By the time Feng Jiu’er arrived, all she could hear from inside the house were heart-wrenching cries.

“Madam, wake up quickly!”

“Madam, don’t scare us like this, Madam!”

“What do we do? Madam isn’t breathing—” Before Feng Jiu’er could even think, she leapt down from her horse.

Her feet barely touched the ground before she was already standing in front of the room.

The moment Feng Jiu’er lifted the curtain, the scent of blood hit her full in the face.

On the bed lay a motionless figure, and two maids with blood-covered hands knelt at the bedside.

With a “boom,” Feng Jiu’er’s mind went blank.

“Move aside!”

Paying no attention to anyone else, she shoved one person aside with one hand and came to the bed.

The instant her long fingers pressed against Qiao Mu’s pulse point, her heart ached all the more fiercely.

“Jian Yi, come in quickly, go blindfold him.”

“Yes, yes.”

The woman who hadn’t collapsed immediately stood and ran outside.

“Go prepare hot water, towels, blankets, quickly! Bring anything that can keep her warm.”

Feng Jiu’er propped Qiao Mu up, sitting behind her, channeling true qi into her.

“Alright, I’ll go right away.”

The frightened woman scrambled up and ran off.

A familiar presence approached, and Feng Jiu’er opened her eyes.

“Third Imperial Brother, you’re back, quick!”

Feng Jiu’er’s voice was hoarse, her eyes brimming with tears.

“Qiao Mu is having a difficult labor. Come quickly and channel your qi into her. I’m going to prepare for surgery, we must hurry!”

Feng Jiang looked at Qiao Mu, drained of all color, and felt as though his entire world had caved in.

He was filled with regret—regret for having let her suffer such pain—and gripped by dread, dread of losing her.

Feng Jiang couldn’t imagine what life would be like without Qiao Mu. No! Without her, going on living would hold no meaning for him at all! Feng Jiang strode forward and took Feng Jiu’er’s place.

“Talk to her! Quickly!”

Feng Jiu’er immediately pulled out every tool she might need.

“Qiao Mu, your child is still alive, you have to hold on! Qiao Mu, wake up! Do you hear what I’m saying?”

Feng Jiu’er shouted loudly while making her preparations.

All day today she had felt uneasy, sensing something ominous.

As soon as she’d found a spare moment, Feng Jiu’er had gathered her things and rushed over without stopping.

She hated the feeling she’d had today, dreading that what she feared in her heart would come true—but now she couldn’t help but feel grateful for it.

If not for that damned premonition of hers, which had made her bring a scalpel, needles and thread, hemostatic medicine, and everything else, they would now only be waiting for something worse than death.

Waiting for Qiao Mu’s life force to be spent entirely, for two lives to be lost as one.

This was something Feng Jiu’er absolutely did not want to see happen. Third Imperial Brother couldn’t lose Qiao Mu—and how could she bear it either?

Jian Yi stood blindfolded off to the side; without an order from Feng Jiu’er, he remained perfectly still.

The two maids stood guard nearby, ready at any moment.

In the shortest time possible, Feng Jiu’er finished preparing everything she needed to handle herself, then turned and returned to the bedside.

“Lay her flat.”

Feng Jiang carefully laid Qiao Mu down.

In this moment, in his heart, Qiao Mu was the most fragile porcelain doll in the world, and all of this was his fault.

If he hadn’t gotten her pregnant, she would still be Qiao Mu—strong yet gentle Qiao Mu.

“Qiao, don’t be afraid!”

Feng Jiang’s voice was hoarse.

He forced himself to hold back, but when Feng Jiu’er lifted Qiao Mu’s wrist, tears slid down his cheeks anyway.

“Her pulse has returned, but it’s very weak.”

Feng Jiu’er let out a slight breath of relief.

When she’d arrived, Qiao Mu had been in cardiac arrest.

Feng Jiu’er was frightened too, but as the only physician present, she simply had no right to be afraid.