After Being Marked by the Eldest Princess, I Got Pregnant with Her Child [Transmigration into a Novel] - Chapter 20.1

“Almost done. Just one final step, and it will be complete.”

Yan  Yue gazed at the protective talisman she had embroidered over the past few days, finally nearing completion.

“May this talisman guard her with peace and happiness.”

Sitting alone at her desk, clad in a pristine white gown that shimmered like untouched snow, she had removed her golden hairpins and jade ornaments, her slender frame appearing even more delicate amidst the scattered scrolls.

She had grown increasingly fond of solitude.

Through the translucent mica panels of the eight-fold screen, her fragile silhouette was faintly visible. Yan Yue gently placed the talisman on the table and picked up a memorial.

Moonlight spilled through the window, casting a silvery glow across the room. The evening breeze carried a slight chill, and Yan Yue glanced at the open window before setting the document aside and rising to her feet. As she approached the screen, she paused.

Outside, the towering trees cast uneven, wavering shadows against the palace walls.

She watched for a moment, her expression as calm as still water. Countless similar nights had passed within these high walls, though she had never paid them much attention before. Now, as she observed them closely, a wave of melancholy surged from deep within her.

“Hah—”

“Shhk—”

After a sharp intake of breath, without warning, she moved like lightning. A glint of steel flashed as Yan Yue slashed viciously at the screen.

“Tch.”

Her wrist was caught in an iron grip, the makeshift dagger crafted from a specially modified brush with a concealed blade halted mere inches from the intruder’s throat.

Yan Yue strained to pull free, but her efforts were futile. Xie Mingyou, clad in an embroidered golden robe, effortlessly restrained her. “Impressive. You knew I was coming.”

Yan Yue’s calm demeanor masked careful planning. She had quietly taken the crimson-tipped brush from the table, a unique weapon disguised as a writing tool.

Recognizing her assailant, Yan Yue stiffened. She had sensed someone’s presence the moment she sat down, her heightened awareness alerting her to another presence in the room.

Deliberately, she had walked to the window, pretending to gaze outside, all to lull the intruder into lowering their guard and create an opening for a decisive strike.

Xie Mingyou held her as effortlessly as if she were handling a piece of cotton candy. Yan Yue’s slender wrist, even at full strength, posed no threat. With a twist, Xie Mingyou disarmed her, then pinned her against her chest, one hand gripping her throat.

Yan Yue stumbled into a fragrant embrace. Xie Mingyou carried a faint, intoxicating scent, one Yan Yue had never encountered before, yet it sent her heart racing.

Leaning close, Xie Mingyou exhaled warm breath against her ear. “Don’t move.”

Trapped, Yan Yue whispered defiantly, “What do you want?”

This woman had sought her out repeatedly, yet Yan Yue could recall no past between them.

Lately, sleepless nights plagued her. Every time she recalled the incident in the Peony Bathhouse, she felt as though the air had been sucked from her lungs.

“Just here to see you.”

Xie Mingyou studied her from above. Yan Yue’s delicate earlobes glowed softly in the lamplight, the turquoise-and-gold earrings complementing her flawless complexion.

A flicker of emotion passed through Xie Mingyou’s dark green eyes. Suddenly, hurried footsteps echoed outside, followed by urgent knocking. “Your Majesty… Is everything all right?”

Hua Ling stood at the door with guards in tow, having heard movement inside the chamber.

“Don’t let her in.”

Xie Mingyou’s other arm encircled her waist, drawing her into the folds of her robe. The husky, deep voice enveloped them, and Yan Yue suddenly detected a faint, almost pleading tone within it. Her heart stirred inexplicably, and she altered her words before speaking: “Nothing’s happened. Do not enter. Leave now.”

Hua Ling hesitated briefly outside the door but ultimately obeyed and withdrew.

“She’s gone. Will you release me now?”

Being held like this made Yan Yue’s heartbeat quicken. An unfamiliar sensation she’d never experienced before washed over her, an ominous prelude to unease.

“So obedient.”

Xie Mingyou chuckled lowly. Perhaps because they were alone in the room, with candles burning silently on the high stand and incense curling lazily from the burner, Yan Yue’s thick, dark hair brushed against her neck, its coolness miraculously plucking at her heartstrings. How long had it been since she last saw her?

Time flew like a shuttle. Back then, she had never imagined she could return.

