Chapter Four: Contending for Supremacy (Part Two)

Page 1 of 3

II. Soul Lost on a Snowy Night

The weather was growing colder. Perhaps out of fear that Xiangbao would come to bother him again, Shi Lian had someone deliver a whole bundle of calligraphy practice books to her. Though Xiangbao was indignant for quite some time, she couldn’t help but admire the beautiful script. With nothing else to occupy her time, she began to copy the characters for amusement. Time was abundant, and thanks to Shi Lian’s books, Xiangbao had already learned to recognize several characters, shedding the label of illiterate.

Outside, snow was falling. Wrapped in a white fox-fur cloak, Xiangbao reclined on her couch. The bronze brazier was burning fiercely, but even so, it could not keep out the bone-deep chill. The fire cast a glow upon her face, making her cheeks flush, though her hands and feet remained icy cold.

Night had settled deeply. After much insistence, she had finally sent Xile off to rest; now, in the vast room, only Xiangbao remained.

Suddenly, the door creaked open.

Icy wind, laden with snowflakes, swept in abruptly. Xiangbao, always sensitive to the cold, could not help but shiver. She clambered down from the couch with some difficulty to close the door.

A pale, slender hand pressed against the door. Xiangbao paused, slightly startled, and looked up—it was Yue Nu.

“It’s so late. What brings you here?” Xiangbao instinctively stepped back.

Yue Nu’s face was obscured in the shadows. “His Majesty has given orders: the child cannot remain.”

“This is my child!” Xiangbao shielded her rounded belly.

“You must understand your situation.”

“I don’t need your concern.” Xiangbao clenched her fists. “Please leave. The palace guards are everywhere outside. You are Wei Qin’s betrothed; I do not wish to harm you.”

“Betrothed? How laughable,” Yue Nu chuckled softly. “Are you still deceiving yourself?”

“What do you mean?” Xiangbao’s expression changed.

“Isn’t the one he loves you?”

“You’re talking nonsense!”

“Whether it’s nonsense, you know better than anyone.”

Anger and anxiety surged within Xiangbao. Suddenly, a sharp pain twisted in her abdomen, intensifying rapidly. She doubled over, clutching her belly. Yue Nu stepped forward, grasped her wrist to check her pulse, then frowned slightly before letting go, watching as Xiangbao collapsed to her knees in agony.

“It seems it is fate,” Yue Nu remarked coolly, casting a last glance at the curled figure on the floor, then turned and closed the door behind her.

Pain.

A tidal wave of terror and agony crashed over her. Xiangbao pressed her hands to her abdomen, curling on the floor. The heavy door shut out the wind and snow, but also sealed her in lonely isolation.

“Xile...” She tried to call out, hands pressed tightly to her belly, but her voice was as faint as a mosquito’s, the pain almost robbing her of consciousness.

Biting her lip hard, she managed to knock over the earthen jar by the door. The dull sound of shattering echoed through the room.

No one came.

“Someone... someone...” Xiangbao’s fear was overwhelming.

No one. Not a single soul...

At the entrance of the Hall of Beautiful Women, Shi Lian arrived with wine and food to warm the guards on duty.

“Has anyone gone inside?” he asked.

“No, not even a fly has gotten in,” one guard laughed, accepting the food.

“In this dead of winter, what flies could there be?” another joked.

“But it was strange—so late at night, Yue Nu came to deliver a tonic to the lady, said it was for her health,” the guard added, taking a swig of wine.

Shi Lian’s expression darkened. “Yue Nu was here?”

“Yes, just left.”

Emotions he could not name rose within him. Shi Lian thrust the wine into the guard’s hands and rushed through the palace gates. The guards exchanged bewildered glances but hurried after him.

The corridors were eerily quiet—so quiet it was unsettling. Not a single maid was in sight.

Snow fell in silence.

Passing through the clattering gallery, Shi Lian saw a maid slumped in the corridor. On closer inspection, she had been struck with a needle. Realizing Xiangbao must be in danger, Shi Lian quickened his pace toward her chambers.

Thudding footsteps echoed urgently through the silent night.

The door stood wide open. Xiangbao lay collapsed at the threshold, blood staining the snow beneath her.

She was exhausted, having used the last of her strength to open the door, only to find no one waiting outside. No one came to save her, yet she dared not lose consciousness—because... there was still a fragile life in her womb, struggling alongside her.

