Chapter 52
Inside Yinghui Pavilion.
Ji Qingzhou sat facing Li Zhan, and for a moment, neither of them spoke. The room fell into complete silence.
This was the first time they met formally after the truth had been revealed.
Strictly speaking, that “confession” had been entirely one-sided—from Ji Qingzhou. He hadn’t even given Li Zhan a chance to respond.
Ji Qingzhou had already felt awkward to begin with, and now, under the weight of this long silence, his discomfort bubbled over. He racked his brain trying to find something to say, but had no idea where to start.
Li Zhan, too, was overwhelmed with emotions. He had so much he wanted to say, but not a single word came out.
He had been staring elsewhere the whole time, but when he noticed out of the corner of his eye that Ji Qingzhou hadn’t looked at him once, a thought stirred in him, and he turned to observe the youth in silence—so intently he seemed to want to imprint every inch of him into his mind.
Heaven knew how frantic he had been on the way to Yinghui Pavilion.
All the way there, he hadn’t dared to think what would happen if he arrived too late.
To distract himself from the anxiety, he had even mentally cycled through a hundred different ways the Ministry of Appointments officials and Prince Heng could die.
Thank goodness—he had made it in time.
“I…” Ji Qingzhou forced himself to speak.
Li Zhan looked at him, and since the other man still wouldn’t meet his eyes, he allowed the heat in his gaze to remain unabashed and intense.
“Has the imperial physician… already found out?” Ji Qingzhou kept his head slightly lowered, like an ostrich trying to bury its head under its wing.
“Yes,” Li Zhan replied.
Ji Qingzhou: …
You finally found something to talk about, and he gave you a one-word answer?
“Um…” Ji Qingzhou gathered his courage again and said, “About that night at Fengxian Pavilion…”
“Hm?” Li Zhan still gave just a single syllable, but this time his tone was slightly inquisitive, as if to say, “What about Fengxian Pavilion?”
Ji Qingzhou: …
He clearly knew what Ji Qingzhou wanted to say—why was he using that tone?
Did he expect Ji Qingzhou to spell it out again?
Li Zhan kept silent, and although Ji Qingzhou didn’t look up, he could still feel the scorching gaze locked on him. Maybe it was because Li Zhan’s presence was just too strong, but Ji Qingzhou, who had done nothing wrong, felt strangely guilty.
Since Li Zhan wouldn’t speak, he had to be the one to take the initiative.
This matter had to be addressed. Letting it drag on wasn’t going to help…
“That night was honestly a complete accident… I didn’t know you would be there, nor did I know why Young Lady Qiu happened to be there… Though I swapped shifts with Gao Liang during the day, I truly didn’t know who tampered with the incense…” Ji Qingzhou began explaining.
“Hm,” Li Zhan responded again, but didn’t interrupt.
“Later… um… you and I…” Ji Qingzhou’s face flushed red mid-sentence, and his embarrassment deepened.
Li Zhan was so stirred by the expression on his face that he wanted to keep teasing him, maybe let him finish recounting everything in full. But seeing Ji Qingzhou so flustered he couldn’t even breathe properly, he suddenly softened and said, “I know all of it.”
Ji Qingzhou breathed a huge sigh of relief and silently gave thanks to heaven.
If Li Zhan had let him keep going, he probably would have died of embarrassment.
“Did it hurt?” Li Zhan suddenly asked.
Ji Qingzhou was stunned. The moment he realized what Li Zhan meant, the redness on his face deepened, as though it might bleed. What was wrong with this man? Why bring up such an embarrassing question after so long???
“I-It was… okay, I guess,” Ji Qingzhou replied stiffly.
Internally, he collapsed. No way could he answer with, “You were awful. I couldn’t walk properly for days,” right!?
Li Zhan had an urge to follow up with, “I’ll be gentler next time,” but realized just in time how inappropriate that would be, and held it in.
He hadn’t meant it as a tease, but out of genuine concern and guilt. That night… he had been under the influence of the drug and had likely been very rough… There was no need to even ask—Ji Qingzhou must have suffered a great deal.
To think their only moment of intimacy had left Ji Qingzhou with such a painful memory filled Li Zhan with regret. But right now, there was nothing he could do to change that impression. He even worried that if he ever truly tried to court Ji Qingzhou, this experience might become a psychological shadow for him.
