After Scheming Against the Enemy Nation’s Emperor, I Got Pregnant Chapter 111

Xiao Yun returned to the military camp and immediately shut himself inside his tent, refusing to come out.

In the blink of an eye, a crowd of court officials had gathered outside. Zhang Kui whispered, “Could it be that Jiang Huaiyi is refusing no matter what?”

Liu Yun said anxiously, “Caiqing hasn’t returned yet.”

Meng Heng added, “Could he have been detained?!”

Zhang Kui said, “Then what do we do?!”

Just as the tension peaked, the commander lifted the tent flap and invited them all in.

The group rushed inside at once.

Inside the tent, the emperor was standing before a map, holding a wolf-hair brush and marking on it with full concentration. He didn’t even notice they had come in.

The officials exchanged glances. Zhang Kui asked, “Is His Majesty planning a war?”

The map depicted the territories of various states, including key passes, rivers, and even detailed streets — all meticulously rendered.

Great Ning had an intelligence network rivaling that of Miluo, giving the emperor intimate knowledge of military secrets across nations. That’s how such a precise and accurate map could be made.

Still marking and pointing at the map, the emperor said without turning around, “All of you, come here and take a look. Which area do you think has the most potential?”

Liu Yun, unable to bear it anymore, snapped, “Your Majesty! Where is the empress?!”

“Oh, in the imperial palace.”

Liu Yun looked utterly baffled. “Then why did you come back?!”

“Don’t bother me. This is of great importance. Quickly, quickly—come look! This one, this one, and this one. Which place is best?”

Dazed, the officials crowded around and looked at the three locations Xiao Yun had circled in red ink on the map.

Liu Yun assumed he was following a precedent from a former dynasty — establishing a secondary capital in the south, aside from the capital, to stimulate development in the region. He forced himself to stop worrying about the empress and thought for a moment, then pointed at one area. “Zhuzhou is naturally better. It sits at a major thoroughfare, flanked by water on two sides, it’s a rice-producing region, and commerce is thriving…”

Xiao Yun said, “But there’s a river here. I get seasick.”

“…” Meng Heng considered it and pointed to another circle. “Then Minzhou could also work. It’s a bit less commercially developed, but it’s rich in salt, minerals, and metals.”

Xiao Yun replied, “But it’s no fun there.”

The officials all looked at the last remaining option on the map — Junzhou — and the corners of their mouths twitched. Xie Zhe, always one to sense the emperor’s intentions, smiled and said, “Junzhou is the obvious choice!”

Xiao Yun frowned. “But it’s kind of barren and poor.”

And he wasn’t wrong — Junzhou was the poorest prefecture in all of Great Ning, and its people were widely looked down upon.

Liu Yun, still thinking about the empress, had no patience for this discussion. Seeing that the emperor couldn’t distinguish between urgent and trivial matters, he was both anxious and angry. He gave a hasty, perfunctory response: “Junzhou borders water on one side, Nanruo on another, and the heartland of Great Ning on the third. Though currently impoverished and underdeveloped, it holds great potential. With time, it’s sure to surpass the other regions!”

He spoke so fast it was clear he just wanted to get it over with and ask about Xie Caiqing.

Xiao Yun’s smile could no longer be hidden. “Really?”

The ever-hurried Zhang Kui instantly chimed in, “Yes! And the people of Junzhou are simple, kind, and hardworking…”

Xiao Yun turned to look at the others.

Meng Heng added, “Only the central area of Junzhou is poor. The areas near Nanruo and Great Ning’s core are quite prosperous. The wealthy parts can uplift the poor. With enough investment, Junzhou could absolutely become one of Great Ning’s wealthiest regions.”

Xiao Yun scanned everyone. “So you all think Junzhou is the best choice?”

The officials, all preoccupied with the empress, nodded perfunctorily. Seeing that the matter seemed to be wrapping up, they were just about to ask about Lord Xie — when Xiao Yun threw down his brush, waved his hand grandly, and slapped the map with heroic flair: “Then it’s decided! For the development of southern Great Ning, we will move the capital to Junzhou!”

