The more Fang He listened, the angrier she grew.
Sure enough, her wretched parents were fighting over her inheritance.
She’d earned it all by herself, and they’d never helped her—in fact, they’d only ever dragged her down.
If it hadn’t been for Da Ningzi’s sharp tongue, who always had to scold them at their workplaces on her behalf, she might not have been able to keep her job at the hotel at all.
The thought of the hundreds of thousands she’d saved falling into their hands made her want to spit blood.
Wait, she’d died from a work injury, so there was compensation from both the hotel and insurance.
That was millions!
Fuming, the whiteness in front of her eyes suddenly vanished, replaced by a blood-red scene.
“You little brat, how dare you try to take my sister’s money? Are you even a member of the Fang family?”
“You bastard with a father but no mother, you just want to use my sister’s money to get a wife? Pah! With your loser looks, even a ghost wouldn’t take you!”
“Fang Zhiping, get lost! Today, you won’t get a penny of Guoguo’s money!”
“He Chunhua, let go! Take your lover and get out, or else I won’t be polite!”
A full-on brawl, complete with the crash of broken things, played out in Fang He’s rented apartment.
She noticed that her boyfriend’s things were all gone, even the jewelry he’d bought her had disappeared, and their couple photos were tossed in the trash.
But she wasn’t surprised.
Father-type boyfriends were good at taking care of people, but when it came to weighing interests, they were better than anyone.
She’d realized this when he kept putting off marriage—not much to regret.
She felt nothing for the fighting relatives—if only they could all die together.
But she did feel sorry for the landlord.
Though they’d never met in person (the landlord was abroad), through emails alone she’d felt the person was good.
The landlord’s nephew always handled everything quickly, even replacing lightbulbs.
When she’d first rented the place, she’d just broken up with her boyfriend and was at her lowest.
The nephew’s assistant must have told the boss, who then took care of every little thing for her.
Now her parents and cheap siblings had trashed the place.
She didn’t know if the landlord could sue for damages.
Just as she was thinking, she heard a scream.
Looking down, she saw her father, Fang Zhiping, had been smashed on the head with a heavy brass bull ornament by her mother, He Chunhua.
He collapsed in a pool of blood.
He Chunhua was in shock, her face still twisted with rage, when her younger brother, Fang Fei, stormed over and kicked her hard in the stomach.
“You bitch! You dare act up?”
He Chunhua screamed, crashing into a cabinet.
Her husband rushed to brawl with Fang Fei.
“You dare hit your elders? Got no manners?”
No one paid attention to the collapsed Fang Zhiping and He Chunhua; everyone else was fighting as one bloody mess.
Just as blood spread across the floor, the door burst open and several policemen entered, faces grim.
“Stop! All of you!”
“Fighting in someone else’s home, huh? Drop everything, now!”
Assistant Liang, the sharp-faced man who dealt with Fang He the most, stood expressionless at the door, calling 120 for an ambulance.
Once Fang Zhiping and He Chunhua were taken away in ambulances and the rest cuffed and sent to the police car, Assistant Liang spoke to Fang Zhiping’s wife and He Chunhua’s husband, who had been cowering at a distance.
“This is Miss Fang’s rental. Apart from her personal effects, everything belongs to our chairman. The furnishings cost about a million. All damage today will be claimed by Jinyuan Group’s legal department.”
“And here’s a free bit of good news. Before joining Zhenye Grand Hotel, Ms. Fang He signed a charity agreement. If anything happened to her, all her assets, insurance, and hotel compensation—totalling 3.47 million—would be donated to the Jinyuan Women and Children’s Foundation.”
Fang He blinked.
When did she sign that…?
That’s right—before the royal family came back, she still had a shot at the vice-president position.
She went to headquarters with the CEO and even attended a charity gala.
There, she’d met a major client, the executive director of the Jinyuan Women and Children’s Foundation, and to curry favor, signed a charity pledge on the event backdrop with her CEO.
Most people never expected to die suddenly, and the agreement was more symbolic than binding—no notary present, and most would make a will.
Who knew she’d die so dramatically, and it would actually be enforced!
She was so happy she almost jumped for joy, eager to watch her vile parents’ reactions.
Fang Zhiping, on the verge of fainting, slumped over completely.
