The Crown Princess Is Jealous Again - Chapter 117

While Xiao Beitang felt a twinge of fear, she was also genuinely angry. She looked at Song Qingqian, determined not to yield. Telling her to find someone else! Song Qingqian truly had a knack for saying the most vexing things.

She set the trinket in her hand down on the desk with a heavy thud and said in a deep voice, “My mind is made up. The Empress need not say more. You may return.”

She rarely used the formal “Impress” in front of Song Qingqian; it was clear she was truly incensed.

Realizing her words had wounded her, Song Qingqian softened her tone. “I know. What I said last night upset you.”

Xiao Beitang took a long breath. “It has nothing to do with you. I intended to do this sooner or later anyway. I do not care for the ways of the retired Emperor. If I cannot give these women my heart, why keep them trapped within these deep palace walls? It was my fault for acting on a momentary lapse of judgment. I have given them enough silver; they can leave the palace and seek out their own true loves.”

“But.”

Xiao Beitang interrupted her. “There are no ‘buts.’ Why do you think you can spend your life with only me, while I cannot do the same? You say you cannot attend to me, so I should find others do you have any idea how much that hurts? I survived the past three years alone; why should I not be able to now?”

“I only didn’t want you to feel deprived,” Song Qingqian murmured, her eyelashes trembling as she lowered her eyes.

“So you would rather deprive yourself? If I were to favor someone else, your heart would feel as though it were being flayed, wouldn’t it? Even knowing that, you still want me to go?” Xiao Beitang’s voice was gentle, yet it carried the weight of an interrogation.

“As long as you hold me in your heart, you have not betrayed me,” Song Qingqian said, her voice laced with a hint of guilt.

“I have told you, my heart holds only you. Sometimes I feel as if I am the Kunze and you are the Qianyuan—as if I have been marked by you. This body and soul can only accommodate you.”

Xiao Beitang slowly stepped down from the dais and took her hand. “Qianqian, I am baring my heart to you; I am giving you my promise. I know you don’t truly want me to find someone else. You must be hurting inside. You are just afraid that you cannot attend to me, afraid that I will lose interest because you might not look your best during the pregnancy, right?”

“I waited for you for so many years; how could I be that kind of person? My only thought is how to make things less difficult for you. Sending them away was a plan I had for a long time. You need not feel guilty. And I will absolutely never change my mind.”

Xiao Beitang spoke every word with absolute sincerity.

“I have also consulted the imperial physician. He said that a Kunze’s mood is unstable during pregnancy; it’s easy to feel anxious, overthink, and struggle with sleep and appetite. Qianqian, I will be by your side always. I have already changed the court schedule to once every seven days. I’ve left the state affairs to the Prime Minister and the others to manage; I will focus solely on accompanying you. If you grow unhappy in the capital, I will take you to travel among the mountains and rivers, anything to make you happy.”

Song Qingqian remained silent. For a fleeting moment, she allowed herself to be selfish. To hell with being “virtuous” or following “social etiquette” she simply wanted to spend her life with Xiao Beitang and raise their child together.

As Song Qingqian stood there in a daze, Xiao Beitang pulled her into her arms. “Qianqian, I have also decided: once the child in your womb is born, the surname shall be Song.”

Song Qingqian’s heart skipped a beat. She looked up in shock. Xiao Beitang continued, “The direct line of the Song family is gone; the remaining Songs are all distant branches. Your father’s line has no successor, and he had only you, his daughter. Our child carries his bloodline as well.”

“No, that won’t do.” Song Qingqian refused in a panic. “If my father were alive, he would never permit it. Besides, the child in my womb is your flesh and blood, a direct scion of the Imperial House.”

Xiao Beitang spoke softly, gently pressing her palm. “Qianqian, don’t be nervous. Does having the surname Song make her any less my child? I will still cherish and love her. If Yi’er eventually decides she does not wish to inherit my throne, this child can always change her name back to Xiao. She can still be the Sovereign.”

Song Qingqian still wouldn’t allow it. “My father’s integrity will be remembered by future generations; he does not need someone to carry on his bloodline just for the sake of it.”

Xiao Beitang smiled. “Let us not speak of this for now. I will walk you back to Kunning Palace.”

With companions to play with, Xiao Yi spent her days like a bolting rabbit, frolicking in every corner of the palace. Song Qingqian only reminded her occasionally that after these two or three years of play, she would have to begin her formal education.

Xiao Beitang stayed by Song Qingqian’s side every day, finding new ways to amuse her and seeking out novelties to win her favor. She would often press her ear against Song Qingqian’s belly, her eyes sparkling as she looked up. “I heard her move! She moved, didn’t she?”