The officials were utterly stunned.

…

Very quickly, the court officials realized they had been tricked by the emperor again.

But since they’d agreed so readily, they now had no choice but to go along with it — even if they had to do it through gritted teeth and tears.

After all, when it came to shamelessness, no one could beat the emperor. Based on past experience, no one could win a tug-of-war with him — he always came out the victor.

So they figured it was better to save their strength.

After a few more days of debate, the more they discussed it, the more it started to seem that — although it had sounded absurd at first — this move actually made long-term sense.

Great Ning’s current capital was too far north. Winters were brutally cold, which hampered both the economy and the livelihood of the people. During the harshest months, the rivers even froze, making river transport difficult. Moreover, over half of Great Ning’s population was concentrated in the central and southern regions. The north was rich, the south poor — creating massive regional disparities.

Moving the capital could indeed help turn that around.

A group of court officials who had long been accustomed to living in the north quickly resigned themselves to fate. For the eternal prosperity of Great Ning, they gritted their teeth and worked hard with loud huffs and puffs.

…

With all resistance cleared, moving the capital was just a matter of time. As for getting married, in Xiao Yun’s view, it was only natural.

He had been working from dawn to dusk for the past few days, so much that the dark circles under his eyes looked like he had been overindulgent. The only thing keeping him going was the belief that “once everything’s done, I can marry Chuchu.” But today, sitting across from Jiang Huaichu and watching him spoon mouthfuls of porridge, he suddenly blurted out, “Not getting married?!”

His voice was so loud that Jiang Huaichu’s hand trembled, nearly dropping the porcelain spoon. “What’s wrong?”

“N-no… why not get married?” Xiao Yun immediately pressed.

Jiang Huaichu looked slightly confused. “Why get married? We’re both men, already living together. Imperial Brother and Taifei have acknowledged me, even your ancestors approve, and we already have a child…”

“But… but we still have to get married,” Xiao Yun was now visibly agitated. “A proper wedding, with formal rites—it can’t be skipped!”

Jiang Huaichu looked at him in confusion. “We already have everything—why the ceremony?”

He frowned slightly. “You want the whole world to know about us? Given our identities?”

“…” Xiao Yun gave him a side glance. Seeing no response, he kept sneaking glances every couple of seconds. 

Jiang Huaichu, not understanding at first, finally looked up at him stiffly and said, “…No. Xiao Yun, you can’t.”

Xiao Yun gave a sheepish smile. “…Chuchu, I actually can.”

Jiang Huaichu: “…Xiao Yun, I can’t.”

Xiao Yun: “…Chuchu, you can.”

Jiang Huaichu: “…Xiao Yun.”

Xiao Yun: “…Chuchu.”

The two sat silently across the table from each other for quite a while.

Jiang Huaichu had a deep psychological shadow about the idea of making things “known to the world.” The moment he associated Xiao Yun with the concept of “spectacle,” he was instantly reminded of the time he won the top scholar title and Xiao Yun paraded him around town with drums and gongs, during which he nearly got hit by flying fruit.

Eventually, Jiang Huaichu broke the silence. “Why… do you need the whole world to know?”

Xiao Yun replied, “Isn’t it nice to have a lively celebration?”

Jiang Huaichu still looked skeptical. “Are you sure it’s just ‘a bit lively’?”

Xiao Yun coughed and nodded without blinking. “Chuchu, truthfully, I just want us to have an official status.”

Jiang Huaichu blinked. “You care about that?”

Xiao Yun nodded. “Only when everything’s out in the open and publicly recognized do I feel a real sense of security.”

The person in front of him, who normally sat with grand, relaxed gestures, now sat upright, staring at him without blinking. It was as if just one nod from Jiang Huaichu would light up his whole face. Jiang Huaichu suddenly felt his heart soften. He hesitated, but didn’t say anything.

“I’ve said my piece,” Xiao Yun said solemnly. “Chuchu, what about you? Why don’t you want a celebration?”

Jiang Huaichu stayed quiet for a while, avoiding the intense gaze. “No real reason. I just don’t like crowds. Just thinking about it makes my ears hurt.”

