The Slender Waist-Chapter 809 - 574: The Bond Is Not Yet Severed_2

"Feng Shi’er Niang is the Emperor’s rightful wife, yet she has been confined in Huaxi for a long time. Rumors abound in the streets, and I believe this damages the dignity of the Royal Family. I beseech Your Majesty to show mercy and pardon her this time."

Pei Jue looked at him, pursing his lips repeatedly.

"The affairs of my household need not trouble you, Minister."

Tang Shaogong replied, "The Emperor’s household affairs are also affairs of the state. If Your Majesty finds it difficult to speak of the matter, may I suggest that I personally go to Huaxi to mediate?"

Pei Jue asked, "Is the Ministry of Rites too idle? Or do you wish to return to the countryside and plow the fields yourself?"

Tang Shaogong immediately lowered his head and cupped his hands in apology. "Your humble servant understands his error."

Tang Shaogong failed to obtain the decree, further solidifying the court officials’ belief. It seemed the Emperor was truly intending to discipline Feng Shi’er Niang and prevent her from growing arrogant due to his favor.

The old ministers were quite pleased, shedding tears of joy.

Between the empire and beauty, the Emperor ultimately chose his empire...

-

At the end of December, the cold winds howled.

The new year was approaching.

Perhaps due to Feng Yun’s confinement, the atmosphere in Changmen Academy was particularly subdued this year. Granny Han oversaw preparations, hastily organizing minimal supplies, while the servants half-heartedly pasted "fortune" characters on the windows and doors, sighing frequently.

The mistress had been confined for months, and the Emperor showed no signs of relenting.

To them, the excuse of "failing to greet the Emperor" was merely a pretext.

At its core, the issue was tied to external rumors—the Emperor was wary of Changmen’s retinue, fearing the mistress might consolidate military power and resist. He wanted her to voluntarily disband the retinue or have it forcibly integrated...

The household was deeply worried; how could they have the heart to celebrate the new year?

As the eve of the new year approached, the speculation grew increasingly rampant.

Feng Yun paid no heed, eating heartily and sleeping soundly every day, replenishing the exhaustion of the past few years...

Among her mother’s old books, she found ones on pregnancy and childcare.

From diet and sleep to physical activity, she meticulously read them all.

Thus, after several months, though her body had grown heavier, she radiated vigor. Her skin was white and soft, tender enough to appear unearthly, like she had no bones—each time Pei Jue came for a clandestine night visit, he struggled to leave her side...

Last night, Pei Jue had spent the night at Changmen.

He left before dawn, unnoticed.

After his departure, Feng Yun dozed off again, waking to find the morning light had already broken, and the faint sound of drizzle echoed outside.

Some careless soul had neglected to close the doors and windows, letting the wind seep in through the cracks, chilling the room.

Feng Yun tightened her blanket, preparing to call Xiaoman to close the windows, when she heard a voice that could only belong to a dream.

"Has Mother risen yet? Your son has come to pay his respects."

Feng Yun felt as if struck by lightning, her heart pounding violently like a drum within her chest.

All her senses were overwhelmed by the sudden, shocking moment, her breath suspended.

Was she dreaming?

Was she awake, or lost within a dream?

She pinched her thigh deeply with her nails but felt no pain.

Only trembling.

She trembled uncontrollably, overcome with emotion.

"Queque..."

"Queque!"

The curtain shifted slightly.

A thin little boy walked past the screen, approaching the edge of her bed, accompanied by a palace maid smiling warmly beside him.

"Mistress, the young prince woke early today and has been waiting outside for half an hour, simply to offer his greetings."

Feng Yun looked at her.

It was Queque’s wet nurse, someone deeply fond of him.

But she had been killed by Feng Ying for fabricated reasons when Queque was only three. By the time Feng Yun received news and rushed over, not even her body remained. It was said her corpse had been wrapped in straw mats and carted out of the palace with the night soil.

Feng Yun stared at her in disbelief, then looked again at Queque.

"How... how have you come here?"

The wet nurse smiled gently, glancing at Queque. "Your Highness."

Queque responded, bowing formally before Feng Yun.

His hair was still damp, and his complexion soft and radiant, his entire face veiled in a mist-like glow, pale and ethereal, as if stepping forth from a watercolor painting.

"Your son heard Mother has been unwell and was deeply worried. At the break of dawn, he could no longer resist coming here. Has your son disturbed your peace?"

"No disturbance, no disturbance, your timing... is perfect. Your mother misses you, thinking of you at all times."

Feng Yun wanted to throw off her quilt and share the joyous news of an impending sibling, but her body felt as heavy as lead, refusing to move.

She reached out toward Queque. "Come, my sweet child, come to your mother... your mother wishes to speak with you."

Queque offered a faint smile, bowing once again, his voice tinged with sorrow.

"I beg Mother’s forgiveness for my rudeness. The divide between the living and the dead cannot be crossed... Your son dares not approach and can only watch from afar..."

"Queque..."

Tears streamed down Feng Yun’s face like broken pearls, her sobs swallowed by anguish.

"Please don’t grieve, Mother..." Queque sighed softly.

Despite his youth, he carried an adult’s expression of resignation.

"The hour is upon us; your son must depart. Please take care, Mother!"

"Queque!" Feng Yun extended her hand, desperate to hold onto him, unyielding in her grasp.

"Don’t go."

She didn’t want Queque to leave.

She didn’t want him to disappear.

She screamed, her voice tearing through the air.

But alas, it escaped her lips as weak as a mosquito’s buzz...

"Come back! Queque!"

Queque slowly retreated, gazing at her, smiling all the while.

"The bond between mother and son remains intact. Your son will return to see you. Take good care of yourself, Mother!"

He waved his hand.

Slowly, he waved.

The wet nurse remained by his side, smiling throughout.

"Queque!"

Feng Yun’s rigid body suddenly convulsed, propelling her upright from the bed, drenched in sweat, her face already soaked with tears.

The room was empty.

The candlelight flickered faintly.

The morning had yet to arrive.

Outside, the drizzle echoed softly, resembling water drops.

"Mistress—" Xiaoman heard the commotion and rushed in, finding Feng Yun with tears streaming down her face.

"What’s wrong, Mistress? What happened?"

Feng Yun frowned in pain, a sudden cramp radiating from her lower abdomen. Having experienced childbirth before, her expression shifted drastically. Immediately, she clutched her abdomen and ordered through gritted teeth.

"Summon the midwife!"

"Notify Doctor Yao."

"Seal off Changmen Academy."

"...Send Ye Chuang to the palace to fetch the Emperor."