Great Sheng Dynasty, Winter of the 21st Year of Jingde
At the hour of Zi, the blizzard went mad, slamming into the wooden cabin door. With a loud bang, even the latch trembled.
Wen Yinyue jolted awake from shallow sleep. A twisting pain surged from her abdomen, sharp as countless fine needles, instantly breaking out cold sweat on her back—half a month before her due date. Premature labor had come after all.
She wrapped herself tighter in the short fur coat sewn with sheepgrass and struggled to sit up.
The brazier in the corner of the cabin was nearly out, only a few sparks flickering in the cold wind. By that faint light, the curled figure in the corner was clearly visible—Aunt Wang, the midwife she had “invited” from Li Family Village beyond the mountain valley three days ago. Aunt Wang was still asleep, a faint smile at the corner of her mouth, clearly not yet fully recovered from last night’s “sleeping incense.”
“Thank goodness… I managed to bring her here before the snow,” Wen Yinyue murmured softly. She pressed her fingers to her lower abdomen as her internal energy quietly circulated, temporarily suppressing a contraction. She had long expected to have no one to care for her during childbirth. Half a month earlier, she had followed the traces of a stream through the valley and found Li Family Village outside the mountains.
She paid with half a sack of millet grown in the valley, saying that a “distant cousin was staying in the mountains awaiting childbirth and needed an experienced aunt to help.” She had also added a little decoction brewed from “Forget-Worry Grass” to Aunt Wang’s tea—a plant she had discovered in the valley. It caused temporary memory loss; after waking, one would only remember the crucial task of “delivering a baby,” but not the route here or the employer’s appearance.
Perhaps disturbed by the howling wind and snow outside, Aunt Wang stirred and groggily opened her eyes. “Miss… this is… are we there?”
“You’re awake, Auntie?”
Enduring the abdominal pain, Wen Yinyue kept her voice as steady as possible. “Yes, this is my cousin’s place. The snow is too heavy—sorry to have you rest here first. I didn’t expect… the baby to come so suddenly.”
As she spoke, she pointed to the items already prepared by the bedside: a clay jar of strong liquor, smoothly polished stone blades, finely sifted plant ash, and the coarse cloth towels and scissors Aunt Wang had brought herself—all of which Wen Yinyue had carefully sterilized with strong liquor the night before while Aunt Wang slept.
Aunt Wang rubbed her temples, still a little dazed, but when she saw Wen Yinyue’s swollen belly and the cold sweat on her forehead, she immediately sobered up. “Oh my! You’re about to give birth? Don’t panic, miss—I’ve been delivering babies for over thirty years. I’ve got this!”
She sprang up briskly, still wearing the thick padded coat Wen Yinyue had given her—stuffed with valley sheepgrass—and walked to the bed in a few steps. She reached out to touch Wen Yinyue’s belly, then suddenly remembered something and pulled her hand back. “Miss, my hands… should I wash them?”
“You’re very thoughtful, Auntie.”
Warmth rose in Wen Yinyue’s chest. She pointed to the copper basin in the corner. “I just boiled hot water. Wash with soap pods first, then wipe again with strong liquor. That way, fewer ‘dirty things’ will get on you, and both the baby and I will be safer.” This was a sterilization concept she had brought from modern times. She had mentioned it to Aunt Wang before, and she hadn’t expected her to remember it.
Aunt Wang didn’t understand what “sterilization” meant, but she followed the instructions.
Steam rose from the hot water, filling the cold cabin with a thin white mist. As she washed her hands, Aunt Wang muttered, “Your method is new, miss. We never bothered with this before, but it sounds reliable.”
Wen Yinyue had no strength to explain further. A stronger contraction suddenly hit. She grabbed the wooden bed rail, her knuckles turning white.
The back of her fur coat was already soaked with cold sweat, clinging to her skin like a shell of ice. She didn’t dare relax. Following the incantation of the Nine Heavens Profound Spirit Art, she slowly guided the last of her internal energy from her dantian to her lower abdomen. That warm current was like a soft layer of armor, gently wrapping the uterus and easing some of the tearing pain.