“Ten years.”

Yan Yue frowned. What did that mean?

Xie Mingyou turned her around and seated her on the edge of a desk, sending a stack of books tumbling to the floor with a sweep of her robe.

Xie Mingyou gazed at the rouged lips still adorned with makeup, crimson lipstick, vivid and full, temptingly lush. The longing she had suppressed for so long transformed into impulse in this moment. She bent down and captured those fragrant lips. Yan Yue’s heart raced violently. Never in her life had anyone dared to be so audacious in her presence, not even Yan Chen would cross such boundaries with her.

As her hands pushed against Xie Mingyou, they were gently pinned down. Seated on the desk with her legs restrained, the kiss deepened with intent, leaving Yan Yue dizzy. Frantic, she gasped, “I’ll call for help.”

Xie Mingyou paused, then replied indifferently, “Go ahead. Let them see how the ever-dignified Empress indulges in another’s embrace.”

With that, Xie Mingyou pushed her down. Above Yan Yue stretched an exquisitely painted dome ceiling. Xie Mingyou pressed between her legs, smiling meaningfully. Tears suddenly welled up in Yan Yue’s eyes.

Xie Mingyou’s hands, which had been loosening Yan Yue’s sash, stilled. She narrowed her eyes, studying her with scrutiny. After years apart, she had grown even more affected, even more adept at pretense.

Her gaze slid to the charm pouch teetering precariously at the corner of the desk. Xie Mingyou reached for it, her expression instantly shifting. “Oh? Whose little keepsake is this?”

Yan Yue’s tears in front of her was it because she had kissed her, upsetting her? Was it for this person?

A sewing kit lay nearby, likely something Yan Yue had worked on in her spare time after court.

Yan Yue had embroidered a charm pouch for someone else.

Xie Mingyou found her earlier pity for Yan Yue laughably unnecessary.

She had even thought Yan Yue fragile, touching her with restraint and care, unwilling to hurt her only to find her embroidering a protective charm for someone else. The crooked, clumsily stitched red thread betrayed her inexperience. Xie Mingyou’s voice dripped with mockery. “Haven’t even mastered it, yet you rush to gift it to your little lover. Yan Yue, you’ve certainly grown bold.”

Yan Yue’s face burned crimson. Why did Xie Mingyou speak so flippantly? Turning her face away awkwardly, she muttered, “Give it back.”

It was a pouch she had made for Yan Chen, planning to deliver it in a few days when she had time.

A cold glint flashed in Xie Mingyou’s jade-green eyes as she raised her hand, evading Yan Yue’s reach. “If you want it, fetch it yourself.”

With that, she flicked her wrist and hurled the pouch through a gap in the window, sending it flying out with unerring precision.

Seeing this, Yan Yue angrily pushed her away. Xie Mingyou took a step back from the shove, her eyes icy cold.

Yan Yue rushed to the window, but where could the protective charm be seen now?

It had long since fallen into some deep thicket, lost to sight.

The night was heavy, and a night’s worth of dew would soak it through. By the next day, even if someone searched for it, it would likely be soiled. Yan Chen disliked unclean things it seemed this charm was as good as ruined.

“Get out.”

Yan Yue’s face was cold, her gaze indifferent.

Xie Mingyou pressed her lips together and smiled. “You want me to leave? Without me, what will Zhao Kingdom use to contend against that person?”

Yan Yue stiffened as if struck. Zhao Kingdom was strong in appearance but weak at its core. The wars of earlier years had drained everything, leaving them unable to withstand another external conflict. If Li Kingdom invaded, it would surely plunge Zhao into dire straits.

Recently, spies from Li Kingdom had already infiltrated the city, poisoning and harming civilians. Who knew what other methods they might employ? Just thinking about it made Yan Yue feel as though countless ants were gnawing at her skin.

Xie Mingyou arched a brow, watching her sudden drop in spirit, then turned to leave.

“W-wait—don’t go.”

Yan Yue chased after her, gripping her arm with trembling hands, pleading. Xie Mingyou glanced at her sidelong, her voice cool and detached.

“Come find me yourself tomorrow.”

With a push, Yan Yue staggered back a few steps.

A gust of wind swept by the bed, the woman was already gone without a trace.

Yan Yue stared blankly at the empty space before her, as if everything that had just happened was nothing but a dream.

What exactly was her relationship with Xie Mingyou?

