I knew I had drifted far from all things happy and sad. I lay quietly in the darkness, suspended in a state between slumber and wakefulness. I thought of nothing; I did nothing. The boundless dark felt safe and warm, as if an invisible, impenetrable shell had formed around me, isolating me from every unpleasant memory.
A faint sound drifted from afar, too muffled to be certain. It sounded like an infant’s cry. I strained to listen, but the sound vanished. Was it my baby?
Instinctively, I began to move toward the source of that cry. Gradually, the sounds grew clearer. I heard a soft female voice cooing at a child, gently coaxing him. "...He’s smiling again... give us another smile... It’s a pity your mother can’t see this... She’s so heartless, leaving you behind like this..."
"I didn't leave him!" Her words sparked a flash of anger in me. I lunged toward the voice with all my might. There was a sudden roar in my ears, as if hands that had been muffling them were abruptly pulled away. I heard the distant whistle of the wind, the crackle of wood in the hearth, hushed conversations, and the weak whimpers of a tiny babe. Then, I realized my own voice was murmuring between my lips: "...I didn't... I didn't..."
A warm drop fell onto my cheek. Who was crying?
My eyelids felt as though they were glued shut; no matter how I struggled, I couldn't pry them open. In the haze, a soft little hand patted my face. That tender touch sent a ripple of warmth through my heart.
When I finally opened my eyes, the first thing I saw was a tiny, pink mouth stretched wide in a grin. The second thing I saw was a glistening trail of saliva, trickling from the corner of his mouth toward his chin, where it gathered into a shimmering, wobbling droplet.
I closed my eyes again, my groggy mind still processing the sight, but my cheek clearly felt the warmth of that fallen drop.
So, that was it.
I smiled soundlessly.
"Caiyun, don't hold the child like that," Feng Xiuxiu’s voice whispered in a sharp rebuke close by. "He’s too small. You’ll make him uncomfortable."
"But the Mistress really did open her eyes just now," Caiyun argued stubbornly. "The moment the young master touched her face, she opened them."
A warm hand, smelling of medicinal herbs, lightly brushed my forehead. The familiar scent brought a sense of peace. I opened my eyes and gave her a weak smile.
Feng Xiuxiu froze for a moment, then leaned in closer. Her fingers urgently pressed against my pulse. Finally, she let out a long, shuddering breath. "Thank heaven! You’re finally awake."
Seeing the bloodshot streaks in her eyes, a sudden pang of guilt struck me.
"You slept through your entire month of confinement," she said, patting my cheek with a look of lingering fear. "We were all afraid you wouldn't wake up." As she spoke, she took the child from Caiyun and carefully tucked him beside me, propping a blanket behind my back.
My son lay in his soft swaddling clothes, contentedly blowing spit bubbles. Compared to the day he was born, he looked much fairer and plumper. His features were more defined now; the corners of his eyes and brows tilted upward slightly, just like Ming Shao’s, but his eyes were large and round, like mine.
I touched his tiny hand, and his fingers immediately clamped tightly around mine. At the same time, a pair of dark, obsidian eyes turned toward me. Whether it was because he recognized me or by mere coincidence, he opened his small mouth and gave me a radiant smile.
My heart wrenched with a sudden, sharp pain, and tears blurred my vision.
To have two children at once was a luxury I had never dared to dream of. But to lose one of them before my very eyes was a pain that pierced me to the core. I had thought my heart was numbed by suffering, yet the agony of losing a child sliced through that numb shell like a jagged blade, stabbing deep into the last remnants of softness within me.
My other son... he hadn't even had the chance to look at me.
Feng Xiuxiu handed me a warm cloth and said softly, "He... has already been buried. Senior Uncle Qiu arranged it. The headstone hasn't been engraved yet; we were waiting for you to choose a name."
I named my younger son Mengchi—Dream Gallop. Born the day after the first snow, he had vanished with the wind before I could even truly see him, like a dream that comes and goes in haste.
His small grave was built on a sun-drenched slope just above the Lishan Training Camp. From there, one could see the first light of every dawn. On clear days, one could even see the distant, hazy silhouette of Qizhou and the vast lands worth fighting for. If claiming the six northern prefectures was my other dream, then let Mengchi watch over me and stay with me until I see it through.
My gaze swept over the words "Beloved Son, Xia Mengchi," but the image that rose in my mind was the plump face of his older brother, Jingchi. At that moment, little Jingchi was wrapped in a thick, soft fur cloak, fast asleep in my arms. Even in sleep, he looked remarkably like Ming Shao.
They were twins; they were meant to look alike. This often gave me a haunting illusion when I thought of Mengchi—as if he were growing up in some mysterious place, step for step with little Jingchi.
The names of the parents carved on the tombstone were Shao Ming and Xia Wuxin. I could not let my son’s grave lack his father’s name, yet I could not truly carve the name Qing Ming Shao. If people saw his name carved alongside Xia Wuxin of Dongyao City, it would surely bring him immense trouble.
Master Rong Qin took Jingchi from my arms and carefully handed him to the wet nurse, instructing them to return to the carriage to stay warm.
She showed no surprise at the name "Shao Ming" on the headstone, nor did she ever ask me anything. Perhaps, from the moment she saw Jingchi’s face, she had already guessed everything.
"Let’s go back," Master Rong Qin said, tightening my black fur cloak around me with a worried expression. "Don't catch a chill. Your body can't take any more strain."
We were all leaving, but my child was staying here, all alone...
"It was... all my fault." The words that had been circling my heart for so long finally found their way out, though I didn't even know who I was saying them to.
Feng Xiuxiu took my hand and comforted me softly, "Don't blame yourself anymore. He... he wasn't fully developed. This isn't uncommon with twins. Even if he had survived the birth, he likely wouldn't have made it through the winter..."
If only they had a safe environment to grow in... if only I could have eaten my fill every day and provided them with enough nutrition... if only I hadn't gone through those flights and killings... if only I...
If only what?
I shook my head. "It’s my fault."
It was all my fault.
"Let’s head back," Master Rong Qin said, putting an arm around my shoulder. "Don't you have other things to attend to? Jie Ziqian is already waiting for you at Maple Court."
***
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