At the top inner canopy of the bed in Chengming Hall, auspicious Entwined Pomegranate patterns were embroidered with silk thread.
Clutching the man’s sturdy arm, Shuixian felt the intricate patterns almost dizzying her vision. She turned her head away, her ears filled with his increasingly heavy breathing as the confined space grew intensely warm.
In her daze, it seemed as though the pomegranates in the pattern had come to life, trembling so rapidly they nearly fell from the branches. Finally, with a heavy shudder of the leaves, the world settled into calm.
Once her breathing steadied, Shuixian shifted sideways, finding a comfortable position within the man’s embrace. The Brocade Quilt draped loosely over her, accentuating her delicate curves—most notably, her slender, supple waist.
Emperor Zhaoheng’s strong arm rested upon it, holding her firmly against his chest. As the fervor of passion subsided, the hall was left with only the sound of their intertwined breaths and the crackling of burning charcoal.
After a long silence, Emperor Zhaoheng’s deep voice sounded above her head, carrying a rare weariness and vulnerability unlike his usual stern and imposing demeanor. “Xian’er…” he called her, tightening his embrace, “Today… I feel truly stifled inside.”
Nestled in his arms, feeling the rise and fall of his chest and his steady heartbeat, Shuixian nodded gently to show she was listening.
“Those court officials, and the Empress Dowager… they pressure me daily.” Emperor Zhaoheng let out a cold laugh. “They push me to adopt an heir from the imperial clan. You saw that Chengge’er today—so unruly, spoiled beyond reason, how could he bear such responsibility? If I truly have no heir, and after my passing, this empire falls into the hands of such a fool, how could I face our ancestors?”
He took a deep breath and mocked himself coldly, “They are like a pack of hyenas smelling decay, waiting for me to admit… that I am heirless, that I am incapable.”
Shuixian’s heart skipped a beat. She sensed the loneliness emanating from him. Having helped him out of a difficult situation today and humiliated the Empress Dowager and Consort Yi seemed to have temporarily lowered his guard, making her the only one in the palace he could confide in.
“Your Majesty…” Shuixian lifted her head, meeting his profound gaze in the dim candlelight. “You will surely have your own child.”
Emperor Zhaoheng was taken aback for a moment, then smiled bitterly, his thumb gently stroking her smooth shoulder. “Silly Xian’er, you are kind-hearted and trying to comfort me. But I know my own body.”
He let out a long sigh. “In my youth, while leading troops at the Northern Border, I lay in ambush with my guards in a snow pit for three days and three nights to intercept the enemy’s main force… The cold seeped into my bones and damaged my foundation. Over the years, the Master Healers of the Imperial Hospital have come and gone, and I’ve consumed countless decoctions, all saying that conceiving an heir would be difficult for me…”
He paused, his voice tinged with bitterness. “I’ve been unwilling to admit it, unwilling to adopt, clinging to a sliver of hope. But now…”
Shuixian’s lack of pregnancy made it impossible for Emperor Zhaoheng to deceive himself any longer. If what Consort Yi said about Shuixian’s fertile constitution was true, and he still could not impregnate her, then there was truly no hope left.
He did not say it outright, but from his expression, Shuixian could vaguely guess.
Shuixian understood clearly, grasping the depth of Emperor Zhaoheng’s distress tonight.
In her previous life, she had conceived quickly, naturally avoiding such complications.
In this life, due to Consort Yi’s altered mindset and the poison that damaged her body, she had not immediately become pregnant. Instead, this had convinced the emperor of his own inadequacy, plunging him into deeper despair.
“Your Majesty,” Shuixian nestled further into his embrace as if seeking warmth, “do you know that conceiving a child is no simple matter for a woman, nor is it achieved overnight?”
“Hmm?” Emperor Zhaoheng looked down at her.
“When I was at Yi Manor, I witnessed something,” Shuixian’s voice grew even softer. “A young and beautiful concubine had just been taken into the household, and the Master doted on her greatly. Yet, after more than half a year, her belly showed no signs of swelling.”
“Whispers spread throughout the manor, claiming she was barren and unable to bear children. The concubine herself grew increasingly anxious, secretly wiping away tears.”
“What happened then?” Emperor Zhaoheng’s curiosity was piqued.
“Later, out of curiosity, I secretly asked the matron who had served her—the one I consider my foster mother,” Shuixian continued weaving her half-true, half-fabricated tale.
“Foster Mother said that a woman’s conception depends on fate. The right time, the right place, and the right harmony—all three must align. She said it’s like sowing seeds in spring; not every seed sprouts immediately after being planted.”
“Some women may appear robust yet struggle to conceive; others, seemingly delicate, may find it easier to become with child.”
She paused, adjusting to a more comfortable position in Emperor Zhaoheng’s embrace.
“She said that in her youth, she knew of a bride who showed no signs of pregnancy for a full year after marriage. Her husband’s family was preparing to write a letter of divorce, and her own family was frantic with worry.”