Never had she felt her child’s presence so acutely as she did now, the little one fighting to be born...

“Xiangbao!”

Who was calling her? She struggled to raise her head, seeing only a blurred figure. Sweat stung her eyes painfully.

“Save... my child...”

“Someone! Fetch a physician!” Shi Lian rushed forward, gathering Xiangbao into his arms, his voice so loud it startled even himself.

Her body was ice-cold, almost devoid of warmth, but her mind remained lucid. The guards, finally understanding the gravity of the situation, hurried off in a panic.

Shi Lian carried Xiangbao into the room, wrapping her shivering body in blankets. “Hold on a little longer, the physician will be here soon. Before His Majesty left for campaign, he ordered the best doctors in Wu to remain on call in the palace. They’ll be here any moment.”

Xiangbao bit her lip unconsciously, struggling to stay awake until the metallic tang of blood seeped into her mouth.

“Who are you?” The newly-awakened maid, seeing so many guards in the Hall of Beautiful Women, was both shocked and angry.

“The lady is about to give birth.”

“If she’s about to give birth, what are you men doing here?!”

Hearing the commotion outside, Shi Lian frowned. “Let them in.”

In a flurry of footsteps, Xile burst in with a group of maids. They all froze at the sight before them.

“Someone’s already fetching the physician. As for tonight, you’d best pretend none of this happened. Besides tarnishing the lady’s reputation, your failure to protect her is a crime punishable by death.”

The maids nodded in terrified compliance.

Seeing her mistress leaning against Shi Lian, Xile finally felt it improper and stepped forward with a soft cloth. “General, let me help wipe the lady’s sweat.”

Shi Lian glanced at her and let go. Xile helped Xiangbao to lie down, carefully wiping the cold sweat from her brow.

Suddenly, with a loud bang, the door was flung open, and wind and snow rushed in.

Shi Lian hurriedly wrapped Xiangbao tighter in blankets and shouted, “What are you thinking?! If the lady catches cold, then what? Where is the physician?”

“We went to the pharmacy where the physician is staying, but there was no one there. The guard said the doctor left the palace last night and hasn’t returned...” The guard was still dusted with snow, his voice urgent.

“What?!” Xile cried out, lost for a moment.

“I’ll go outside to fetch a doctor,” Shi Lian declared, rising to his feet. “Wait for my return.”

Xiangbao opened her eyes and looked at him, her lips moving ever so slightly.

Page 2 of 3

He understood; she said, “All right.”

He dashed out the door.

All other sounds faded, but Xiangbao could feel the small life inside her struggling desperately...

She gritted her teeth and looked down, watching bright blood seep through her skirt.

“It’s just childbirth—every woman goes through it, you’ll be fine, my lady... don’t frighten me...” Xile stammered, terrified by Xiangbao’s state.

The taste of blood lingered in her mouth, searing pain radiating from her lower belly.

“My lady... my lady...” Xile’s voice was trembling on the verge of tears.

Xiangbao gripped the blanket tightly. “Go... see if Shi Lian is back...”

Xile stumbled out in a panic. A moment later, the door opened again—she rushed back in, her cheeks red from the cold and her face filled with terror. “My lady... it’s bad! Prime Minister Wu has surrounded the palace with his men!”

Xiangbao closed her eyes. She should have realized it sooner—how could it be mere coincidence that the physician was gone? The doctor would not return. Wu Zixu was surely eager to rid himself of her, the troublemaker; if he could dispose of both mother and child, wouldn’t that suit him perfectly?

Shi Lian returned to the palace, midwife in tow, but was stopped outside.

“If anything happens to the lady, you’ll answer to the king when he returns,” Shi Lian warned.

The Wu soldiers exchanged glances, then burst out laughing.

“Ha! And who’s this dog?”

“Oh, he’s a surrendered officer from Yue!”

Shi Lian gripped his sword. “I’ll say it once more: stand aside.”

“You dare—” Before he could finish, Shi Lian’s sword flashed, severing his head.

Shi Lian, eyes red with fury, cut down several Wu soldiers in quick succession. Noticing a maid peeking out, he turned to the midwife. “Follow her in.”

The midwife, never having seen such violence, was frozen with fear.

“Go!” Shi Lian ordered, sword in hand.

Startled, the midwife ran inside.