If that were the case… he would be in trouble!
Ji Qingzhou, now thoroughly embarrassed, instead felt a strange sense of calm. He had already lost face today, so he might as well stop fussing. Gritting his teeth, he took the initiative and said, “Wang Ye… please give me a clear answer.”
“What?” Li Zhan hadn’t expected the sudden shift in topic and didn’t react right away.
Still avoiding his gaze, Ji Qingzhou asked, “What will you do… about the child?”
The moment Li Zhan heard the word “deal with” come from Ji Qingzhou’s mouth, the amusement in his eyes visibly faded, and his brows drew together slightly.
He looked at the youth and asked, “I want to hear your thoughts.”
Ji Qingzhou quickly replied, “I don’t have any. I’ll go with whatever Wang Ye decides.”
He wasn’t being dishonest—he truly meant it.
And this answer was far beyond anything Li Zhan had expected…
Surprised, Li Zhan asked, “You mean that?”
“Of course,” Ji Qingzhou answered as if it were obvious.
Li Zhan had never imagined that the matter he had agonized over for so long would be resolved so easily. Ji Qingzhou hadn’t hesitated at all and was leaving the decision entirely to him! If he’d known it would be like this, he’d have come clean the night he found out, instead of torturing himself for days.
Just then, Xiao Shan knocked and entered, carrying a freshly brewed bowl of medicine.
Ji Qingzhou knew it was for his heatstroke and reached to take it.
But Li Zhan moved faster. He brought the bowl to his nose and gave it a sniff.
“Please rest assured, Wang Ye,” Xiao Shan said. “This was personally prescribed by Imperial Physician Zhang. I stayed by the pot the whole time it was brewing. The water, the pot, and the bowl were all checked. It’s perfectly safe.”
Only then did Li Zhan hand the medicine to Ji Qingzhou.
Ji Qingzhou was surprised by the gesture. Everyone in Yinghui Pavilion had been personally selected by Li Zhan—there was no one suspicious. There was no need to be so overly cautious. The fact that Li Zhan was still so careful with what entered his mouth—did that mean he wanted to keep the child?
That conclusion didn’t surprise Ji Qingzhou.
He had sensed that Li Zhan was quite fond of the young emperor. It made sense that he wouldn’t reject the idea of having a child of his own.
As for the problems that might arise afterward, Ji Qingzhou had no doubt Li Zhan could handle them.
Maybe in the past he would’ve worried, but in recent days he had witnessed firsthand how, in just two days, Li Zhan had uprooted Prince Heng and his faction almost entirely, suppressing them to the point where Prince Heng had no power to retaliate… With such methods and boldness, dealing with a child would be no trouble at all.
Once Ji Qingzhou finished the medicine, Xiao Shan took the bowl and left.
The room returned to just the two of them.
This time, Li Zhan didn’t wait for Ji Qingzhou to speak. He asked directly, “You said you’d follow my wishes. Do you really mean it?”
“I wouldn’t dare lie to Wang Ye,” Ji Qingzhou said quickly. “Does Wang Ye… want to keep the child…”
Li Zhan nodded solemnly, his tone carrying a trace of hopeful anticipation as he asked, “Are you truly willing… to bear this child for me?”
Ji Qingzhou found the phrasing extremely awkward, but when he thought about it, it wasn’t wrong.
The child was Li Zhan’s. And he was the one giving birth. So yes—he was bearing a child for Li Zhan.
“Wang Ye went through so much effort to overturn the Ji family’s case, promoted me, and even saved my younger sister…” Ji Qingzhou said. “Your kindness to the Ji family is beyond repaying… H-Having a child… is no big deal.”
Ji Qingzhou, despite his awkwardness, had a rather open mindset. Once he made a decision, he wouldn’t dwell on it. Though his words seemed to downplay the matter, he wasn’t truly viewing the child as a form of repayment to Li Zhan. If anything, he saw it as a mutual exchange—a returning of kindness.
He felt there wasn’t much he could do for Li Zhan. The idea that Li Zhan might have to live the rest of his life in solitude struck him as pitiful. Ji Qingzhou had to persuade himself with this line of thought.
