Chapter Three: Releasing the Tiger Back to the Mountain (Part One)

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I. Zheng Dan Is Pregnant

The news of Xiang Bao’s miscarriage reached Fan Li’s ears three months after the event.

“We went to such great lengths, yet we failed to drive a wedge between Fu Chai and Wu Zixu. It seems we must use her,” Gou Jian said calmly.

“This winter is bitterly cold,” Fan Li remarked, gazing out the window, his words seemingly unrelated.

Indeed, this winter was cold.

Xiang Bao had made herself a robe, but it was utterly unwearable. Her needlework had never been anything to boast about.

Since that night, Fu Chai had stayed in the Drunken Moon Pavilion every evening, but he never touched her; he merely held her as they slept. Xiang Bao could not fathom his thoughts.

Until one day—

“What did you say? Zheng Dan is pregnant?” Xiang Bao’s eyes widened in disbelief.

Hua Mei nodded, worry etched across her face.

“She… has been acting differently lately,” Xiang Bao chose her words carefully. “Do you know why? Why did Shi Lian bring assassins into her garden that night? Who was their target?”

A flash of panic crossed Hua Mei’s eyes, quickly concealed. “There’s no difference. She’s simply forgotten her place, dazzled by the luxury before her.”

“She said… she just wants to survive.” Xiang Bao spoke slowly, watching Hua Mei’s expression.

“Don’t believe her nonsense. That’s just an excuse,” Hua Mei frowned.

Xiang Bao said no more. After sending Hua Mei off, she returned to her couch and sat, lost in thought. She spent the entire afternoon in a daze, unable to make sense of anything.

“It’s cold, be careful not to catch a chill.” Zi Ruo closed the window, draping a blanket over Xiang Bao’s legs.

Xiang Bao nodded, leaned against the couch, and accidentally drifted into sleep.

A pair of hands gently disturbed her dreams, brushing her cheek. Xiang Bao wrinkled her nose and opened her eyes in annoyance—it was Fu Chai.

“What are you doing here?” Xiang Bao rubbed her eyes, muttering as she sat up.

“Watching you sleep.”

He paused his hand, and a shadow of annoyance crossed Xiang Bao’s brow. What was so interesting about sleep?

“What did Hua Mei tell you today?”

“Oh, she said Zheng Dan is pregnant.” Xiang Bao rose, realizing night had fallen; she’d slept the whole afternoon like a pig.

Fu Chai frowned slightly.

“What’s with that look? Aren’t you happy?” Xiang Bao turned, surprised, then waved her hand with a smile. “Don’t worry, I’m not jealous.”

Fu Chai gazed at her indifferently. “What’s there to be happy about? It’s not certain the child will be born.”

Xiang Bao was taken aback—what did he mean by that?

“Are you hungry?” he suddenly asked, changing the subject.

She knew this was his usual tactic, but Xiang Bao always nodded, never bothering to pursue the topic.

Night had fallen. Zheng Dan sat in her room, gently caressing her slightly rounded belly. Fu Chai had not visited since the day he encountered the woman impersonating Xi Shi in the garden—more than three months had passed.

A warm little life nestled in her palm, Zheng Dan unconsciously smiled. So this was the happiness of motherhood.

“Madam, the king has arrived,” a maid rushed in to announce.

Zheng Dan was surprised, but delighted. She quickly stood to tidy her hair. “Prepare supper at once.”

Standing in the cold wind, Zheng Dan donned a fur cloak to ward off the chill for the sake of her pregnancy. Fu Chai approached from afar, alone, without attendants. His tall figure exuded regal bearing; that man was the father of the child in her womb. The thought brought a special glow to Zheng Dan’s eyes.

“My lady,” he greeted with a smile. “It’s so cold, why stand in the wind?”

“I’m waiting for Your Majesty,” Zheng Dan tilted her head, smiling.

“Your smile could melt even this winter’s chill,” Fu Chai said, fastening her collar.

