Meng Wenyao wasn't acting out of kindness. Far from it. She just knew that if her sister, Meng Wenxian, were executed for seducing Prince An, the entire Meng family would be too ashamed to show their faces in court again.
"Your Majesty~"Wenyao continued to act coy, prompting a harsh glare from the Empress Dowager.
The Emperor's expression turned stern. "Wenyao, enough."
The atmosphere grew awkward—until a royal physician came hurrying in.
Little Dezi rushed forward to guide the physician to Meng Wenyao's side.
Seeing how hastily he'd been summoned, the physician braced himself for something serious. But when he saw the consort sitting there with a healthy flush in her cheeks, he relaxed. Probably just too much wine again—nobles and their drama.
Still, he dutifully reached for her wrist.
The moment his fingers touched her pulse, he flinched as if burned, snapping his hand back.
His sudden reaction drew curious glances from the Emperor and Consort Chen. Embarrassed, the physician recomposed himself and reached for her wrist again—this time, with more care.
His brow furrowed. Sweat gathered at his temples. Had he... made a mistake?
"I'd like to check the other wrist as well, if Your Grace permits," he said nervously.
Wenyao nodded generously, watching him sweat through the process with amused interest.
Are palace physicians so rusty they forget how to recognize a pregnancy pulse? she thought.
"Well?" the Emperor asked. "Is she ill?"
The physician panicked. Heavens help me, he thought. I'm almost sure this is a pregnancy pulse... but what if I'm wrong? What if that child isn't His Majesty's? I'd be sentencing my whole family to death.
He stammered, "This humble servant... lacks certainty. I humbly request that other physicians be summoned to confirm."
The Emperor's face tightened. He assumed Wenyao's condition was far worse than expected. "Summon them all," he ordered.
He turned to her, anxious. "Tell me—does anything else feel wrong?"
Wenyao pouted, "Your Majesty, if you'd just let my sister finish her story, I'd feel much better."
The Emperor sighed. "Don't act out. I know this isn't entirely her fault—but even if someone else pulled the strings, she still participated willingly. There's no way to shield her from punishment."
He wasn't wrong. Though it was clear someone had orchestrated the scandal, Wenxian had gone along with it eagerly. There were no signs of coercion. Protecting her would be difficult.
The Emperor didn't want to dig deeper—not because he feared the truth, but because it would sully Prince An's reputation. Let's see how well he protects the Prince once he learns the child is his own.
Originally, she had planned to wait for the physicians to confirm. But with the Empress Dowager eager to punish her sister, Wenyao had no choice.
She leaned in, whispering into the Emperor's ear, "Your Majesty... I'm pregnant."
The Emperor jolted like he'd been struck by lightning. His head whipped around so fast he knocked over his wine.
He stared at her for several long seconds, stunned. "Wenyao... don't joke like that."
"If it's true... will you spare my sister?"
"Of course."
He still wasn't sure if she was teasing him—but part of him hoped with all his heart it was real. Outwardly calm, inwardly his hand—still holding hers—trembled uncontrollably.
The Empress Dowager, watching from her seat, scowled. "Is Consort Chen unwell?"
Wenyao replied sweetly, "Your Grace, the physician was unsure. His Majesty has called for more physicians to examine me."
"Oh? Then if it's not urgent, perhaps we can resolve the current matter first?" the Dowager suggested, motioning to have Wenxian dragged away.
But the Emperor stopped her. "Mother, there's no rush."
"How can you say that? The longer this drags on, the more damage it does to An's reputation. The ministers are all watching. He just came of age—don't humiliate him now. Let him keep some dignity so he can stand proud in court one day."
Her words were clearly biased in favor of Prince An. But the Emperor—already holding back his fury for days—couldn't take it anymore.
"If he cares so much about his dignity, why did he do something so disgraceful?"
The Dowager frowned, displeased by his stubbornness. "He's still a child."
"He officially came of age today," the Emperor snapped.
Tension thickened in the air. Wenyao ignored the Dowager's subtle glare and kept her head down like she'd seen nothing at all.
The ministers below exchanged glances. The palace was quiet for too long; whispers and speculations filled the hall.
Lady Shangshu leaned toward her daughter, murmuring, "Men have always been prone to affairs. If you can't accept that, you'd best give up on marrying Prince An."
"I understand, Mother," the girl replied coolly. "He can have all the playthings he wants. I'm only interested in the title of Princess Consort."
Lady Shangshu patted her daughter's hand, satisfied. Now that's the attitude of a future Empress.
Prince An, still kneeling, lowered his head in humiliation. One day, he vowed bitterly, I'll repay this humiliation tenfold.
The Emperor noticed the resentment etched across Prince An's face. This ungrateful pup dared to covet my woman—and even now has the audacity to sulk?
I treated him like a true heir, paved his road, shielded him from storms. And for what? To raise a wolf in my house?
Time passed. Finally, the group of physicians entered one by one and began checking Wenyao's pulse.
From a distance, the ministers couldn't see clearly. They assumed something dire had happened.
Was she poisoned?
The royal consort was surrounded by physicians. The Emperor hovered anxiously at her side.
The Empress Dowager, annoyed by the fuss, fanned herself impatiently. This woman—first seducing him in my palace, now putting on a show in court? Shameless vixen.
The physicians compared notes silently. No one dared speak.
The Emperor lost patience. "Speak!"
The Head Physician hesitated before asking, "Has the Consort's appetite changed recently?"
"She hasn't eaten well in days," the Emperor answered before Wenyao could. "She's nauseous every morning."
"Any changes in sleep?"
"She's always tired."
"Energy levels?"
…
For every question, the Emperor had an answer.
Finally, the physicians looked at each other with dawning certainty. In unison, they dropped to their knees.
"Congratulations, Your Majesty! Her Grace is with child!"
The Emperor pulled Wenyao into a tight embrace—then abruptly let go, worried about pressing too hard against her stomach.
"I—I have a child..." he whispered, overwhelmed. "Wenyao... I have a child."
Moved by the emotion in his voice, her eyes reddened. "It's all because of Your Majesty's kindness. Even the heavens were touched... and gifted us this child."
"Thank you, Wenyao. Thank you."
"Your Majesty~"
The two whispered sweetly to each other, oblivious to everything around them.
Back in the main hall, the loud and disorganized celebration by the physicians, combined with the surrounding commotion about Prince An, meant no one clearly heard the announcement—especially not the Empress Dowager or the Imperial Noble Consort.