“Huā Líng.”

She quickly composed herself and called out toward the door.

Princess’s Residence.

Song Shu Jiu sat on the bed like a pampered Buddha. Only after discovering she was pregnant did she realize this was an ancient ABO setting, divided into Qian and Kun genders, and she was a Kun, capable of bearing children.

The day she transmigrated, her body had been unbearably feverish. It must have been the original host’s first heat cycle, her pheromones wreaking havoc. No wonder she had felt so wretched after just a few sips of wine that day.

How tragic, she was the one being taken! This simply wouldn’t do!

Song Shu Jiu looked down at her belly and suddenly grinned. She was pregnant now, a protected period. But since they were both women, she didn’t necessarily have to stay in one position forever. The dream where she had Yan Chen pinned beneath her, turning her this way and that, had left a deep impression.

Song Shu Jiu felt she still had a chance.

“What are you thinking about?”

Her grin stretched ear to ear.

Yan Chen’s voice cut in abruptly, sending a chill down Song Shu Jiu’s spine. She glanced up guiltily but couldn’t hide the gleeful spark in her eyes. As if! If she could ever pin Yan Chen down and have her way, her ancestors would praise her for being so capable. “Nothing, nothing, pfft, hah!”

Yan Chen frowned. What was wrong with Song Shu Jiu?

What could possibly be so amusing?

“If you won’t say, then you’re not going anywhere. Stay inside and rest properly.”

Song Shu Jiu immediately stifled her laughter. Yan Chen, worried about accidents, had already restricted her movements again and again. She was about to go mad from boredom.

A pregnant woman’s mood was crucial, if she was unhappy, the baby might inherit her temper.

“Staying cooped up at home every day is putting immense pressure on me.”

Song Shu Jiu wilted, her expression flawlessly pitiful.

Yan Chen had believed her the first few times, but by now, she knew this girl’s temperament all too well. Joy, anger, sorrow, delight, if Song Shu Jiu wanted to, she could act better and more convincingly than any opera performer.

“Is that so?”

Yan Chen eyed her skeptically.

“Why don’t you ask me how to relieve this stress?”

Yan Chen didn’t seem concerned about her.

Song Shujiu looked pitiful, her almond eyes brimming with tears like an abandoned kitten.

Yan Chen finally said, “Then tell me.”

“Of course, it’s about going out for walks. Pregnant women should never stay cooped up at home it leads to depression.”

In severe cases, the baby could even get tangled in the umbilical cord, which was extremely dangerous. In the ancient society described in books, there were no advanced birthing techniques. She had read history books many women in ancient times died during childbirth, both mother and child.

Good heavens—

Song Shujiu seemed to have stumbled upon some earth-shattering realization, genuine worry flashing in her eyes. “Seriously, if the baby is positioned head-up, you’ll probably end up attending my funeral.”

A moment later.

Song Shujiu was dangling from an old tree, a long rope tied to a wooden plank. She sat on it while Yan Chen gently pushed, sending her swaying back and forth so blissful she could almost fly.

This was the first time Yan Chen had heard that a baby’s position in the womb mattered. Though Song Shujiu’s words had initially sounded like nonsense, completely different from what she understood, upon reflection, they did make some sense.

“Are you still depressed now?”

Yan Chen watched as she sat barefoot on the plank, legs stretched out, looking utterly content with each push.

Song Shujiu sighed. “It’s finally a little better. Yan Chen, if you hadn’t taken me out, I really wouldn’t have recovered so quickly.”

Being confined was maddening.

It was nice that Yan Chen could listen to her modern terms and even use them herself.

She decided she’d teach her more about the modern world later. If they ever got out, she’d find a way to take her along and show her everything.

That would be perfect.

Yan Chen rolled her eyes. This girl had a silver tongue softening up now, acting sweet, and giving all the credit to her.

Yan Chen watched as Song Shujiu’s hair shimmered silver-gray under the moonlight. Pregnant women ran hot, and despite the cool night, Song Shujiu still felt feverish, stubbornly wearing only a thin gauze robe. The jade-green fabric fluttered like water before her eyes.

The scent of wisteria drifting from her brought a strange sense of peace and warmth.

Yan Chen peeled an apple for her. Beside the swing was a low round table with a plate of fruit. Pregnant women needed to eat more fruit—according to Song Shujiu, it made the baby’s skin smoother.

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