Xiao Yun thought this was a bit of a problem. Just as he was considering how to resolve it, he noticed something was off. He stared at Jiang Huaichu.

“Chuchu, do you really not want to have a formal wedding with me?”

Jiang Huaichu was slightly stunned and said nothing.

“A proper ceremony, where we bow to each other as husband and husband.”

Jiang Huaichu turned his face away.

The more Xiao Yun looked, the more suspicious he became. He narrowed his eyes.

His gaze dropped lower—and suddenly, everything clicked into place. He knew now wasn’t the time to laugh, but he had to hold it in with great effort. “You don’t want people saying you gave birth three or four months after the wedding, huh?”

At a wedding, guests would fill the hall, and someone was bound to notice. It wouldn’t be possible to hide it.

Jiang Huaichu glared at him.

Bullseye.

Xiao Yun stopped laughing. He stood up, walked over, bent slightly, and slipped an arm under Jiang Huaichu’s to scoop him up.

The palace attendants widened their eyes, then quickly bowed their heads, their faces flushed.

Jiang Huaichu glanced at the people nearby, his face slightly red. “What are you doing? Put me down…”

He struggled slightly, the hem of his white robe swaying. Xiao Yun couldn’t care less about how others saw it. He impatiently waved everyone out, then carried Jiang Huaichu to his lap, pulling him into his arms. He grabbed a damp, white handkerchief and gently took Jiang Huaichu’s hand, wiping each finger carefully.

“Don’t move. I’m wiping my little turtle rabbit’s hands,” he said.

The words sounded oddly familiar. Jiang Huaichu paused, then remembered—that’s what Xiao Yun had said to him the day he climbed the city wall.

“How am I a little turtle rabbit?” Jiang Huaichu asked.

“Chuchu, the rice has already been cooked…” Xiao Yun glanced down at the six-month belly that barely fit in his arms, coughed, and added, “…overcooked, actually. It’s a bit awkward.”

“Hm, and?” Jiang Huaichu asked with a blank face, though his ears were faintly red.

Xiao Yun said solemnly, “But what should be done, must be done. What should be made up for, must be made up for. After all, the past cannot be changed, and we can’t let an unchangeable accident from the past wrong the present or the future, right?”

Jiang Huaichu lowered his head and said in a low voice, “I don’t feel wronged.”

Behind him, Xiao Yun grimaced and, after pausing for a few seconds, held him even tighter. He touched his slightly bulging belly and said, “Chuchu, think about it. The baby is growing so fast. People are going to find out sooner or later. Once he’s born, such a big child—you can’t hide him. It’s just a matter of time. Instead of letting people speculate and spread rumors with embellishments, why don’t we make it public now? Be open and honest, and not give them the chance to smear us. Once they hear he’s my child, that we’re together, who would dare say a single bad word?”

Jiang Huaichu was silent for a long time before finally replying softly and casually, “Mm.”

What Xiao Yun said made sense. It’s just that…

Jiang Huaichu’s thoughts were soon interrupted—he realized Xiao Yun’s hand was still moving around his belly. Flushed with embarrassment and anger, he gave him a smack.

Xiao Yun cleared his throat again, but made no move to let go. He even put on a falsely serious expression and shared his “years of experience”: “Let me tell you, in situations like this, if you don’t feel embarrassed, then it’s the others who will. Even if we are a little embarrassed, we have to act like we’re not. That way, they’ll seem like the ones making a fuss and lacking in worldly experience.”

“…” Jiang Huaichu was once again both amused and exasperated by his twisted logic. After a while, he curved his eyes and smiled. “So that’s what you always think before making a fool of yourself?”

“…” Xiao Yun cursed internally and quickly said, “How is that making a fool of myself?! If I didn’t do those things, would you be sitting on my lap right now—hey! Don’t get down! Don’t slap my thigh! It’ll—!”

Jiang Huaichu froze mid-slap, his raised hand awkwardly hovering before he put it down, biting his lip. “You think I don’t know what you’re scheming?”