Upon hearing this, the joy in Li Zhan’s eyes dimmed, replaced by hesitation. He should’ve expected it—as long as he expressed the desire to keep the child, Ji Qingzhou would likely not refuse. In this situation, no one else would either.
Li Zhan understood this rationally, yet he couldn’t help but feel disappointed. He knew he was too greedy, wanting more than he should.
“Actually… I didn’t overturn the case just for you… or your Ji family. Second Imperial Brother was also involved,” Li Zhan admitted.
“That doesn’t lessen the debt of gratitude you’ve shown our Ji family,” Ji Qingzhou replied. “Though… the method is a bit strange, as long as I can ease Wang Ye’s burdens, I would walk through fire and water without hesitation.”
Li Zhan: …
The more he listened, the stranger it all sounded…
“Forget it,” Li Zhan said with a bitter smile.
“So… does Wang Ye intend to keep the child or not?” Ji Qingzhou asked, confused.
Li Zhan, flustered, stood up and said, “Let me think it over.”
Understandingly, Ji Qingzhou nodded. “Indeed, it’s a serious matter. You should consider it carefully.”
Li Zhan: …
How had the youth who was blushing moments ago turned into such a block of wood in the blink of an eye?
It simply defied the law of heaven.
That day, Li Zhan shut himself in his room and didn’t come out until nightfall.
Of course, he felt disappointed. He didn’t want the child to pass on his bloodline or to have someone to bury him in the future. He wanted the child for one reason: it was his and Ji Qingzhou’s.
But he also knew that in Ji Qingzhou’s current state, he couldn’t possibly harbor any feelings beyond gratitude and respect. Let alone give birth out of affection.
Honestly, no man or woman would willingly agree to it under such circumstances…
Ji Qingzhou’s willingness was just a gesture of repayment.
Li Zhan knew this was the reasonable outcome. He shouldn’t have hoped for anything more.
There was a moment when he wanted to be generous and say, “If you don’t want to have the child, that’s fine.”
But the words wouldn’t come out.
Every time he thought about the child carrying both their bloodlines, he couldn’t help imagining what it would look like, or how it would be to raise the child together with Ji Qingzhou…
That night, Qin Zheng returned, dusty and travel-worn.
He had completed his task efficiently and seemed to be in good spirits.
“After being drugged, Prince Heng was completely useless—couldn’t even bite his own tongue to end it,” Qin Zheng said. “But he sure didn’t shut up. Talked non-stop. If I weren’t afraid he’d recognize my voice, I would’ve argued with him.”
Qin Zheng now knew about Li Zhan and Ji Qingzhou. He had been shocked, but after the long, bumpy ride back from the estate, the shock had been jolted out of him. Facing off with Prince Heng had shifted his focus entirely.
“We owe Princess Liang for this,” Li Zhan said.
“Psh… I’ve spent days eating, drinking, and shopping with her. My legs are worn thin. She owed us this favor,” Qin Zheng said dismissively.
Li Zhan cast him a distracted glance but said nothing.
Qin Zheng noticed something was off and asked, “Wang Ye, what’s wrong? Don’t tell me something happened?”
When Li Zhan didn’t answer, Qin Zheng continued nervously, “It’s not… something wrong with the little heir, is it…?”
“Shut that crow’s mouth of yours,” Li Zhan snapped.
“Scared me,” Qin Zheng patted his chest. “Then why the long face? Aren’t you happy to be a father?”
Frustrated, Li Zhan threw the memorial he was holding onto the desk. “If you have nothing better to do, go to sleep.”
“I can’t sleep, I’m too excited,” Qin Zheng replied. “What’s eating you? Don’t tell me… you don’t want the child? That makes no sense. You cleared the Ji family’s name for Young Master Ji, didn’t you? You wouldn’t reject the child unless… it isn’t yours.”
“Smack!”
With a loud slap, Li Zhan picked up a document from the table and threw it straight at Qin Zheng.
Qin Zheng hurriedly caught the file with a sheepish grin, patted off the dust, and placed it back on the desk. Laughing awkwardly, he said, “I’m just worried about you. You’ve been walking around all gloomy lately—of course I’m going to overthink things.”
“He’s unwilling,” Li Zhan said.
“Unwilling? Why?” Qin Zheng asked, baffled.
Li Zhan barely resisted the urge to throw him out and instead asked, “Why should he be willing?”