He Chunhua, whether from Fang Fei’s kick or pure despair, coughed up a mouthful of blood.
The police added, “You’re also suspected of trespassing and malicious injury. If the evidence holds, we’ll prosecute according to law.”
Fang Fei, He Chunhua’s husband, her mother, and He Chunhua’s daughter all sat stunned on the police car, as if struck by lightning.
As they were taken away crying and hopeless, Assistant Liang stood by the door sighing.
Fang He couldn’t help but burst out laughing.
Many unhappy memories had been deliberately buried by Fang He—she never let bad memories weigh her down.
But now, she suddenly recalled times when, if her grandparents weren’t well, and it was her father’s turn to care for her, Fang Zhiping’s wife had once kicked her out, forcing her to spend the night in the stairwell.
Fang Fei, always a bully, had ruined her hard-earned cellphone and handmade crafts she sold for money.
He Chunhua’s husband put on a nice face, but whenever she stayed at their house, he’d quietly egg He Chunhua on to hit her, letting his two daughters bully and ostracize her at school.
She loved herself because she knew no one else did.
If she didn’t, she’d have fallen into darkness and lost herself.
Now, with her inheritance out of their reach and them all getting what they deserved, the old wound in Fang He’s heart finally began to heal.
She would always miss the world where she grew up, but she had no regrets now…
In Yanxi Palace, Liang Madam was nearly frantic, pressing Fang He’s philtrum and calling her name.
“Guoguo! Guoguo!”
A moment ago, she’d joked about her mouth being blessed, but now she was afraid she’d jinxed things.
She’d just said “as long as she’s breathing,” and now this troublemaker was truly unconscious, barely breathing, and couldn’t be roused.
She’d only been boasting, nothing more!
If Fang He never woke up, she’d have to call the Imperial Physician for a cesarean.
Although that Jiangnan woman survived, her health was forever weakened and her lifespan likely shortened.
Unless absolutely necessary, she really didn’t want to use the still-immature cesarean technique—if anything went wrong, everyone would pay with their lives…
Just then, Kangxi’s shaky voice was heard outside.
“How is the Imperial Noble Consort?”
He hadn’t yet reached Xian Nong Altar when he heard news that Fang He was in labor.
Even knowing the plowing ceremony was important, with the eyes of the realm upon him, Kangxi’s eyelids kept twitching, filling him with unease.
When Zhao Chang hurriedly reported, his mind went blank.
He changed clothes at once, handed the ceremony over to the Seventh Prince and the Eighth Prince and rode back at top speed.
After he spoke, every concubine and servant in the hall knelt in silence, the Empress Dowager’s face tight with worry.
Kangxi swayed, brushing off Liang Jiugong’s steadying hand and striding forward.
No one dared stop him, not even the Empress Dowager.
Though the concubines’ eyes flickered with complicated emotions, no one spoke.
Everyone knew, if anyone tried to stop His Majesty now, it would truly be courting death.
Kangxi had just reached the delivery room door when he heard Liang Madam and Fule’s tearful shouts for Fang He to wake up.
His vision swam black, his hand shaking as he pushed the door open.
At that moment, he heard Fang He’s gleeful cackling, like a hen laying eggs.
Kangxi: “……”
Empress Dowager: “…….”
The concubines: “……..”
Everyone wondered—was she mad before the babies were even born, hence the pleas to “wake up”?
Inside, everyone stared, stunned.
Fang He, eyes still closed, forehead drenched in sweat, was grinning broadly, showing two neat rows of teeth as if she’d found a pile of money.
Liang Madam took a deep breath and nudged Fang He.
Just as Fang He was laughing with hands on hips, a thunderous, familiar female voice came from the sky—
“Guoguo, wake up, it’s time to give birth.”
Oh, right, she was in labor!
Fang He jolted, panic finally setting in.
Suddenly, she felt herself flying backward, everything white again.
She opened her eyes and surprisingly found the pain less intense.
Instead, she felt an urgent, almost relieving pressure.
She grabbed someone’s hand—she wasn’t sure whose—and without a word, pushed hard.
She felt…well, something came out.
Outside, Kangxi, steadying himself against the doorframe, was about to ask when he heard the sharp cry of a newborn from inside.
The Empress Dowager hurried over to Kangxi’s side.
