The thirty-third year of Kangxi, spring.
It was mid-afternoon.
The vermilion casement stood half-ajar and a faint chill slipped in with the breeze.
Beneath the spring rain, the Forbidden City lost its usual stern grandeur and softened into a hazy stillness, quiet and gentle as drifting years.
But this tranquility had not entered the Yanxi Palace.
Liang Madam, dressed in a pale purple bijia, carried a freshly decocted Baotai Medicine.
Just as she stepped out from the small kitchen, she heard the sound of two children calling from within the hall.
Next came raucous laughter and the childish, milky complaints of little ones, all blending together.
It made even the melancholy poetry of the spring rain lose its charm, and instead, added a bit of noise and liveliness.
If this had happened back when Madam Liang had only just left the Imperial Medical Institute and been brought to Yanxi Palace by Fang He, she would probably have dropped her medicine bowl in fright and rushed inside, terrified that something terrible had befallen that precious little troublemaker.
It wasn’t just about feelings—the futures and very heads of all of them were hanging by the Imperial Noble Consort’s sash.
But after spending so much time at Yanxi Palace, Liang Madam, like the other palace staff had grown used to the constant hubbub and walked in with a calm face.
After all, she’d realized that wherever Fang He was, there would never be a moment of true peace.
After the new year, as the Beimeng war became tense, Fang He had moved from Qianqing Palace back to Yanxi Palace, bringing Liang Madam and the midwife with her as well.
Facing Kangxi’s displeasure, Fang He patiently coaxed him, saying, “Your Majesty, surely I can’t give birth in the Qianqing Palace? If word got out, how would those old censors survive?”
“And besides, I really can’t bear to see Your Majesty up at night so often. Just look at those dark circles under your eyes—it’s hard to watch.”
Having lived together with Fang He for so long, Kangxi was no longer so easily won over by her coaxing, only replying blandly, “Isn’t that last line your true thought? Once you’ve given birth, I’ll have the Imperial Physicians tend to my face. It won’t delay your time peeking at me behind the curtains, but for now, just behave yourself and don’t force me to bring out the golden chain.”
Fang He burst out laughing at his retort.
As long as he wasn’t afraid of becoming the palace laughingstock, why should she fear being locked up?
But she didn’t argue with Kangxi.
After several months of pregnancy, Fang He had noticed changes in Kangxi.
He even took over escorting her to the privy at night, leaving Cui Wei and Xinhua with nothing to do.
Even in later generations, it was rare to see such a patient man.
No wonder he could become a ruler for the ages—he didn’t fall behind in anything.
So at this point, Fang He didn’t want to provoke him, and simply waited for him to leave for morning court, then had her things moved back to Yanxi Palace.
She herself stayed at Qianqing Palace, waiting for Kangxi to return from court, then asked him to walk with her—slowly strolling all the way to Yanxi Palace.
After that, Kangxi discovered that, except for the lack of a dragon bed, the sleeping quarters at Yanxi Palace were arranged exactly like the warm pavilion of Qianqing Palace.
“If you don’t want me to stay alone, then I’ll just wait for you here at Yanxi Palace every day. Isn’t that fine?”
Even if she wasn’t the cleverest, Fang He’s way of sweet-talking Kangxi (stealing every romantic trick from centuries ahead) never once failed to hit its target.
Kangxi was left speechless every time.
Actually, he didn’t care much about where he lived.
If he was tired or busy at night, staying at Qianqing Palace spared Fang He from being disturbed.
He had his place in Yanxi Palace too, no longer banished from the sleeping quarters.
Looking at Fang He’s belly, bigger than a watermelon, Kangxi could only smile and accept it.
From then on, Kangxi came only at night, leaving his days free to rest, and his spirits improved greatly.
Fang He found herself far more comfortable at Yanxi Palace than at Qianqing Palace.
Every day was spent eating and sleeping, sleeping and eating.
After lunch she strolled with Jiujiu and Er Bao, after dinner she walked with Kangxi.
Life was more carefree than at any point in her past.
Liang Madam mused over this as she carried the medicine into the main hall.
The three were all holding snacks, sprawled on strange, chubby soft pillows in nearly identical postures, chattering, eating, and laughing—it looked…very much like a sow and two little piglets.
She paused, half exasperated, half amused.
Before Fang He left Jiangnan, when she’d gone to bid farewell to Qiao Xiaoyuan, she had said, “All you do is eat and sleep every day. I’ll see if you really turn into a pig and give birth to triplets!”
She hadn’t expected those words to come true.
She’d have to go to the temple and see if her mouth was blessed.
“Elder Sister of Liang!” Fang He spotted Liang Madam first, waving lazily from her soft pillow.
Jiujiu and Er Bao followed suit, greeting her politely.
Fang He laughed, “Come here, just now the babies were moving—when one kicked, the others all moved too! One of them even kicked Er Bao. Does this mean they’re coming soon?”
It was already early March, Fang He’s pregnancy was about seven and a half months along.
Her belly was so big she couldn’t see her own feet.
After discussing with the Imperial Physicians, Liang Madam had determined that, even without using inducing medicine, a multiple pregnancy like this couldn’t be carried to full term—they’d definitely be born early.
Though there was an old saying that seven-month babies live but eight-month ones do not, in truth, the longer the babies stayed in the womb, the better their chances of survival.
