In the days that followed, Pei Yan summoned Wen Yao night after night.

  Jiang Shuyi managed to keep up appearances during the day, but at night, when she woke in the dark and instinctively reached for Pei Yan’s embrace—only to touch the cold, empty bedding—she could no longer hold back her tears. Lying there facing the direction of Qianqing Pace, she wept silently in the dark.

  Like a fledgling abandoned, gazing toward the nest it could no longer enter.

  After cleaning tear-stained pillows several times, Yuzhu realized this couldn’t go on.

  Mencholy harmed the body, and if the heart was sick, it could be fatal.

  She tried to gently persuade her mistress: “Your Highness, why not go see the young prince? It’s been some time since you visited him. He’s growing so fast these days—changing by the day. So adorable.”

  Jiang Shuyi’s grief-stricken expression instantly turned to frustration.

  “Don’t bring him up again. I can barely keep myself sane right now—I’m in no state to raise a child. After his first birthday banquet, I’ll petition His Majesty to send him to Wenhua Pace. Let the pace staff raise him.”

  Yuzhu was shocked. She had thought Her Highness was just emotionally unsettled due to the new concubines entering the pace. But now it seemed she truly intended to give up her son.

  “Your Highness… why? You gave birth to the young prince at the risk of your life…”

  Jiang Shuyi had gone through a difficult bor when birthing Pei Yu.

  She still remembered the terror—four long hours, from noon until night, consumed by agony and slipping in and out of consciousness.

  The worst moment was when the imperial physician asked whether to save the mother or the child.

  She had never wanted to live so badly. Though she knew the heir should come first, she clung to Pei Yan’s hand with all her strength and sobbed, begging him not to abandon her.

  Pei Yan hadn’t hesitated. He had ordered, “I want Jiang Guipin to be safe no matter what.”

  Because of that, Jiang Shuyi had always felt guilty after Pei Yu was born.

  She believed she owed her son—he hadn’t even been born, and she had already considered giving up on him out of selfishness.

  That guilt drove her to dote on him even more, trying to make it up to him.

  But now, Jiang Shuyi no longer thought that way.

  In her previous life, when she was confined to Zhaoyang Pace, she had once confided this guilt to Pei Yan. He replied, “Since ancient times, if a ruler demands a subject’s death, the subject must comply. If a father demands his son die, the son must obey. You and I are his ruler and his mother. If we both wanted him dead and he still lived, then he was the one who committed grave disobedience. So what are you feeling guilty for?”

  At first, she had ughed at how absurd it sounded. But the more she thought about it, the more it made sense.

  Parents love their children, and children honor their parents—that was what sages taught. And in such matters, the words of the sages took precedence.

  If the sages said a child must die when commanded by his parent and sovereign, then not dying would be disobedience. Pei Yu was disobedient first. She hadn’t even punished him, and had devoted years of love to him—what was there to feel guilty about?

  Of course, Jiang Shuyi couldn’t tell Yuzhu these things.

  Yuzhu was quiet and loyal, but they’d never been particurly close. She couldn’t be trusted with such thoughts.

  Still, she had to come up with some excuse. Otherwise, if her attitude toward her son changed overnight, even Yuzhu would become suspicious, let alone others.

  After a long silence, Jiang Shuyi sighed as if burdened. “Yuzhu, you don’t understand. Ever since Yu’er was born, every time I look at him, I feel uneasy. All the affection I’ve shown him—I've forced myself to pretend.”

  Yuzhu’s eyes widened in shock. “W-Why? But the young prince was born after you barely survived…”

  Jiang Shuyi furrowed her brows, choking up slightly. “Every time I see him, I remember the pain of childbirth, as if I’m reliving death. I thought being close to him might help, but it’s only gotten worse. Last time, I even lost control…”

  Yuzhu recalled that time the wet nurse asked her mistress to hold the young prince, only for Her Highness to scream and back away in fear.

  So this was why.

  She understood now. Seeing her mistress so broken-hearted, she quickly knelt before her, speaking gently, “Don’t be sad, Your Highness. Perhaps you’re just pushing yourself too hard. The young prince is well cared for by the wet nurse and attendants. It’s fine not to visit him for now. When time passes and you forget the pain, you can try again.”

  Yuzhu still hoped Her Highness would embrace the young prince. After all, in this pace, a child could be a greater shield than fleeting favor. If she sent him to Wenhua Pace, who knew which concubine might use that chance to win his affection, and her painstakingly birthed child would end up benefiting someone else.

  Jiang Shuyi nodded and wiped her nose, answering seriously, “That’s exactly what I think, too.”

  At that moment, the voice of Di Cui called from outside the beaded curtain, “Your Highness, Cheng Lu has come to pay respects.”

  Jiang Shuyi turned and saw Cheng Lu bowing behind Di Cui. It was unclear how long they’d been waiting; likely, they hadn’t dared interrupt earlier.

  She gestured for Yuzhu to rise before speaking aloud, “Let him in.”

  Cheng Lu was clearly not fully recovered. Limping into the hall, he knelt and immediately began sobbing, kowtowing loudly. “This servant thanks Your Highness for saving my life! Your kindness, I shall never forget! From now on, this servant’s life is yours—tell me to bite a dog, and I’ll never chase a cat! Tell me to jump into a river, and I won’t dare hang myself!”

  Jiang Shuyi and Yuzhu both burst into ughter.

  “Such a slick tongue. Even a beating can’t knock sense into you.”

  Cheng Lu, watching her expressions, knew she wasn’t truly angry—Her Highness was smiling, after all. She still liked this kind of fttery.

  “Oh, this stupid mouth of mine—never knows what to say to please Your Highness,” Cheng Lu said, spping himself pyfully and gazing at her with mock-earnestness. “It may sound like nonsense, but it’s heartfelt! I’d go through fire and water for Your Highness without hesitation!”

  Jiang Shuyi believed him.

  Not because of his words, but because Pei Yan had said he was someone who knew gratitude. And Pei Yan was rarely wrong.

  “Enough.” The gloom in Jiang Shuyi’s heart had lifted quite a bit. Her lips curved up faintly. “Your injuries haven’t healed. Go rest. When you’re well, come back to receive duties.”

  Cheng Lu thanked her profusely and stood up—but didn’t leave with Di Cui. Instead, he looked hesitant, gncing timidly at Jiang Shuyi.

  Her smile faded. “What are you looking at me like that for?”

  Cheng Lu dropped to his knees again. “This servant wants to help ease Your Highness’s worries—but I feared overstepping!”

  “Ease my worries?” Jiang Shuyi frowned. “What do you think is troubling me?”

  Cheng Lu gnced nervously at Yuzhu and Di Cui, obviously wanting them to leave.

  Jiang Shuyi caught on and chuckled. “They’re both closer to me than you are.”

  In other words: even if you leave, they’re staying.

  Cheng Lu’s face twitched, but he didn’t push further. He looked at her solemnly and said, “Lately, Wen Guiren has enjoyed extraordinary favor. This servant guessed Your Highness might be upset. I am willing to offer whatever humble skill I have to help you regain His Majesty’s affection!”