When Xiangbao was on the brink of despair, a maid led a middle-aged woman into the room. The midwife, though visibly shaken, quickly composed herself at the sight of Xiangbao on the couch.

“Move aside! Why are you all crowding here? Fetch hot water, quickly!” she commanded, simultaneously stripping off the blood-soaked skirt and parting Xiangbao’s legs. “Push! The water’s already broken—if the baby doesn’t come out now, it’ll be in danger...”

There was no time to question her identity. Xiangbao followed her instructions, gritting her teeth and pushing with all her strength. The maids, previously running about aimlessly, finally had a leader and hurried to prepare hot water.

Xiangbao bit down on the cloth the woman placed in her mouth, eyes squeezed shut. The pain was so intense it felt as if she were being torn apart...

“Push! Push!”

Xiangbao whimpered through the cloth.

“My lady... the child... the child is out!” Xile suddenly cried.

Xiangbao stared blankly at the ceiling. The pain eased slightly. Her child... was born?

She laughed—a hoarse, breathless laugh.

Her pale face was streaked with sweat-soaked hair, but her lips curved in a faint smile. How miraculous, to bring forth this little life from her own womb, a child bound to her by blood.

Her own flesh and blood...

Just moments ago, the torment had been unbearable; now, happiness crept quietly into her heart, filling it completely.

Such a feeling of happiness...

But that vision was shattered abruptly by the sound of sobbing nearby.

“What a tragedy...” the midwife sighed.

Xiangbao was stunned, momentarily unable to comprehend.

“It’s a girl,” Xile murmured, tears streaming down her face.

“A girl? I knew it, I just knew it...” Xiangbao smiled, her voice rough and broken.

Her mind in chaos, Xiangbao suddenly realized—why wasn’t the baby crying?

She tried to lift her weak arm, wanting to sit up. For the first time, she hated her own frailty. Xile wiped her tears and hurried to help Xiangbao sit.

Propped against a soft pillow, Xiangbao stared intently at the child in the midwife’s arms.

“Give her to me.”

The woman hesitated, but finally placed the baby in Xiangbao’s arms.

Xiangbao cradled her carefully. The tiny, pink body was soft and warm, the skin wrinkled like a little old man, eyes gently closed—so adorable...

Especially the little nose—it looked just like Fuchai’s.

She patted the baby’s bottom lightly. Not even a whimper.

“She won’t survive,” the woman sighed beside her.

Won’t survive?

Darkness threatened to engulf her. Xiangbao shook her head, fighting to keep her wits. She stared at the small child in her arms—her daughter. Her body was still warm, her tiny chest rising and falling ever so slightly... struggling so hard to breathe...

“She’s breathing,” Xiangbao rasped.

“It’s too late. The water’s been broken too long—she won’t make it,” the woman said with pity. “If only we’d been a bit earlier...”

“Xile!” Xiangbao cut her off abruptly.

“Yes, my lady,” Xile answered nervously.

“Help me up.”

“My lady, your body—”

Xiangbao ignored her, taking a little garment she had sewn herself over nearly four months, wrapping it awkwardly around her daughter. It was little more than a rough scrap of cloth, and ugly at that—but it was made by her own hands.

She often imagined making all her child’s clothes herself—would the child protest, she wondered? Maybe her needlework would improve in time...

She, Xiangbao, was a mother now...

Summoning strength she didn’t know she had, Xiangbao stood, holding her daughter.

“My lady, where are you going?” Xile cried, rushing to support her.

“To find a doctor outside the palace.” Xiangbao tried to shake her off, but her strength failed her.

“My lady...” Xile wept.

Page 3 of 3

Low sobbing rose around her.

Why? Xiangbao looked at them in confusion. Did they think she was pitiful? She only wanted to save her daughter’s life.

Seeing Xiangbao heading for the door with the child, Xile gave in, hurriedly draping an extra layer over her and aiding her to the threshold.

There, standing outside in the snow, was a man, snow piled thickly atop him—he looked almost like a snowman.

It was Shi Lian, his sword still in hand, blood staining the blade.

“General Shi, that child won’t make it. Please, persuade the lady,” the midwife urged.

Shi Lian gazed at her silently.

“She’s still breathing,” Xiangbao insisted stubbornly.

“Go back,” he said quietly.

Xiangbao ignored him, turning determinedly toward the palace gates, only to collapse in the snow as her legs gave out.

Two people caught her, one on either side.

Xile on one, Shi Lian on the other.

