunuch Pan, is Princess Qi alright?”
Pan Hai, knowing that news of Princess Qi’s miscarriage couldn’t be kept secret, decided not to offend anyone and replied, “The child is lost.”
A wave of sighs rose from the crowd, though how many were truly sympathetic, only heaven knew.
One by one, the carriages began to move, leaving only the Qi Prince Manor’s carriage alone in the end.
The coachman crouched beside the carriage, glancing at the patrolling guards, and began to cry softly while hugging the horse’s leg. With the Princess falling from the carriage and miscarrying, he was sure to face severe consequences.
“Shut up!” a nearby guard barked.
The coachman wiped his tears and slowly stood up. His gaze suddenly shrank as it fell on a certain spot, his expression gradually turning to horror.
As the side hall bustled with activity and the palace gates were about to be locked, Princess Qi was carried onto a palanquin, accompanied by Prince Qi as they left the imperial palace.
Despite Princess Qi’s miscarriage, there was no reason for the couple to stay overnight in the palace. Some rules couldn’t be broken, even by the Emperor and Empress.
The coachman, leaning against the carriage wall but not daring to close his eyes, saw Prince Qi emerge. He approached with a pale face, “Your Highness—”
Prince Qi was in no mood to speak with a coachman at this moment. With a grim face, he mounted his horse and came to the side of the palanquin. “Let’s go.”
The palanquin’s pace quickened slightly.
The coachman looked around, then climbed onto the carriage and raised his whip.
On this New Year’s night, the sky was devoid of stars and moon, mirroring Prince Qi’s mood—bleak.
Prince Qi was eager to return to his manor, feeling that this journey was particularly arduous.
Finally, the palanquin stopped at the second gate of the Qi Prince Manor.
Prince Qi dismounted and said to the palanquin bearers, “Carry her directly to the main courtyard entrance.”
He had no choice but to carry the Princess himself into the palace, not wanting to leave his father with an impression of coldheartedness. Now that they were home, he didn’t want to be tainted by the smell of blood.
When the palanquin stopped at the main courtyard entrance, several maids and old women surrounded it to help Princess Qi out. They carried and supported her into the room.
After all the commotion, Princess Qi’s face was completely drained of color, a frightening sight.
Several trusted maids cried out, “Princess! Princess!”
“Silence!” Prince Qi snapped irritably, and the crying immediately stopped.
Princess Qi’s eyelids fluttered, and she opened her eyes with effort.
“How do you feel?” Prince Qi asked, his tone softening.
Summoning strength from somewhere, Princess Qi grabbed Prince Qi’s wrist and said hoarsely, “Your Highness, the carriage floor was very slippery—”
Prince Qi’s eyelid twitched, and his first reaction was to look for the shoes Princess Qi had taken off.
In winter, noble women typically wore boots for comfort and warmth.
Due to her pregnancy, Princess Qi’s boots were specially made without heels.
Prince Qi picked up the short boots and turned them over, running his hand over the soles and then examining them closely in the light.
There was a dark brown, slightly sticky substance.
Prince Qi’s face immediately darkened. Without a word to Princess Qi, he rushed out towards the stables.
The coachman usually rested in a shed near the stables, convenient for maintaining the carriage and tending to the horses.
But now, when he should have been resting, the coachman was in the stables, repeatedly wiping the carriage floor with a wet cloth.
Prince Qi strode over and kicked the coachman in the back.
“What are you doing?” he demanded.