The Old Madam stepped forward and helped Cheng Zhiyuan to his feet. “Zhiyuan, nothing else matters—you must return safely.”

“Please don’t worry, I definitely will. This child still has to drink Shu’er’s wedding wine.” Cheng Zhiyuan looked toward his son standing upright. “Shu’er, take good care of your grandmother and aunt in your father’s place.”

Through this period of time together, Cheng Shu’s estrangement from his father had already disappeared. With a grave expression, he nodded in assurance.

Cheng Zhiyuan clapped Cheng Shu’s shoulder. “Silly boy, why such a bitter and resentful face? Your father is going to make money, not dig coal. When your father earns more betrothal gifts for you to marry a wife, he’ll come back.”

Cheng Shu grinned. “We don’t need that many betrothal gifts.”

Cheng Zhiyuan gave him a slap. “Foolish boy.”

If it weren’t for the elders making arrangements, his foolish son would probably be destined to remain a bachelor.

Cheng Zhiyuan then looked toward Han Baocheng and the couple Lin Hao and her husband.

Lin Chan was now far along in her pregnancy, so they hadn’t let her come.

“Baocheng, Heir Apparent, you’re both good children. I won’t say much—just take good care of the family.”

The two said in unison, “Please don’t worry, we’ll handle the family.”

Cheng Zhiyuan nodded, then finally looked toward Lady Lin.

If it were before, Lady Lin wouldn’t have thought much of it, but now that her adopted brother was putting her last to say farewell to, she could taste some meaning in it.

“Wanqing, I must trouble you to care for Adoptive Mother.”

Lady Lin had always cried and laughed freely, but at this moment she found smiling somewhat difficult. “Caring for Mother is my duty. Rather, it’s eldest brother—crossing the ocean, you must take care.”

“I will.” Cheng Zhiyuan looked deeply at her. A thousand words remained in his heart, but in the end he only said, “Then I’m leaving.”

Everyone stood on the shore, watching Cheng Zhiyuan board the ship.

It was a magnificent four-story vessel that made people seem as small as ants.

Yet compared to the vast rivers and boundless seas, this ship also seemed small.

The Old Madam looked at her obtuse daughter and sighed inwardly, not knowing if she was speaking to her or murmuring to herself. “Imperial might is unpredictable, the journey long and arduous—who knows when he’ll return.”

Lady Lin’s heart trembled. Her actions moved faster than her thoughts as she chased after him, shouting, “Eldest brother!”

Cheng Zhiyuan’s steps boarding the ship halted. He turned and strode toward Lady Lin.

“Wanqing, is there something else?”

Lady Lin pulled off the safety clasp she wore close to her body and slapped it into his hand. “Wear this—it will keep you safe.”

The warm jade clasp entered his hand, still carrying the other person’s body heat. Cheng Zhiyuan looked at Lady Lin in astonishment. “You’re giving this to me?”

He had been away from the capital too long and didn’t know if the meaning had changed. In his youth, giving a safety clasp was often something between lovers.

“Of course it’s for you. Hurry and go, leave early and return early.” Lady Lin wasn’t a bashful person. Though her head had been hot when she gave Cheng Zhiyuan the safety clasp, after coming to her senses she didn’t regret it, nor did she make excuses to cover it up.

Having given it, she’d given it. As long as he could return safely, that was enough.

“Wanqing, you know what this means, right?” Cheng Zhiyuan gripped the jade clasp tightly, so nervous he even forgot to breathe.

Lady Lin’s face flushed as she glared at him. “I’m a grown woman—how could I not know? Stop dithering and hurry up and leave.”

The corners of Cheng Zhiyuan’s mouth stretched wider and wider, his eyes startlingly bright. “Good, good, good—I’m leaving right now!”

He turned and took a step, then turned back. Reason desperately stopped him from embracing the person he had quietly loved for half his life. Suppressing his surging joy, he left one sentence behind. “Wait for me to return!”

The fleet raised its sails and set off, gradually disappearing from the sight of those seeing them off.