So Liang Madam and the Imperial Physicians had researched nourishing Baotai formulas from ancient texts, constantly providing Fang He with nutrients so she and the babies would have the strength to attempt natural birth.
Now, it seemed they had reached the limit.
Liang Madam quickly set down the medicine bowl, went over to stroke the two little ones then she took Fang He’s pulse.
Fang He’s pulse was fine, but the babies’ pulses had changed—perhaps there was already some rivalry in the womb.
Now, one pulse was particularly strong, the other two a bit weaker.
If she gave birth now, the two weaker ones might have some health issues.
She pondered and said, “You can probably hold on for another half month. But it’ll be tough. If you haven’t started labor by the end of the month, we’ll have to use Lu Yuanpan’s induction medicine.”
Fang He didn’t insist on avoiding the medicine.
In truth, she was always afraid of death.
When the burden wasn’t so great, she could talk big, but after lugging a giant watermelon for months, all she wanted was to unload as soon as possible.
But childbirth isn’t something you can simply will yourself to get through.
When Kangxi saw that Fang He wasn’t going into labor, he approved the Ministry of Rites’ request, and on the thirteenth of March, followed ancestral custom and went to preside over the plowing ceremony at Xian Nong Altar.
As soon as he left, Fang He was jolted awake by the sudden wetness of her bedding, followed immediately by pain so sharp she wanted to scream.
When she opened her mouth, her voice wasn’t loud—she just felt drained and weak.
“Fule…”
Even though it wasn’t yet light, Fule, who had been taking turns on duty with Liang Madam these past days, immediately jumped up.
Lifting the bed curtain, she was shocked at Fang He’s sweaty, pain-twisted face.
Seeing Fang He in such agony, Fule was awed.
“Master, you’re fully dilated! How are you only waking up now!” Fule stomped in panic, calling for help.
“Xinhua-jie, go call Liang Madam and the midwife at once!”
“Cui Wei-jie, hurry to the Imperial Medical Institute for an Imperial Physician! Have them clear the birthing chamber of wind and toxins!”
The entire Imperial Medical Institute was on high alert.
They hadn’t found Chao Yuanfang’s disinfection formula, but from a Tang Dynasty text, they’d discovered a Cangzhu purifying formula, said to have been used by Hua Tuo when he operated on Guan Yu’s bones.
Lu Wuning and Liang Madam had tested it on rabbits—it truly cleared some evil winds and poisons, making it the best fuming method available, even more effective than strong spirits.
Every object and knife was boiled and then doused with strong alcohol three times, and lime was sprinkled in every corner, inside and out, preparing for any emergency that might require a cesarean section.
Because of Fule’s alarm, Yanxi Palace sprang into action.
Once the Imperial Physician arrived, the Empress Dowager quickly came to oversee things herself.
Even the long-ailing Noble Consort dragged herself and the other concubines into Yanxi Palace.
Having been carried to the birthing chamber, Fang He was in such pain she couldn’t speak, only watching as Liang Madam calmly directed the midwife.
Perhaps noticing the fear in Fang He’s eyes, Liang Madam took a moment to comfort her.
“Just focus on giving birth. As long as you’re breathing, I’ll guarantee you and the children’s safety!”
Of course, this was a lie.
Even if she were Hua Tuo reborn, Liang Madam wouldn’t dare make such a promise.
But Fang He’s and the babies’ health was better than expected, so she could exaggerate to reassure her.
Normally, Fang He wouldn’t believe it.
But now, she could only force herself to believe Liang Madam, breathing deeply and doing her best to stay calm—if she could do it naturally, she really didn’t want the knife.
No matter how well prepared, it was nothing like the sterile operating rooms of later generations.
If anything went wrong…
Fang He had been so confident about childbirth, with a strange gut feeling that she’d be fine—otherwise she wouldn’t have stubbornly insisted.
But now, all she could picture was herself dying, lingering near death, even seeing Kangxi turning Yanxi Palace into a cold palace, with her Jiujiu and Er Bao left to die wretchedly in a lonely corner.
At that moment, another wave of violent contractions hit, making her mind go blank, unable to sense the busyness of the midwives and Cui Wei around her.
All at once, the pain vanished.
She knew she was giving birth—something wasn’t right.
She had to get back if she wanted to save herself and her children…but she just couldn’t bring herself to worry.
It was as if she were drunk, floating leisurely in a space of pure white.
She didn’t know how long it lasted, as her thoughts grew more and more distant, when suddenly she saw a ray of light, irresistibly drawing her in, and in a flash she entered the light.
“You bastard, Fang Zhiping! I’m the one who gave birth to the child, raised by my parents since she was little! All you did was donate some sperm, what else have you ever done?” A shrill, familiar woman’s voice grew ever more ferocious.
“And you’ve got the nerve to demand the inheritance and insurance left by Guoguo? When your stepdaughter and son bullied our Guoguo, why didn’t you say anything then? You’re the kind who should be struck by lightning!”
Fang He paused.
Was that…her mother, the one she barely saw once a year?
Next, a rough yet familiar male voice retorted, equally fierce, “And you’ve got the nerve to talk! When you cheated back then, did you remember Guoguo was your daughter? If your parents raised her, didn’t mine raise her too?”
“Guoguo wore your daughter’s old clothes her whole life, and now you want to use her inheritance to support your lover? If I take her money, at least I can bring her back to her roots. You’d bury her in your lover’s family grave?”