Zheng Dan lowered her gaze, blushing shyly, not noticing that his smile never reached his eyes.

“Let’s go inside.”

“Yes.”

Fu Chai led Zheng Dan indoors, where the bronze stove glowed with charcoal, warm and inviting.

“Have you dined, Your Majesty?” Zheng Dan asked softly.

Fu Chai glanced at the table. “Not yet.”

“Then allow me to serve you,” Zheng Dan smiled.

Fu Chai sat by the table, surveying the room. “Everyone, leave us.”

The servants quietly withdrew. Zheng Dan was surprised. “Shouldn’t they stay to assist?”

“You are enough,” Fu Chai smiled.

Zheng Dan blushed immediately.

Fu Chai raised his cup and drank. “Such bland flavors. Is there no wine?”

“One moment, Your Majesty, I will fetch it.” Zheng Dan hurried away.

Fu Chai watched her retreating figure. “Be careful, madam, watch your step.”

A warmth filled Zheng Dan’s heart, deepening her smile. But Fu Chai’s gaze grew steadily colder. He stared at the charcoal in the stove until Zheng Dan left the room, then calmly took a packet of medicine from his sleeve and poured it into her cup.

Zheng Dan, just outside, suddenly remembered she hadn’t asked what kind of wine he wanted. She rushed back, only to see Fu Chai rise and add something to her cup.

Her heart plummeted instantly. Steadying herself against the wall, Zheng Dan staggered away, her face pale as snow.

“Someone,” Fu Chai called impatiently after waiting a while.

“Here.”

“Go check on Madam, she’s been gone too long,” he ordered indifferently.

“Your Majesty.” Zheng Dan’s voice sounded just then. She was composed, holding a jar of wine. “This is wine I brewed myself, kept especially for you.”

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Fu Chai smiled, took the jar, and sniffed it. “Indeed, fine wine.”

He poured a full cup and handed it to a guard who had appeared silently behind him. The guard drank it in one gulp. Zheng Dan knew this was a test for poison. He harbored suspicion, yet he tested her?

The guard unharmed, Fu Chai changed cups, poured another, and sipped.

“How is it?” Zheng Dan asked with a smile.

“Excellent.”

“I’m tempted myself,” she said, switching cups to pour some for herself.

“You are pregnant, it’s not suitable for you to drink. Have tea instead.” Fu Chai took her original cup and pressed it to her lips.

Zheng Dan froze. Her pale lips touched the cool tea, and she shivered, instinctively pursing her lips.

“You’ve always been clever,” Fu Chai murmured in her ear, “so why did you do something so foolish?” The pose was intimate, but his words were icy.

“I… I don’t understand what you mean.”

“Didn’t I instruct the physician to prepare medicine for you?” Fu Chai stared at her, his gaze cold as ice. “Did you drink it?”

Terror filled Zheng Dan’s eyes as she trembled in his arms. “Why?”

“If you harbor forbidden thoughts, you must be prepared for the consequences.” He pinched her mouth, forcing the icy water down her throat.

The cold water chilled her to her core.

“Why…” Zheng Dan protested.

He released her, letting Zheng Dan collapse to the floor. “It’s cold, rest early.”

“I have one more question.” She bowed her head, clutching her skirt.

Fu Chai looked down at the woman sprawled on the floor.

“Was Xi Shi’s miscarriage your doing as well?” She slowly raised her head, her eyes bright and haunting, filled with a hidden sarcasm.

Fu Chai crouched to meet her gaze.

“Too much cleverness is not always a blessing,” he said quietly.

Zheng Dan smiled bitterly. “You’re truly pitiable.”

His long fingers closed around her slender neck, cutting off her breath.

“You’re afraid—afraid she’ll learn you killed your own child… Yun Ji was just an excuse…” Zheng Dan’s voice was hoarse and broken.

Yes, Yun Ji was an excuse, but for Zheng Dan, he didn’t even bother with excuses.

