A family of loyal martyrs, starting with nine wives to continue the family line.

Three days later, Shang Wanqing sat in Xie Daoning's medicine hut once again.

She herself couldn't explain why she came.

She took the medicine on time, and her fatigue did decrease considerably, but the inexplicable anxiety in her heart was like a rootless weed that she couldn't get rid of.

The medicine hut was as quiet as ever, with only the rustling of fallen leaves in the autumn wind outside the window.

Xie Daoning didn't ask any further questions, but simply asked her to extend her hand and placed three slender fingers on her pulse again.

Looking at her serene profile and her long, drooping eyelashes, Shang Wanqing felt a strange sense of nervousness.

Throughout her life, she had faced tens of thousands of enemy troops, towering waves, and out-of-control furnaces, but never before had her palms sweated as she did now.

Time seemed to pass exceptionally slowly.

After a long while, Xie Daoning finally withdrew his hand.

Instead of going directly to get the medicine like last time, she raised her eyes and looked at Shang Wanqing quietly. Her gaze was as calm as a deep pool, yet it seemed to be able to see through the deepest secrets in people's hearts.

"Did you ride a horse day and night to get back from Quanzhou?" Xie Daoning suddenly asked.

Shang Wanqing paused for a moment, then nodded subconsciously. "Yes."

"Nonsense." Xie Daoning's voice remained calm, but carried a rare hint of sternness characteristic of a physician.

She sighed, shook her head, and her eyes held both helplessness and reproach: "Do you think you're still a teenager? You're twenty-four this year; your body can't take this kind of strain. Riding a horse for thousands of miles, are you trying to kill yourself?"

Shang Wanqing was speechless, not knowing how to refute her.

In her mind, as long as ships could be built faster and weapons could be made stronger, her own body... seemed to be never a consideration.

Xie Daoning didn't say anything more, but simply had her switch to the other hand and took her pulse again.

This time, she closed her eyes, took a longer time to take the pulse than before, and her expression became more solemn than ever before.

Shang Wanqing's heart also jumped into her throat.

Finally, Xie Daoning released his grip.

She looked at Shang Wanqing's face, which was filled with confusion and a hint of unease, and remained silent for a moment before speaking in an extremely calm yet weighty tone.

"Got it."

Shang Wanqing's mind went blank for a moment, as if "buzzing".

"What?" she asked almost instinctively, thinking she had misheard.

I told you, you're pregnant.

Xie Daoning looked at her and repeated, word by word, giving her no chance to escape: "It's not even been a month yet. But you've been traveling all this way, and your qi and blood are severely depleted. The pregnancy is very unstable."

She stood up, walked up to Shang Wanqing, and gave the medical advice in an unquestionable tone.

"From today onwards, for the first three months, you must rest and recuperate. You are not allowed to step out of the palace gates again, you are not allowed to ride horses, you are not allowed to stay up late, and you are absolutely forbidden from going to your noisy dock!"

Shang Wanqing didn't know how she got out of Xie Daoning's courtyard.

All she remembered was that when she stood at the entrance of the medicine shop, she felt stiff all over and her hands and feet were ice cold when the cold autumn wind blew into her.

She looked down at her hands.

Those were hands that had dealt with steel, mechanisms, and kerosene for years. The palms were covered with thick calluses, the knuckles were large, and there were several old scars that could not be washed off.

These are the hands that can draw the most intricate blueprints and create the most deadly weapons.

But now, the palms of these hands are covered in cold sweat.

She clenched her fist, then slowly relaxed it.

With...

This word was too unfamiliar and too distant for her.

It is even more unfamiliar than the most distant ocean shipping routes.

She didn't return to her own Tiangong Academy, nor did she go anywhere else. Instead, like a lost puppet, she walked unsteadily in one direction.

When she came to her senses, she was already standing on the veranda outside the Imperial Study.

She saw Li Huai bowing as he withdrew from inside, his face showing a hint of solemnity, presumably discussing some important national matter with Wei Zhao.

She stood there in the shadow of the pillars, waiting quietly.

