The Emperor half-kneels by the bedside, his head resting gently against Meng Wenyao's.
"I'm scared now," he admits, voice trembling. "I'd rather lose the child than see you suffer like this, Yao'er."
Wenyao slowly turns her head and softly strokes his hair through her tears. "I want to bear a child for Your Majesty, even if it costs me my life. I want you to have an heir to continue your legacy."
"Don't say such despairing things. You will be fine, Yao'er," the Emperor insists, his voice firm despite his fear.
From dawn till noon, Wenyao cries out in pain while whispering heartfelt words to the Emperor—her strength fading as hunger and exhaustion weigh her down. Though she's been given pain relief, fatigue slowly overcomes her, and she drifts toward sleep.
The midwives panic. They think she's losing strength and may be headed for a difficult delivery. Their faces pale as they urgently request the Imperial Doctor to prepare medicines, and plead with the Emperor to decide whether to save the mother or the child.
The Emperor is overwhelmed, trembling with terror unlike anything he's felt before. He longs for someone to hold him up.
"Has the Empress Dowager arrived yet?" he asks, desperate.
After a tense wait, a palace maid from Chang Le Palace reports, "The Empress Dowager is still at the temple, praying for the Empress's safe delivery."
She adds bitterly, "Her Majesty has instructed that if there's a complication, the Emperor must prioritize the state and save the child."
The Emperor's heart sinks as if scalded then plunged into ice.
"Get out," he roars with his last ounce of strength, staggering as if about to collapse.
But the sudden roar startles the barely conscious Wenyao awake. She asks groggily, "Your Majesty? What's wrong?"
Seeing her regain spirit, everyone exhales with relief and prays fervently for a safe birth.
The Emperor, too shaken to speak, gazes at her with endless tenderness and longing.
Wenyao barely has the energy to care—her contractions are coming faster now.
"Ah!"
"She's delivering! The Empress is delivering!"
"Your Majesty, the Empress has given birth!"
Half an hour later, Wenyao turns her head to look at the newborn beside her and then at the Emperor. A faint smile touches her lips. "He doesn't look like you… or me."
Consort Hua beams with delight. "Your Majesty, you don't understand. The little prince is too young. Once he grows, you'll see who he resembles. I think his nose is like the Empress's."
"I think his mouth resembles you," the Emperor adds softly, tenderly wiping sweat from Wenyao's forehead and planting a loving kiss there.
"But I wish he looked more like You, my Emperor. He's a boy—if he looks like me, he'll be too delicate."
The Emperor nods, smiling wistfully. "Perhaps as he grows, he'll take after me."
"I wonder what you looked like as a child… if he looks like you."
"I don't know," the Emperor answers quietly.
They share a sweet glance, but the Emperor feels a pang of loss. If only his mother were here, she could tell him what he was like as a boy. Sadly, the Empress Dowager is still napping and hasn't left Chang Le Palace.
After eating a little, Wenyao falls into a deep sleep. The Emperor sits beside her, exhausted, as if in a dream.
He has a son—a prince. His dynasty will have an heir. Watching the peaceful faces of Wenyao and their son, an overwhelming sense of fulfillment floods his heart.
"Where's my dear grandson?" the Empress Dowager booms as she stomps in, tapping the ground with her dragon-headed cane.
The Emperor's thoughts are interrupted. He brightens instantly. "Mother, the prince is asleep here."
The Empress Dowager smiles happily upon seeing the sleeping child and Wenyao. "He's just like you as a boy."
"Mother, let's speak outside so we don't disturb them," the Emperor says gently, leading her into the courtyard.
Everyone in Fu Ning Palace is filled with joy. The Empress Dowager says, "Now that you have an heir, I can leave this world in peace."
"Mother, you're still young. Don't say such gloomy things. The prince is still young, and we rely on you to look after the Empress," the Emperor reassures her.
She nods. "Meng Wenyao is a good woman. She deserves this blessing. When the prince's full month celebration comes, it must be grand—celebrated by all under heaven."
The Emperor beams, "I intend just that."
He has a son now, and he'll make sure the whole world knows—who dares to mock him now?
Seeing his happiness, the Empress Dowager adds, "Then release An Jun Wang too. Let him see his little brother. I'm old now, and you're the last of the family. One less face is one less reunion."
The Emperor's joy sinks immediately. But seeing the hopeful look in her eyes, he cannot refuse. "As you wish, Mother."
Meng Wenyao recovers quickly after taking restorative medicines. She spends her days eating and resting, regaining her strength.
Though still in confinement, the Emperor finds every chance to sneak in some playful affection.
"You've become even more radiant, Yao'er. I like you more than before the birth."
Wenyao rolls her eyes at his wandering gaze, protesting, "Your Majesty, I'm still in confinement. How can you be so reckless?"
"What reckless? I haven't touched you."
She glares at him with mock annoyance. "Then move your hands away."
Caught in the act, the Emperor playfully pinches her and promises, "When you're out of confinement, you'll have to make it up to me."
Their flirty exchange ends with a cry from the little prince.
The Emperor quickly takes the baby from the maid's arms, skillfully opens the swaddling, and seeing no need to change his diaper, returns him to her. "Probably hungry."
Wenyao covers her mouth, giggling silently. If anyone knew how stoic the Emperor appears publicly but how much of a doting dad he is behind closed doors, they'd be shocked.
While the new parents revel in joy, An Jun Wang finally leaves his mansion to pay respects to the Empress Dowager.
Though he's allowed out once the prince turns one month, the crowded palace banquet made him reluctant to attend. Only after several days did he leave his home.
After months of house arrest, he's no longer the naive prince he once was. He understands now the harsh reality of the imperial path.
Born merely a royal prince, fate seems to be signaling that since the Emperor had no heir, he might be the true destined successor.
Just as all hope seemed lost, the Consort revealed a shocking secret—a trump card for him to reclaim the crown prince title.
At Chang Le Palace, after a brief greeting with the Empress Dowager, he plans to probe into the matter of the young prince.