“What on earth—smiling, and then the child is born?”
No one answered.
Only Fang He’s gasping, half-laughing breaths, and then, a moment later, the weaker cry of another infant.
Were these children controlled by laughter?
Everyone: “……”
Liang Madam looked at the midwife, both dumbfounded, a touch of emptiness as they cradled two babies, speechless.
She didn’t know whether to laugh or scold.
Couldn’t this troublemaker ever be normal?
Still, though she didn’t know that Fang He had let go of her regrets and now felt refreshed, she had an idea.
With such a smooth birth for Guoguo, there was no need to worry about the safety of mother or children.
Still, the preparations made shouldn’t be wasted.
She decided to add to the marvels for this rare set of triplets, to further secure Fang He’s status in the palace and their own prospects in the future.
With two born so easily, the festive mood ebbed a bit, and Fang He, exhausted, couldn’t deliver the last one.
Fule quickly fed her Ginseng Soup, and Liang Madam, with practiced ease, slipped over to the window, scattering the Minxin Powder she had prepared.
It was meant to revive Fang He if she lost consciousness and restore her strength, though it had a trace of toxicity and could cause some harm—but it was still better than a cesarean.
Of course, it wasn’t very poisonous, only meant to trigger the body’s potential; afterwards, an antidote and nourishing tonic would be used.
Compared to medical skills and health regimens, the Liang family was famous for their expertise in poisons—no wonder they’d once been driven to the border and reduced to slavery.
Now Fang He didn’t need it, but the medicine could be used for plants too.
Having finished, Liang Madam disinfected her hands with spirits, then joined Fule, helping her use golden needles to stimulate the effects of the ginseng.
Soon, Fang He regained her strength, bit down on the softwood, grabbed the birthing rope, and, with the midwife’s guidance, groaned and strained for a long while, finally delivering the last little princess.
At the sound of another weak infant cry, exclamations erupted outside.
“The flowers have bloomed!”
“The peonies have all bloomed!”
Kangxi and the Empress Dowager turned in amazement toward the delivery room window.
There, a row of peony plants—previously only buds—were now in full blossom, magnificently beautiful.
In these times, people believed deeply in the supernatural.
Consort Rong immediately pressed her palms together, reciting “Amitabha,” her eyes no longer holding their former complexity, only awe and envy.
She was now certain that the Imperial Consort Zhen was truly blessed by the gods, a person of great fortune.
She must remind Yin Xi to stay close to Yanxi Palace in the future!
Consort Yi and Concubine Jing were first to kneel, crying out in unison, “Heaven blesses Great Qing! Congratulations, Your Majesty! Felicitations on this auspicious sign!”
The other concubines quickly knelt as well, their voices bright with joy, echoing all the way to the quiet Yuqing Palace.
In the study at Yuqing Palace, Yinreng paused in his reading, glancing in Yanxi Palace’s direction.
An auspicious omen?
It seemed the Emperor’s long-delayed decree would truly fall on Yinzhi or the newborn children.
Yinreng smiled self-deprecatingly, only hoping that whoever it was would not become another version of himself.
In Yanxi Palace, no one knew the crown prince’s thoughts.
Even Consort Hui, who had secretly prayed for “one corpse, four lives,” now stared blankly at the blooming peonies, losing all her desire to oppose Fang He.
Was it possible, as Imperial Consort Zhen herself claimed, that she was born under the Phoenix star, sacrificing her own fate for the sake of the Empress Dowager and the dynasty?
How else to explain triplets and such auspicious phenomena happening to her?
In that instant, Consort Hui almost felt glad.
Inside, Cui Wei, Fule, and the others knelt to congratulate the disheveled Fang He.
“Congratulations, Mistress, on this auspicious birth! Heaven blesses Great Qing!”
“Congratulations, Imperial Consort Zhen, on the birth of dragon and phoenix triplets!”
Liang Madam, her merits hidden, knelt by Fang He’s bedside, smiling as she said softly, “Congratulations, our Guoguo, you’ve finally fulfilled your wish and become the Mother Pig at last.”
Exhausted, Fang He muttered wordlessly, looking down at the three wrinkled, pink little bundles—then smiled and drifted off to sleep.
Truly, it wasn’t so bad being a piggy girl!