Lin Hao looked at her grandmother whose smile couldn’t be contained, then looked at her somewhat uncomfortable mother, forming a guess: Was she about to have a father?

With Cheng Zhiyuan’s departure, the General’s Manor returned to calm. The various interests surrounding maritime trade were reshuffled and divided, returning to normal course. The attention of civil and military officials also withdrew from this matter and turned toward the palace.

Calculating the time, it was nearly time for Noble Lady Wu to give birth.

Whether this child of Noble Lady Wu’s was male or female touched countless people’s hearts.

On this day the sky was somewhat overcast. Noble Lady Wu, who was being supported by palace maids as she strolled in the garden, worried about sudden rain and slowly walked back.

Nothing was more important than the child in her belly—she couldn’t afford not to be careful.

A group of people had just escorted Noble Lady Wu back to her sleeping quarters when Noble Lady Wu went into labor.

The midwives had been prepared long ago—six in total. Several imperial physicians, each with their own specialties, had been in a state of readiness for the past two months.

Emperor Tai’an, who was in court session, heard the palace attendant’s quiet report and immediately ended the court session, hurrying toward Noble Lady Wu’s residence. This left the assembled officials looking at each other, gathering together to speculate.

“This is the first time, isn’t it? The Emperor leaving before the court session ended.”

“It seems that lady is having her moment.”

“Is it time?”

The officials dispersed from court, but their thoughts remained in the palace.

Noble Lady Wu hadn’t been elevated in rank yet, but she had long since moved into Hua’an Palace, which was very close to Qianqing Palace. Everyone knew that once Noble Lady Wu gave birth to an imperial son, she would become the mistress of Hua’an Palace.

At this time, Hua’an Palace was busy but orderly, the atmosphere tense to the extreme.

Emperor Tai’an stood with his hands behind his back in this atmosphere, his eyes fixed tightly on the door.

He hadn’t felt this kind of tension in a long time. The child about to be born in that room was too important to him.

Consort Zhuang had also come, standing silently beside Emperor Tai’an, sensibly not making a sound.

Perhaps because she had no children, she very much hoped Noble Lady Wu could give birth smoothly.

The Great Zhou imperial family desperately needed a prince.

Inside the delivery room, Noble Lady Wu kept crying out. She was giving birth for the first time, and even with the most experienced midwives patiently guiding her, things still weren’t going very smoothly.

When night fell, at Consort Zhuang’s urging, Emperor Tai’an went to rest in the main hall of Hua’an Palace. Every quarter-hour, a palace attendant would come in to report the situation from the delivery room.

“Why hasn’t she given birth yet!” Emperor Tai’an’s face was grim, his heart full of anxiety.

Consort Zhuang gently advised, “Your Majesty, don’t be anxious. Childbirth is like this—it’s never that quick.”

“Is that so?” Emperor Tai’an asked eagerly.

Watching the nearly fifty-year-old Emperor rarely show such apprehension, Consort Zhuang sighed inwardly and comforted him. “When this consort gave birth years ago, it was also like this.”

“That’s good, that’s good…” Emperor Tai’an murmured.

The early winter night was cold. Emperor Tai’an had no intention of resting, waiting until the middle of the night when he suddenly heard a cry of alarm.

This was extremely rare in the strictly regulated imperial palace.

Emperor Tai’an’s heart jumped as he strode outside, meeting head-on with a palace attendant rushing to report.

“What happened?”

The attendant’s legs went soft as he knelt, stammering, “Re-replying to Your Majesty…”

Emperor Tai’an couldn’t be bothered to listen and quickly walked to outside the delivery room.

The delivery room was quiet—there was neither a woman’s cries nor an infant’s wails. With Emperor Tai’an’s arrival, a mass of people knelt in darkness.

“How is Noble Lady Wu?”

A person kneeling nearby answered with lowered head, “Her Ladyship has fainted.”

“Then… what about the child?” Emperor Tai’an had never felt that asking a single question also required courage.

The door opened. A midwife walked out carrying a swaddling bundle and knelt down, her face deathly pale.