Hearing her words, the Emperor finally felt the heavy stone weighing on his heart lift. He smiled warmly and said, "Yao'er, you truly carry the grace of a mother of the nation. Here, drink some soup. You've been working too hard lately—you need to nourish yourself more."
He brought the soup to Meng Wenyao's lips, but oddly, she didn't want to drink it. She frowned slightly and pushed the bowl away.
"I'm full. I really can't eat right now."
The Emperor frowned, concerned by her slender, almost fragile figure—none of the usual postpartum fullness he expected. "Yao'er, you're just too picky. You hardly eat enough as it is. How can your body handle all my attention if you're this thin?"
Meng Wenyao muttered quietly to herself: I barely get any sleep, and I don't eat well either. No wonder I'm not gaining any weight.
"Well, that's because you never let me rest," she said. "No matter how much I beg, you won't stop. I can't sleep well at night and barely eat during the day—how am I supposed to get stronger?"
The Emperor looked slightly embarrassed, then pulled her into his lap with tenderness. "I don't know what's come over me. I just can't help it when I see you. You've worked so hard, Yao'er. Come on, have just one more sip."
Reluctantly, she took a sip—but before the soup even touched her throat, she suddenly spit it out. Her stomach churned violently, and everything she'd eaten earlier turned upside down.
The Emperor's face went pale with panic as he quickly summoned the imperial physicians. Within half an hour, the entire Fu Ning Palace was buzzing with excitement—everyone had been rewarded by the Emperor's generous hand.
The Emperor was so overjoyed he refused to put Meng Wenyao down, holding her firmly in his lap as he repeated, "Yao'er, we're going to have another child."
Meng Wenyao had known she was pregnant a month earlier; now she just played along with the Emperor's joy, pretending to be excited as she hugged him.
When the Emperor reached the height of his happiness, she suddenly smiled and said, "Your Majesty, I have a feeling this time it's twins."
"Really? Yao'er, I can't tell you how happy that makes me. Whether it's twins or not, even if it's just a princess, I'll be overjoyed."
As he spoke, his expression darkened.
Meng Wenyao knew exactly why—he was thinking about that dream. She covered her mouth to hide her smile, wishing she could peek inside his mind to see how conflicted he was.
The Emperor indeed recalled the dream from over a month ago. Was heaven trying to warn him? The dream showed two children calling her "Mother," only to be killed by Prince An.
Even if this pregnancy wasn't twins, he already had two children. Would Prince An really try to kill them both?
In the dream, the two children called her "Mother" before Prince An took their lives.
Remembering that Meng Wenyao had lost a child before, the Emperor's heart grew cold with dread. His children—his blood—he couldn't protect them. Was he doomed to suffer the same loss again?
He could no longer just sit back and defend. How long could one guard against a thief? What if one day he failed? He wouldn't be able to bear it.
That very day, after leaving Fu Ning Palace for the Imperial Study, the Emperor issued his first order concerning Prince An.
Once the decision was made, a huge weight lifted from him. He had once treated Prince An sincerely.
But as Prince An grew up, obsessed only with the throne, scheming in court and palace alike, the Emperor had tolerated it again and again. This time, he would no longer endure it—no matter how much the Empress Dowager hated him.
The next day, a young imperial physician came to take Meng Wenyao's pulse. He apologized immediately, "Please forgive me, Your Highness. My master went to Prince An's residence but was detained by the Empress Dowager and not allowed to return. I had no choice but to come myself."
Meng Wenyao had just conceived and the pulse check was a formality. She didn't pay much attention but was more concerned about Prince An's condition.
"Is Prince An ill?"
The physician nodded gravely. "Yes, Your Highness, very seriously. The Empress Dowager even rushed to his side in the separate palace. I fear the prognosis is poor."
"Such a pity. I wish I could go see him myself, but my condition won't allow it. After all, he is the Emperor's closest nephew."
With the combined efforts and earnest hopes of the Empress Dowager and the physicians, Prince An passed away three days later at the age of twenty-one.
Prince An was buried alongside Meng Wenxian. Meng Wenyao felt some comfort as she told the Emperor, "At least those two lovers are united in death."
The Emperor held her hand silently, hiding the truth that he had personally ordered Prince An's death. He feared she would think him cruel and cold, but for her and the children's safety, he would do anything.
After Prince An's death, the Empress Dowager moved to a monastery to cultivate, and the Emperor offered no objections.
Months later, Meng Wenyao gave birth to a pair of healthy twins—a boy and a girl.
That day, the Emperor was inspecting the army camp outside the capital when he received news of the birth. He immediately turned back, but just as he reached the city gates, hearing the good news of mother and children's safety, he was so shocked he fell off his horse.
Fortunately, the guards reacted quickly and caught him before he was hurt. Still, the people of the capital saw the Emperor's fall and whispered among themselves.
Upon returning to the palace, the Emperor was ready to punish the physicians, saying, "There's still half a month until her due date. How did she deliver early? How could you let this happen?"
Meng Wenyao, stifling her fatigue, reassured him, "Your Majesty, I'm carrying twins. Premature births are normal for twins. Please don't blame the physicians. The children are healthy, and Your Majesty should reward them generously."
Joy kept sweeping through the palace, and after his outburst, the Emperor quickly calmed down. The palace was filled with happiness.
One day, Nurse Hua was taking care of the eldest prince and whispered to Meng Wenyao, "Your Highness, you don't know, on the day you gave birth, the Emperor was so scared he fell off his horse. The entire capital is talking about it. They say he's not a first-time father, so why is he so nervous? Everyone's laughing at him behind his back."
Meng Wenyao frowned. "That could undermine the dignity of the Son of Heaven. Someone should investigate and stop these rumors."
Nurse Hua chuckled, "Don't worry, Your Highness. The Emperor himself said in court that he's just anxious about you and the princes. Anyone who dares to harm you or the children will have to pay dearly, even if it costs him his reputation as a benevolent ruler."
She couldn't stop smiling—seeing the Emperor nervous over his consort made him more human and less like a distant ruler.
Meng Wenyao gazed fondly at their three children. For them, the Emperor was truly more a loving father and husband than a cold monarch.
In the years that followed, the couple had two more sons. Every new birth ignited the Emperor's excitement like it was the first time. He held Meng Wenyao tightly, never wanting to let her go, as if afraid she might disappear.
One night, the Emperor suddenly woke her from sleep.
"Your Majesty, what is it?" she murmured, half-asleep.
"Nothing. I just wanted to see if you're still alive," he said.
Meng Wenyao sighed, annoyed, "You're deliberately keeping me from a good night's sleep. You promised me you'd give me a break last night but didn't keep your word."
The Emperor meant no harm. Deep down, he just feared the day he would wake and find it was all a dream—no Meng Wenyao, no children, nothing at all.