“I am scheming a little!” Xiao Yun admitted immediately. “But Chuchu, even if you don’t do it for yourself or for me, shouldn’t you at least do it for the child?”

“For the child?”

Jiang Huaichu’s attention was instantly caught. He turned his head to look back at Xiao Yun.

“Yeah,” Xiao Yun replied, utterly composed. “Chuchu, do you like children?”

Jiang Huaichu didn’t answer.

Xiao Yun changed his approach: “So, is Chuchu only planning to have one child in this lifetime?”

Jiang Huaichu was silent for a moment, then shook his head.

Xiao Yun’s heart sank under the weight of sudden pressure. After two seconds of silence, he asked with forced calm, “…How many?”

The question was thick with awkwardness. Jiang Huaichu avoided Xiao Yun’s gaze. “Xiao Yun…”

Xiao Yun grew even more anxious, keeping his expression steady. “…How many?”

He suddenly realized—they’d committed to each other, planned a life together—but had never actually discussed certain major topics.

Jiang Huaichu said hesitantly, “…Three or four?”

Xiao Yun’s heart skipped a beat.

Three or four?! He actually wanted three or four?!

Even if one could be conceived every two months, carried for ten months, with a few more months of recovery—let’s say two kids every three years… three or four would take five to six years!

That’s five to six years of pregnancy. He was already twenty-five—he’d be over thirty by then!

The best years of their lives, all spent on childbirth?

And after thirty, they’d still be raising three or four kids?

Xiao Yun was struck by the nightmare scenario in his mind.

Seeing that he hadn’t spoken for a while, Jiang Huaichu’s expression dimmed. “Is it too few?”

Xiao Yun was the emperor, with only him by his side. Compared to the emperors of past dynasties, three or four children would indeed be pitifully few.

“…” Xiao Yun’s hands froze in panic. He immediately said, “It’s not few!”

He didn’t dare say it was too many, fearing he’d ruin Jiang Huaichu’s mood. So he asked carefully, “…Why do you want three or four?”

Jiang Huaichu pursed his lips and lowered his head. After a while, he said slowly, “When I was young, I was often by Royal Brother’s side. He had to learn state affairs, work late into the night, study, and even teach me to read and write. Back then, there wasn’t a single person to help him, to share the burden.”

Xiao Yun understood.

There were only two blood relatives in that generation of Nanruo royalty.

Chuchu must have been very lonely. Two people running a whole country must’ve been exhausting.

Xiao Yun thought of the past grudges among his own siblings and asked, “Chuchu, aren’t you afraid that having many brothers might lead to infighting?”

Jiang Huaichu shook his head. “I believe that children raised in a balanced, loving environment, with proper guidance and enough resources, will have deep familial bonds—just like me and my Royal Brother.”

Xiao Yun was momentarily dazed.

He had seized the throne by stepping over the bodies of his siblings. Until now, he could never understand the deep, brotherly affection between Duan Wang of Nanruo and the emperor.

Suddenly, he understood why, deep down, he didn’t want children—or only wanted one.

Perhaps… perhaps the deepest reason was that, as an emperor, he feared his own children might end up turning on one another, like he once did.

That one offhand remark from Jiang Huaichu had unexpectedly untied a long-held knot in his heart.

Sibling strife, Xiao Yun realized, stemmed from poor parenting—not from fate.

But clarity didn’t help—three or four?! And each of them well-raised? That meant Chuchu would have even less time for him!

A strong sense of crisis rose in Xiao Yun’s chest. He finally remembered why they were having this conversation in the first place, and said in a coaxing tone, “Then… since we’re not just having one, and your belly’s going to get even bigger, people will definitely notice. We should face it now, get it over with. That way, we won’t have to worry later, right? Then we can have as many as we want.”

Jiang Huaichu was silent for a few seconds, then softly replied “Mm” again. His ears were even redder, but a small smile curled at his lips, as if he were already imagining three or four adorable little ones crowding around his knees.

Xiao Yun looked at the warm, gentle smile at the corners of his lips, and his heart thudded once more in alarm, sirens wailing in his head—but he kept a straight face and said, “Then for the sake of those three or four children in the future, we must get married, right?”