“Miss! Hang in there!”
After washing her hands, Aunt Wang hurried to the bedside. Seeing Wen Yinyue’s face pale as paper, she quickly pulled the slipped felt blanket back up. “Don’t hold your breath during contractions. Breathe deeply with me—inhale… exhale… yes, like that. Save your strength!”
Wen Yinyue adjusted her breathing to Aunt Wang’s rhythm. The sharp scent of liquor and the dry smell of plant ash lingered at her nose. In her mind flashed the memory of an obstetrics lecture she had once audited near a medical school: The mother must conserve strength, relax between contractions, and only push when the birth canal is fully open… avoid excessive exhaustion.
She clenched her teeth and turned that knowledge into action. Each time a contraction came, she used her internal energy to protect the birth canal. In the intervals, she leaned against the headboard and took small sips of warm water Aunt Wang handed her—sweetened with a little honey to replenish strength.
“Auntie, please soak the stone blades in strong liquor again, and wipe the scissors once more,” Wen Yinyue said during a brief lull, pointing at the tools on the table. “And help me spread the plant ash on a clean cloth. We may need it later.”
She knew that in ancient times, little attention was paid to sanitation during childbirth, and many mothers and babies died from infection. She could not let herself or her child take that risk.
Aunt Wang moved quickly and efficiently. As she soaked the stone blades, she said, “Miss, you’re meticulous—more careful than any family I’ve delivered for before. It’s just that this place is too remote, and the snow is heavy. Otherwise, it’d be easier to find another midwife.”
She spoke casually, thinking nothing more of it—the effects of the Forget-Worry Grass were still there. She only remembered that she had come to deliver a baby for a “distant cousin.” As for how she got here or exactly where this place was, her mind was a blank.
Hearing this, Wen Yinyue finally relaxed a little.
She had calculated that the Forget-Worry Grass would last three days. Once the baby was born, she would send Aunt Wang back to Li Family Village and give her a full sack of millet, letting her treat it all as a dream. The location of the valley could not be exposed—it was the only safe haven for her and the child.
Another contraction surged, fiercer than before. Wen Yinyue felt as if her internal organs were churning. She bit down hard on her lower lip, the taste of blood spreading on her tongue. Aunt Wang quickly supported her shoulders. “Miss! It’s almost time! From what I can tell, you’re about to open up—hang on a bit more!”
Wen Yinyue nodded and closed her eyes, focusing all her attention on her lower abdomen. Her internal energy circulated like a flowing stream, washing over the tense birth canal again and again. She could clearly feel the baby’s restlessness inside her, as if it were struggling alongside her.
“Child… wait a little longer… Mother will bring you out safely,” she whispered in her heart. Her fingers gently brushed over her swollen belly, and a faint response came from within, like the baby nodding.
Outside, the wind and snow still raged, but inside the cabin, the atmosphere gradually gathered and tightened. Aunt Wang held Wen Yinyue’s hand, her palm rough yet warm.
The strong liquor on the table still gave off heat. The stone blades and scissors gleamed with a cold, sterilized light. The embers in the brazier finally flared a little, casting flickering shadows over the two of them.
Wen Yinyue took a deep breath and forced herself upright despite the pain. She said to Aunt Wang, “Auntie, I’m ready… when the next contraction comes, we’ll—”
Before she could finish, a stronger contraction struck. She clenched Aunt Wang’s hand, swallowing the rest of her words.
This time, she no longer held back. Following the rhythm of the contraction, she gathered her internal energy and physical strength together.
Sensing her resolve, Aunt Wang quickly adjusted her position, placing both hands steadily beneath Wen Yinyue’s lower abdomen. In a gentle voice, she said, “Miss, push with my count—one! Two! Three!”
The howling wind, the sound of breathing, and Aunt Wang’s guiding voice wove together in the small cabin, forming the most moving prelude to the arrival of new life.
“It’s coming! Miss, give it one more push!” Aunt Wang’s voice suddenly rose with excitement.
Wen Yinyue snapped her eyes open. A determined light flashed within them. Using every ounce of strength she had, she surged forward toward the hope of life—