“Do you wish to die?” Fu Chai’s voice was cold as death.

Zheng Dan tugged at her lips. “If I die… Xi Shi will surely suspect…”

He loosened his grip, gazing at her indifferently.

Zheng Dan coughed softly.

“If she hears a word of tonight, you’ll die with no grave to your name,” he said, sweeping his sleeves as he strode away.

Suddenly released, cold air flooded her throat. Zheng Dan choked and coughed, tears streaming down her face.

He spared her life only because he feared Xiang Bao’s suspicion.

Leaving the Moon-Viewing Pavilion, the moon hung high in the sky.

“Your Majesty, Minister Wu wishes to discuss urgent matters,” a guard reported nearby.

“It’s late. Send him home.”

“But—”

Fu Chai cast a cold glance at the guard, who fell silent instantly, not daring to speak again.

“That fellow is probably plagued by nightmares again,” Fu Chai muttered, glancing at the moon before striding to the Drunken Moon Pavilion.

Zi Ruo was on night duty. Seeing Fu Chai, she calmly lifted the curtain for him. After three months, she was long accustomed.

Xiang Bao lay curled up on the couch, muttering in her sleep, brow furrowed—another nightmare. Fu Chai removed his outer robe, lay beside her, wiped the sweat from her brow, and gathered her into his arms.

She nestled quietly against him, gradually settling into peaceful sleep, a sweet smile on her lips. Fu Chai couldn’t help but lower his head and kiss her rosy lips. She unconsciously snuggled closer, his breath quickened, barely restraining his desire to devour her whole. He chuckled bitterly, “You truly are a calamity.”

He simply held her, moving no further.

In the Moon-Viewing Pavilion, not a single maid remained. Zheng Dan curled alone on the cold floor, calling weakly, “Someone… anyone…” but no one answered.

The charcoal in the stove gradually extinguished; the dishes on the table grew cold. She gritted her teeth, climbed onto the bed, wrapped herself in a blanket, but could not stop the chill rising from her heart.

Suddenly, agony twisted her belly, as if her soul were being torn from her body. The pain was unbearable… her face ashen. She knew no one would save her; if she couldn’t endure, she would die. Yet even in death, no one would shed a tear for her. So she must not die. If she died, too many would get their wish. She wanted to live—to witness the fate of all these people.

At dawn, the door finally opened and a maid entered. Zheng Dan lay motionless on the bed, hair disheveled, eyes closed.

“Madam?” The maid was terrified.

Zheng Dan did not respond. The maid gathered her courage, reached out to check her breath, and Zheng Dan’s eyes suddenly snapped open. The maid jumped back, falling to the floor.

“I’m not dead yet,” she rasped, her voice hoarse. “Prepare hot water. I wish to bathe.”

Stripping off her blood-stained robe, she stepped into the hot water. Steam rose around her as she slowly sat, crimson threads spreading through the water.

She closed her eyes, her face lifeless.

“Zheng Dan miscarried?” Xiang Bao listened to Zi Ruo’s chatter as she ate breakfast.

“Yes, it happened last night,” Zi Ruo nodded.

“How?”

“Perhaps her body was too weak, no luck for a child,” Zi Ruo said, pausing as she remembered Xiang Bao had lost a child as well.

Xiang Bao simply nodded, asking nothing more.

“Mother, mother…” Si Xiang ran in from outside, face flushed from haste.

“Slow down,” Xiang Bao smiled. “Have you eaten breakfast?”

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“Yes.” Si Xiang nestled beside Xiang Bao, staring at her.

Xiang Bao felt uneasy under his gaze. “What are you looking at?”

“What trick did you use to keep Father from getting angry?” Si Xiang tilted his head, full of curiosity.

“Why do you ask?”

“Hehe, Father hasn’t visited other women lately! Even yesterday, though he dined at Lady Zheng Dan’s, he still came to Mother in the end. I heard Minister Wu waited outside the hall all night, so angry his beard bristled.”

