Qin Gugu had prepared a new prescription to stabilize the pregnancy.
The medicinal decoction was served in a white jade bowl, dark brown in color, its bitterness threefold stronger than before. I lifted it, and even before drinking, the acrid taste churned my stomach.
"Take it slowly, Young Master," Chunyu said softly beside me. "Qin Gugu added Ziheche and Chuanxuduan. They're the best for nourishing the fetus and strengthening the body."
Ziheche. I knew what that was—the placenta of a woman, long regarded as a miraculous tonic for replenishing essence and blood. Ordinary households could never obtain it, yet Xiao Yuhuang had procured the finest, properly prepared stock within days.
I held my breath and slowly drank the entire bowl. The bitterness spread from my tongue down my throat, making tears spring to my eyes. Chunyu hurriedly offered candied fruits, but I shook my head.
"Save them," I said. "I still have to drink the second dose later."
Three doses a day, at the hours of Chen, Wu, and You, without fail. Xiao Yuhuang personally watched me drink, checking even the bottom of the bowl. Her gaze was so focused it bordered on obsessive, as if I were drinking not medicine, but a life-saving elixir.
Yet my body did not improve.
The morning sickness worsened. I vomited at dawn, after meals, sometimes even at the smell of the medicine. Of everything I ate, three out of ten portions could be retained at best. In less than half a month, my already slender frame grew even thinner, with only my lower abdomen gradually showing the faintest curve.
Every time Qin Gugu checked my pulse, her brows knitted tighter.
That day, after finishing the examination, she went as usual to report to Xiao Yuhuang. I gently caught her sleeve. "Gugu, please tell me the truth."
The elder physician paused.
"My body," I lowered my voice, "how is it really?"
Qin Gugu was silent for a long time. The candlelight flickered across her face, and the spring rain outside drizzled with a sharp chill.
"Young Master," she finally said, her voice aged and weary, "I have practiced medicine for forty years, and I have never seen a pulse like yours—your heart pulse is weak, floating like a wandering thread; your kidney qi is failing, like embers dying—but this fetus… has rooted itself deeply, drawing essence and blood from your body without pause."
I laid my hand on my lower abdomen. It remained flat, yet at my fingertips I seemed to feel the faintest stir—a pulse of life, our bloodline growing within me.
"So," I heard my own voice, unnervingly calm, "if this continues, what will happen?"
Qin Gugu closed her eyes. "The oil runs out, the lamp burns low."
Four words, sharp as ice daggers, piercing my chest.
The rain outside grew heavier.
When Xiao Yuhuang returned, damp from the weather, she removed her outer robe and sat by the bed, instinctively reaching to feel my forehead.
I grasped her hand and pressed it over my lower abdomen.
She stiffened. "What is it?"
"He's moving," I whispered. "Just now, I felt him move."
Her hand trembled sharply, then she pressed her palm gently against mine. We held our breath for a long while, though the movement did not recur. Yet her eyes shone, like a lamp suddenly lit in the dark night.
"Yu Zhi…" Her voice was hoarse. "He's really moving?"
"Yes." I nodded, looking into her eyes. "Xiao Yuhuang, I want this child."
The smile on her face slowly froze.
"I want him," I repeated, each word deliberate, "no matter the cost."
The candle sputtered, flaring for a moment. Her expression sank slowly in the flickering light.
"What did Qin Gugu tell you?" she asked, her voice cold.
"She told me the truth," I met her gaze steadily. "She said that my body might not survive until delivery."
The air tightened sharply.
Xiao Yuhuang slowly withdrew her hand and stood. Her back to me, her shoulders straight and tense like a drawn bow. Outside, the rain raged, making the silence inside the room feel like a tomb.
After a long pause, she spoke, her voice breaking somewhere deep within:
"I have made my decision."
"What decision?"
"This child," she turned to face me, her eyes frozen in pain, "cannot be kept."