“But… aren’t you two… doing well? You’ve always been so in sync, practically soulmates! I just don’t get why he wouldn’t be willing.”
Li Zhan looked at him and asked, “If I asked you to bear a child, would you agree?”
“Of course not!” Qin Zheng jumped back in horror, looking as if he’d just seen a ghost.
Li Zhan couldn’t be bothered to respond and went back to flipping through memorials.
But Qin Zheng was relentless. “That’s different! You and I—we’re not the same!”
“How is it different?” Li Zhan shot back. “You’re a man. So is he. You see me as a brother. He sees me as a confidant. Tell me—what’s the difference?”
Qin Zheng finally caught on. “Ohh… I just realized—you’re in unrequited love with Young Master Ji!”
Li Zhan’s gaze instantly turned sharp, shooting him a warning look. For once, Qin Zheng took the hint and prepared to retreat.
Still, before leaving, he offered one last suggestion: “Just turn on the charm! Seduce him—reel in his heart!”
“Get out!” Li Zhan grabbed another document, ready to throw it, and Qin Zheng took off like a shot.
Of course Li Zhan knew how to handle it. The tricky part was the medicine in Ji Qingzhou’s system.
He’d asked the imperial physicians and even consulted the doctor rescued from Prince Heng’s people, and confirmed that the drug would remain effective for a full six months.
While there was an antidote to flush it out, Ji Qingzhou was already pregnant, and the drug had taken a toll on his body. Using more medicine to purge the effects would be even riskier. Li Zhan would never take that chance just for a couple months of time.
Only once the drug naturally wore off would Ji Qingzhou be capable of developing feelings for someone.
If Li Zhan confessed now, the result would likely be the same as the child—Ji Qingzhou might accept him out of gratitude for what he’d done for the Ji family.
But Li Zhan didn’t just want Ji Qingzhou the person—he wanted his heart.
With such greedy longing, he had no choice but to wait with patience.
The next morning, Ji Qingzhou got up early, just like always, to help Li Zhan dress.
Seeing him, Li Zhan was momentarily stunned. “You didn’t have to get up so early. You could’ve slept more—there are plenty of others to help before court.”
Ji Qingzhou took the jade belt from the young attendant and walked over to him. “I don’t want to sit around inside. It feels strange. I want things to be just like before—whatever I used to do, I want to keep doing.”
Li Zhan understood him well. He knew Ji Qingzhou couldn’t accept the idea of behaving like a typical expectant parent, staying home all day to rest.
In truth, since entering the palace—whether serving the young emperor or acting as chief eunuch—Ji Qingzhou had always been diligent. In his mind, being an attendant wasn’t an identity—it was a job. And that gave his life a sense of purpose.
Even more so now. If he stayed in his room each day, just waiting out his pregnancy, he’d feel like a caged songbird.
Not that being a songbird was necessarily bad—it just wasn’t the life Ji Qingzhou wanted.
“You all go prepare breakfast,” Li Zhan instructed the attendants. “From now on, we’ll eat before morning court.”
The others quietly left, leaving only Li Zhan and Ji Qingzhou in the hall.
“I’ll have them pay special attention to your meals. The imperial physicians will likely come by more often too,” Li Zhan said.
“Yes,” Ji Qingzhou replied. He reached around Li Zhan’s waist, ready to fasten the jade belt.
But Li Zhan suddenly pressed down on his hands. Ji Qingzhou’s hands were still cool from just waking up, while Li Zhan’s palms, broad and lightly calloused, felt warm in contrast.
For a moment, they were so close—their pose almost intimate.
“I’ll do it myself,” Li Zhan said quietly, his voice warm and his breath brushing Ji Qingzhou’s ear.
“Alright,” Ji Qingzhou nodded gently, withdrawing his hands and turning to fetch Li Zhan’s ceremonial headpiece.
Moments later, he helped Li Zhan put it on.
Li Zhan’s eyes lingered on Ji Qingzhou’s slightly trembling eyelashes as he suddenly said, “I’ve made up my mind… I want to keep the child.”
Ji Qingzhou didn’t look surprised. He just nodded and answered, “Yes,” never once meeting Li Zhan’s eyes.