“But just when everyone had lost hope, the bride suddenly discovered she was with child! Later, she even gave birth to two healthy boys!”
She narrated vividly, and Emperor Zhaoheng listened quietly, his tense nerves seeming to relax slightly.
“Foster Mother said such matters cannot be rushed or forced. The more one worries, the more it hinders the process,” Shuixian consoled him. “Your Majesty is in robust health and exceptional vigor. The imperial physicians only said it would be difficult, not impossible. Your Majesty must not lose heart too soon. Perhaps… the right moment has yet to arrive?”
Unlike those noble ladies who always recited principles from books to him, Shuixian’s story, though simple, soothed Emperor Zhaoheng’s heart more deeply.
Shuixian gave Emperor Zhaoheng what he needed most at that moment:
Hope.
“Fate…” Emperor Zhaoheng murmured the word softly, the heavy gloom in his chest seeming to ease slightly.
He lowered his head, found her lips, and kissed her firmly.
“Xian’er is right,” his voice was hoarse, clear in the silent night.
“It is I… who have been too impatient.”
Emperor Zhaoheng turned over, enveloping her beneath him once more, his heated breath brushing against her neck.
“If the right moment has not yet come, then I shall try again and again! One day, fate will favor you and me!”
Pressed beneath him, Shuixian was swept once more into the whirlwind of fate.
The Entwined Pomegranate on the canopy seemed to tremble violently again.
Before long, Shuixian’s world turned upside down, and she could no longer see the pomegranate—only the obsession in Emperor Zhaoheng’s eyes and the intricate patterns on the bed.
Tonight, Emperor Zhaoheng seemed to have gone mad, tormenting Shuixian until she pleaded for mercy again and again.
After enduring until everything was over, with faint light seeping through the window, Emperor Zhaoheng did not rise and leave as usual.
He still held Shuixian, sinking into deep slumber with even and steady breaths.
The Emperor breaking his routine by staying overnight was enough to show his boundless favor toward Shuixian.
Listening to the even breathing beside her, Shuixian felt no drowsiness.
She lay quietly until certain that Emperor Zhaoheng had fallen into deep sleep, then cautiously and gradually extricated herself from his embrace.
Barefoot on the carpet, she made no sound.
She moved silently to the outer dressing table, removed her bracelet, and retrieved a small brown pill from its hidden compartment.
This was a pill meticulously prepared by Xiao Chuanzi, effective for contraception without harming her health, but it had to be taken as soon as possible after serving the Emperor.
Without hesitation, she placed the pill in her mouth and picked up the warm tea beside her to swallow it when…
“Xian’er?” A sleepy, slightly hoarse inquiry suddenly came from the inner chamber.
He had woken up!
Shuixian’s heart clenched! Her hand holding the teacup trembled almost imperceptibly, causing ripples in the water.
In that split second, she forced the pill in her mouth down her throat! The tiny pellet slid down, bringing a faint sensation of a foreign object.
She quickly adjusted her expression, silently put the bracelet back on, ensuring the hidden compartment was concealed, then turned and hurried into the inner chamber with the water: “Your Majesty, you’re awake? Are you thirsty? I’ve brought you some water.”
Emperor Zhaoheng propped himself up halfway, the Brocade Quilt slipping to reveal his sturdy chest.
He rubbed his temples, watching Shuixian approach with the cup, his eyes still somewhat dazed: “I heard some noise… why are you up?”
Shuixian brought the cup to his lips and fed him a few sips.
After he finished drinking, she sat on the edge of the bed, not immediately returning under the covers but slightly bowing her head, twisting the hem of her nightgown with her hands, a blush spreading across her cheeks:
“I… I was too happy, so happy I couldn’t sleep…”
She quickly glanced up at Emperor Zhaoheng, then lowered her head again, speaking with extreme shyness:
“This is the first time… Your Majesty has stayed overnight by my side… my heart… feels like it’s holding a little rabbit, thumping wildly. I lay down and got up again.”
“I just… just wanted to look at Your Majesty a little longer while you slept, to feel your presence beside me a little more… Am I too foolish?”
She buried her face in his hand resting by the bed, her voice muffled.
Shuixian’s sincere confession instantly struck the softest spot in Emperor Zhaoheng’s heart.
His last trace of doubt dissipated, replaced by tenderness for her.
He reached out his long arm, pulling her back into the warm Brocade Quilt, locking her tightly in his embrace, his voice carrying a soothing smile:
“Silly Xian’er, why get so excited over this? In the future… I will come often.”
Emperor Zhaoheng kissed her forehead and soon fell back into deep sleep, his breathing steady.
Shuixian nestled in his arms, listening to his steady heartbeat, but a thin layer of cold sweat seeped from her back.
That was close!
She closed her eyes, forcing herself to relax.
She had been taking detoxification medicine for several days, but the residual toxins had not been fully cleared.
Only after completely cleansing the remaining toxins could she safely conceive…
She believed it would be soon!