With Xile’s support, Xiangbao, clutching her child, moved toward the gates, Shi Lian following in silence.

The sky was pitch-black; the palace gates were tightly closed, torches burning on either side.

“I must leave the palace,” Xiangbao declared, holding the tiny child tight.

“Prime Minister Wu has ordered that no one may leave,” came the response.

“I must leave,” Xiangbao repeated, gritting her teeth.

The guards glanced uneasily at the pale-faced woman before them, then all looked past her—bowing their heads in silence.

“Lady Xishi, it’s late. It would be best for you to return and rest,” a voice called from behind.

Turning, Xiangbao saw Wu Zixu, cloaked in fur, sleeves folded, standing just behind her.

“I must leave,” Xiangbao said, each word heavy and fierce.

“Lady, don’t be willful. It’s late—please return and rest,” Wu Zixu replied, his eyes inscrutable.

Clenching her fists, Xiangbao looked down at her child. The baby’s lips were turning blue. She thought, perhaps she looked like a madwoman now.

“Prime Minister Wu, I only wish to take my daughter to a physician,” she pleaded softly. Even if everyone believed this little life could not survive; even if all deemed her doomed—she was the mother. This child was born of her own flesh and blood. As long as the baby still drew breath, as long as she lived, Xiangbao could not give up—no matter if the entire world did, she could not.

“Escort Lady Xishi back to her chambers,” Wu Zixu ordered without a blink.

So merciless.

“Who dares come forward?” Shi Lian stepped up, sword drawn, standing protectively before Xiangbao. The blade, gleaming with blood in the snow, deterred all.

No one dared approach.

Xiangbao bowed her head, cradling her daughter tightly.

All around, the world was blanketed in white, the wind and snow biting cold.

And then, in the midst of the piercing wind, a faint cry rang out.

Xiangbao stared in disbelief, slowly lowering her head to look at her child.

The baby, whose eyes had always been closed, now opened them—dark pupils shining like the brightest stars in the night. She was... looking at her...

But before Xiangbao could rejoice, the eyes closed again.

With trembling fingers, Xiangbao stroked the blue-tinged little face—it was cold as ice...

Her child, carried for ten months, born with such hardship... was this their only meeting?

“She’s truly gone,” Xiangbao said, looking up at Wu Zixu, then at Shi Lian, then at Xile, then at the Wu soldiers guarding the gate—smiling as she spoke.

Even Wu Zixu was momentarily taken aback.

“Let’s go back,” Xiangbao murmured.

She gently shook off Xile’s hand and, holding her child, returned to her room.

As she turned, tears fell like rain.

She staggered, and a pair of hands steadied her.

“Thank you,” she said, glancing back at Shi Lian.

He did not reply.

“What a pity,” the midwife muttered, wiping her tears. “Who would have thought the child would cry out and even open her eyes to see her mother? I thought she wouldn’t even be able to do that—a miracle...”

“Be silent,” Shi Lian cut her off coldly.

Xiangbao gazed at her child, murmuring, “Perhaps... she didn’t want to leave either...”

“Sigh, it’s snowing so heavily. The general came knocking at my door in the middle of the night, asking me to help deliver a baby. When I heard it was a lady from the palace, I was startled. Is there no physician in the palace? Oh, that was Prime Minister Wu just now, wasn’t it? What a sin, making things so hard for a woman. If only I’d been a bit earlier, maybe there would have been hope...”

If only she’d been a bit earlier...

Xiangbao stared blankly at the lifeless child in her arms, her heart torn in two.

“Someone, see her out,” Shi Lian said impatiently.

“Wait,” Xiangbao called after her. “Take this child and bury her outside.” She gazed once more at her daughter, then placed the little body in the woman’s arms.

“This...” the woman hesitated.

“This palace is no place for people to stay,” Xiangbao said softly. Without another glance, she turned and walked back into her room.

“As you wish,” came Shi Lian’s voice behind her.

“So much money?” the woman exclaimed in surprise.

“Go,” Shi Lian said quietly.

Along the echoing corridor, past the lotus pond, Xiangbao walked silently back to her room.

She sat quietly on her couch, watching coldly as Xile directed the maids to clean the chaotic room, removing all the blood-stained bedding.

Her daughter had left her with only a fleeting glance—then vanished from her life.

The snow passed, and the child was never mentioned again. She hadn’t even... been given a name.