After Li Huai left, the palace gate was not closed.

She took a deep breath, as if using all her strength, before stepping inside.

Wei Zhao was looking down at a folded document on the table when he heard footsteps. Thinking it was Hua Jieyu, he said without looking up, "Leave it for now."

But the person who came didn't move.

Wei Zhao frowned and finally looked up from the mountain of memorials.

He spotted Shang Wanqing standing not far away at a glance, and immediately noticed the odd look on her face.

It was a deathly pale white, like paper, with not a trace of blood on its lips.

"What's wrong?" Wei Zhao put down his pen, stood up, and asked with concern.

Shang Wanqing walked to the imperial desk and stood still.

She looked at Wei Zhao, at his thin, weary face, opened her mouth, but found her throat was terribly dry.

She swallowed hard, and finally spoke in a trembling voice that even she herself found unfamiliar:

Xie Daoning said, "I've got it."

"Clatter".

The scroll that Wei Zhao had just picked up slipped from his hand and fell onto the imperial desk covered with bright yellow brocade with a dull thud.

A deathly silence fell over the imperial study.

The silence lasted for more than ten breaths, feeling like an eternity.

Wei Zhao stood up, slowly walked around the large imperial desk, and stepped by step, walked to her.

He was a head taller than her, and he looked down at her pale face, reaching out as if to touch her shoulder, but his hand stopped halfway in mid-air.

"...When did this happen?" His voice carried a hint of hardness that he himself was unaware of.

"When I was in Quanzhou."

Shang Wanqing lowered her head, not daring to look him in the eye, and said in a voice as soft as a mosquito's hum, "But... I haven't had time to."

I haven't had time to do it yet.

Upon hearing these five words, Wei Zhao felt as if his heart had been violently clenched.

He withdrew his hand, stood there for a moment as if processing this sudden information, before asking again:

"You rushed back because of this?"

Shang Wanqing did not deny it.

That silence is the best answer.

Wei Zhao looked at her, at her tightly pursed, chapped lips, and his voice involuntarily softened, carrying a hint of reproach, but more so, heartache.

"Why didn't you say so sooner?"

"I was afraid you'd worry."

Shang Wanqing finally raised her head and met his gaze. Those eyes, which always shone like stars, were now filled with confusion and helplessness.

"I'm also afraid... I'm also afraid that no one is watching the dock."

That evening, Wei Zhao summoned Xie Daoning to the imperial study alone.

There was no one else around, just the two of them.

"What exactly is the situation?" Wei Zhao asked bluntly, his voice unusually grave.

Xie Daoning explained the diagnosis results and all the precautions in detail.

From diet to daily life, from prescriptions to taboos, nothing is too small.

At the end, she looked into Wei Zhao's unfathomable eyes, hesitated for a moment, and then added a sentence.

"Your Majesty, Consort Shang's health was originally quite good, but in recent years she has overworked herself, excessively depleting her energy. It's already a miracle that this pregnancy was saved. If... if anything else were to happen this time, I... cannot guarantee what will happen in the future."

I can't guarantee that.

These four words, like four cold steel needles, pierced deeply into Wei Zhao's heart.

He remained silent for a long time, so long that Xie Daoning thought he would never speak again, before he slowly opened his mouth, his voice hoarse.

"I understand."

He waved his hand, signaling Xie Daoning to step down.

"Starting tomorrow, hang a palace lantern at the entrance of her courtyard to keep her undisturbed."

No one is allowed to disturb her except you and the people from the imperial kitchen who deliver the food.

"Yes." Xie Daoning bowed and accepted the order, then quietly withdrew.

In the empty imperial study, only Wei Zhao remained.

He sat alone behind the enormous imperial desk, on which lay a memorial concerning the defense of the northern border, which had only been partially discussed, but he couldn't concentrate on reading a single word.

The flickering candlelight cast his long shadow on the wall behind him, making him appear exceptionally lonely.

He picked up the vermilion brush, intending to write annotations on the memorial, but the ink gradually solidified on the tip of the brush as it hovered over the paper, and he hesitated to write.