Song Qingqian smiled. “It takes about five months before there is any fetal movement.”

Xiao Beitang gave a silly grin. “Is that so? Did I hear wrong? Perhaps she’s just extraordinary.” Then she asked suddenly, “Once she starts moving, will it be uncomfortable for you?” She had given birth once; she must know.

“It won’t,” Song Qingqian replied, seeing right through her. If she said it would, Xiao Beitang would start worrying and likely spend several days grumbling at the unborn child out of spite.

“Lucky for her,” Xiao Beitang muttered. “You’d better be on your best behavior in there. You’ve already made it so I can’t be intimate with your Mama. It’s bad enough that I have to suffer, but if you dare make her suffer, just wait until you’re born, I’ll show you who’s boss.” She crouched between Song Qingqian’s legs, pointing sternly at her belly as she lectured it.

Song Qingqian glanced at her. It had been two months since they were last intimate. Xiao Beitang followed every word of the physician as if it were divine law.

Sometimes, Xiao Beitang would disappear for a while and return with some very clumsy, stammering excuses. Song Qingqian only had to ask Xing’er to find out the truth: the Emperor had been taking cold baths even in the dead of winter.

Song Qingqian had secretly researched books on how a Kunze should attend to her spouse during pregnancy, but every time, she closed the books in a fit of blushing embarrassment.

In truth, a Qianyuan’s rut usually only occurs once every few months. However, she later learned from the physician that Xiao Beitang had used too many “Inhibitor Pills” over the past few years, throwing her cycles into total disarray.

Xiao Beitang was still a hot-blooded Qianyuan in her twenties, and they had been apart for so many years; before learning of the pregnancy, she had clung to Song Qingqian every single day.

One night, Xiao Beitang lay beside her, tossing and turning. Song Qingqian rested her leg over Xiao Beitang’s, her knee seemingly by accident brushing against her lower abdomen. As she suspected!

At the touch of the knee, Xiao Beitang trembled. She gently moved Song Qingqian’s leg aside, lifted the quilt, and prepared to slip out of bed.

“Your Majesty,” Song Qingqian called out softly.

“Qianqian, I woke you.” Xiao Beitang turned back with a forced smile.

“I wasn’t asleep yet.” Song Qingqian propped herself up on her arm.

Xiao Beitang returned and tenderly helped her lean back against her. “What’s wrong? Can’t sleep? Are you uncomfortable? I heard from the physician that pregnant Kunze often feel aches in their bodies. Let me massage your back for you.”

Her hands moved gently over Song Qingqian’s waist, kneading and rubbing. Breathing in the fragrance from her neck and shoulders, her movements grew rhythmic, sometimes hurried, sometimes slow.

Song Qingqian pushed her hands away and prepared to get off the bed. Xiao Beitang reached out to help, but Song Qingqian refused, standing up to face her. After a moment’s hesitation, she said, “Sit still.”

“What is it?” Xiao Beitang looked at her, confused.

Song Qingqian guided her legs apart and knelt before her. She leaned forward and slowly began to unfasten the ties of her waistbelt.

Xiao Beitang’s heart hammered as she watched her. Song Qingqian looked utterly alluring—or more accurately, lethal. It was the kind of soul-stealing beauty that could cost a person their life.

Xiao Beitang took several deep breaths, trying to calm her racing thoughts. Driven by a shred of remaining logic, she caught Song Qingqian’s wrist to stop her. Her breathing was ragged as she said, “Qianqian, the physician said we cannot yet.”

Song Qingqian flushed with embarrassment. She had summoned a great deal of courage to do this, yet she could clearly feel the heat in Xiao Beitang’s palms and hear her rapid breathing. Close up, she could even hear her heartbeat, as chaotic as a summer rainstorm.

“The physician said we cannot engage in intercourse, not that I cannot attend to you. You should, you should understand better than I do.” It took Song Qingqian a great deal of effort to force those words out.

Xiao Beitang froze for a second, then realized what she meant. A wave of guilt washed over her. “You are already suffering enough with the pregnancy, I won’t have it!”

Song Qingqian pushed her hand away and continued.

“Perhaps I really should move back to Yong’an Palace tomorrow?” Xiao Beitang said afterward, not daring to look at her.

Song Qingqian reached out her hand, and Xiao Beitang took it, sitting by her side. Song Qingqian leaned her head against the Emperor’s chest, her voice faint and weary. “I’m sleepy.”

Xiao Beitang nodded, tucked her back into the inner side of the bed, and gently coaxed her to sleep.