A flicker of unease passed through Li Zhan’s gaze. Even though he’d known what Ji Qingzhou’s answer would be if he were given a choice, he had still indulged himself in saying it aloud. The feeling was unpleasant, and made him feel an unexpected pang of guilt.
“Thank you for everything,” Li Zhan said in a low voice.
Only then did Ji Qingzhou finally look up at him. His expression remained calm, and his voice was equally composed: “No need to thank me. It’s my duty.”
Li Zhan: …
What kind of weird conversation was this?!
Despite the recent chaos, court affairs had remained strangely calm.
That morning in court, someone brought up the topic of a martial arts contest between the Capital Garrison and the Western Camp.
Ji Qingzhou didn’t know much about the Western Camp, but he knew that the Capital Garrison was commanded by Qin Zheng’s father.
At first, the court was merely discussing the competition. But gradually, the topic shifted, and someone began questioning the need for two military units with such similar responsibilities—both were charged with defending the capital. In times of peace, wasn’t that a waste of resources?
Ji Qingzhou frowned inwardly. Were they trying to convince Li Zhan to downsize the military?
He recalled that the martial contest had originally been suggested by the Ministry of War. Li Zhan had approved it as a way to assess both units. Now that officials were talking about cuts, Ji Qingzhou wondered if the two events were connected.
Before, he might have assumed the ministers were just trying to oppose Li Zhan again.
But after everything that had happened, his first thought now was: Could this all be part of another plan Li Zhan was quietly arranging?
“These two camps have jointly defended the capital for years without issue. The Ministry of War already proposed a reorganization plan. There’s no rush—this can wait for further discussion,” Li Zhan said.
Though he didn’t give a definitive answer, he didn’t reject the proposal either.
The officials understood this wasn’t something to decide in a day, and they dropped the matter.
After court, Qin Zheng looked visibly displeased.
It was no surprise. Since his father commanded the Capital Garrison, any reduction in forces would likely affect their camp the most.
But both he and Li Zhan tacitly avoided discussing the matter, and Ji Qingzhou chose to shelve his doubts for now.
“Ji Gonggong… I missed you so much these past few days!” The young emperor hadn’t seen Ji Qingzhou in a while and clung to him after court, arms raised for a hug.
Ji Qingzhou bent down to pick him up, but Li Zhan reached out, grabbed the back of the emperor’s collar, and lifted him two steps away. Clearly, he didn’t want Ji Qingzhou to carry him.
“Imperial Uncle, why are you pulling me?” the young emperor protested.
Li Zhan replied, “Your Majesty is already five years old—not a little child anymore. You can’t let just anyone pick you up.”
As he spoke, his gaze lingered briefly on Ji Qingzhou’s stomach—his meaning obvious.
The imperial physicians had said Ji Qingzhou couldn’t exert himself or lift anything heavy. Now that Li Zhan thought back to how often Ji Qingzhou used to carry the emperor around, he felt deeply uneasy. From this day forward, such things would not happen under his watch.
The young emperor pouted, looking very wronged.
But he had always been obedient. Since Li Zhan had spoken, he didn’t protest.
“Then can I kiss him?” the boy asked, tilting his head up expectantly.
Li Zhan quickly covered his mouth with a hand. “No kisses either.”
Ji Qingzhou didn’t know why Li Zhan was acting so strangely today. He had originally wanted to say it was no big deal, but when he saw the sharpness in Li Zhan’s eyes and the unmistakable don’t-argue-with-me aura radiating from him, he decided to hold his tongue.
The young emperor crossed his tiny arms over his chest and pouted, clearly throwing a small tantrum. Li Zhan, helpless, reached out and pinched his cheek, a small gesture meant to soothe him.
After Li Zhan turned around, the young emperor stuck out his tongue at him behind his back, then trotted over to Ji Qingzhou with little tapping steps. “I’ll listen to Imperial Uncle and not let you carry me anymore…” he declared seriously, “but I can still hug you.”
As he spoke, he threw his arms around Ji Qingzhou. Given his height, when he hugged Ji Qingzhou, his small head landed perfectly against Ji Qingzhou’s belly…
When Li Zhan turned back around, what he saw was the young emperor hugging Ji Qingzhou tightly around the waist, his little face nestled against Ji Qingzhou’s stomach, grinning cheerfully as he turned his head to look right at him.
Li Zhan: …
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