The smile froze on Xiang Bao’s lips. She glanced at Zi Ruo. “The king came last night?”

“Yes,” Zi Ruo replied. “He left early and told me not to wake you.”

Xiang Bao lowered her head in silence. Si Xiang, seeing she ignored him, ran off to play. Xiang Bao sat alone all day, eating nothing. Zi Ruo tried several times to persuade her, but it was as if she hadn’t heard.

“My lady, what are you thinking? It’s already dark,” Zi Ruo prompted, nudging her.

Xiang Bao raised her head blankly, then rose and returned to her room.

Fu Chai finished his affairs and went straight to the Drunken Moon Pavilion.

“Has she gone to bed?”

“Yes,” Zi Ruo replied, then added, “She’s been strange today.”

“Oh?” Fu Chai paused.

“The crown prince came this morning, after which she sat all day without responding to anything.”

“What did he say?”

Zi Ruo recounted Si Xiang’s visit. Fu Chai frowned, nodded, and entered the room.

There were no lamps lit; Xiang Bao lay curled on the couch, a small bundle. He removed his robe, lay down, and drew her into his arms.

She lay quietly, unmoving.

After a day dealing with Wu Zixu’s pestering, he was exhausted. Just as he drifted to sleep, a cold little hand slipped silently under his clothes, pressed to his chest, while another crept up his neck, hooking around him.

In the darkness, he opened his eyes, gaze burning.

The woman in his arms seemed unaware; she nervously undid his sash, pulled open the thin robe, and her soft lips touched his chest. His breathing grew rapid.

“Are you seducing me?” he whispered, his voice husky and restrained.

He reached up to touch her face, feeling its feverish heat; he could imagine how flushed she must be.

She pushed his hand away, retreated under the blanket, and covered herself tightly.

He chuckled softly, but soon couldn’t laugh at all…

When Xiang Bao crawled back into his arms, he felt her smooth, creamy skin—like a newborn. As if worried her fire wasn’t hot enough, she shifted gently.

He smiled bitterly; she needn’t have tried so hard. He’d been restraining himself for three months.

But tonight, she was truly unusual.

Seeing him unmoved, she bit her lip, slid her slender hand down his body. He gasped, eyes wide in disbelief, but darkness hid everything.

“What are you doing?” he panted, his voice dangerously low.

She said nothing. He gritted his teeth and swept her into his arms.

“Don’t you want me?” she whispered suddenly.

He frowned.

“Why?” she tilted her head as if looking at him.

He couldn’t see her expression, only felt her cool hair brush his hand.

“Are you afraid… I’ll bear your child?” she murmured.

He froze.

“What are you trying to say?” His voice was tense.

“Zheng Dan’s miscarriage—it was your doing, wasn’t it?”

He didn’t deny it.

“And me? Was it really because of Yun Ji?” she pressed.

He still didn’t deny it; he couldn’t.

“Do you really want a child so badly?” After a long pause, he asked suddenly.

Xiang Bao paused. She’d never considered it; her anger was simply at his deception. As for the child…

“Ah!” Before she could think, he thrust deeply, making her cry out in surprise, “You…”

He held her tight, burying his face in her neck. “You shouldn’t have provoked me…” he whispered against her ear, his breath scorching, his voice rough.

Xiang Bao wanted to cry—was this what they called bringing trouble upon oneself?

The next morning, when Zi Ruo entered, she found Xiang Bao lying alone on the couch, staring blankly at the ceiling.

“Zi Ruo…” Xiang Bao suddenly turned, her face lost.

“I’m here,” Zi Ruo answered promptly.

“I feel so miserable,” she said, mouth opening in distress.

Seeing her expression, Zi Ruo felt pity, unsure how to respond. Fortunately, Xiang Bao said nothing more, lying quietly.

For two months straight, Fu Chai never came again.