Chapter 57: Impairment

Li Qian’s face was deeply troubled, yet he halted his steps. Zuo Li immediately pulled him back a few paces and was about to help him sit down when the embroidered cotton curtain, patterned with auspicious clouds, was gently lifted from inside. Out stepped a doctor, a year or so older, with long, drooping silver-white eyebrows that framed his eyes.

Zuo Li was the first to speak. “It is truly an honor to have the court physician here today. May I inquire about the Consort’s condition?”

The court physician’s expression grew graver still. He bowed respectfully to Li Qian and said solemnly, “Your Highness, the bleeding has been stopped. The Consort’s life is not in danger.”

He paused, his eyes flickering slightly, prompting Zuo Li to hastily dismiss the maids and attendants from the room.

Though seated, Li Qian’s heart was heavy with worry. He unconsciously clenched the blue jade thumb ring hidden in his sleeve, suspicion growing within him. Everyone knew the unborn child, not yet full term, was unlikely to be saved.

If only Gu Tan’s life could be preserved, it would already be a blessing.

The physician continued, “However... this time, she has sustained severe injuries. If not for the female doctor’s acupuncture and my exclusive hemostatic medicine today, we would be facing a tragedy—two lives lost.”

The faces in the room darkened. Li Qian sighed softly and turned back to his seat. Zuo Li glanced at him and then continued, “Doctor, your efforts are deeply appreciated. As long as she recovers, she must take good care of herself. There will be opportunities to bear heirs in the future.”

At these words, the physician hesitated, his slender eyes briefly scanning Li Qian before lowering his head. Sensing his reluctance, Zuo Li gently encouraged him, “Please speak freely, Doctor.”

The physician nodded and bowed his head solemnly. “The Consort’s injuries are grievous. I fear... it will be difficult for her to conceive in the future.”

The words fell like ice in the heart, freezing and numbing all present.

A long silence stretched in the chamber. Shen Quanyi stood behind the others, watching Li Qian, who seemed momentarily dazed. She placed her clenched fist on the table and then gently grasped Li Qian’s wrist with her small hand.

Gradually, Li Qian regained his composure, though a shadow of desolation lingered on his face. He glanced up at Shen Quanyi, whose sorrowful eyes revealed a depth of grief he had never before shown.

“The Consort now suffers the deepest wounds, both in body and spirit. Surely, at this moment, she longs for His Highness’s comfort,” Shen Quanyi whispered cautiously.

Zuo Li, suppressing the pain on her face, forced herself to speak firmly, “In that case, we must trouble the doctor to prescribe the necessary medicines.”

The court physician nodded, and the female doctor behind him quietly withdrew.

Li Qian rose and entered the inner chamber again. Zuo Li sighed softly but did not stop him.

Outside, Zhu Lian looked toward the bright yellow figure behind the screen and bowed respectfully. Li Qian waved her off. Her tear-streaked face betrayed exhaustion; her swollen eyes resembled walnuts. She moved quietly to the bedside and gently drew back the bed curtain.

The thick, soft embroidered quilt was stained with mottled blood. The vivid red marks pricked everyone’s eyes painfully.

A warm stove heated the room, making it as cozy as spring, yet stepping inside chilled the heart.

Though treated with medicine, time had passed. Now, when she stirred slightly, Gu Tan painfully lifted her heavy eyelids. A tearing pain in her abdomen forced her mind into sharp clarity. With trembling hands, she caressed her now-empty flat belly. Tears traced pale lines down her cheeks, confirming the nightmare was real.

Unable to hold back, Gu Tan sobbed aloud. Her fists pounded the bedframe heavily, causing her long black hair to sway and obscure her face.

Zhu Lian could not bear to watch. She knelt beside the bed and clasped Gu Tan’s cold hand, choking on her own tears. “Though the little master has left us, Your Highness, you must take care of yourself. At least think of our eldest brother and second sister.”

“My Lord! Our child—my child—is gone,” Gu Tan’s wretched cries pierced the air like needles in everyone’s hearts.

Shen Quanyi lowered her gaze but noticed Zuo Li’s hand concealed in her sleeve, tightly clutching the red jade Buddhist prayer beads until her knuckles turned white.

Li Qian sat at the bedside, holding the grieving woman close. The bitter scent of medicine and faint metallic tang of blood filled his nostrils, unsettling him deeply.

Gu Tan’s voice grew hoarse from crying. Suddenly, she rose from Li Qian’s embrace, dazed, then sat up on the bed, shifting restlessly as though searching for something.

The others were puzzled, but Zhu Lian, still weeping, did not react until Gu Tan found something in the corner of the bed. She clutched it tightly and threw herself back into Li Qian’s arms.

It was a baby’s undershirt. Gu Tan gripped it fiercely and lifted it for Li Qian to see. Pain surged through his heart as he lowered his eyes to the embroidered character on the cloth.

“Yue.”

He sighed silently. It was the name he and Gu Tan had promised the child.

“You’re only weakening yourself like this. The child is lost, and we both grieve deeply, but no one can take her place. This misfortune was unforeseeable,” Li Qian said, closing his eyes briefly despite a pounding headache. He struggled to soothe the restless Gu Tan, who shook her head while clutching his robe.

“No! My Lord, I do not believe it.”

Li Qian hesitated but continued with difficulty, “Do not grieve excessively. There will still be... never mind. You have Huai and Ping to keep you company.”

But Gu Tan could not hear a word, struggling to turn away. Her fox-like eyes, once bright, withered and lost their spirit as tears fell. She pointed at those gathered and cried, “It must be a jealous traitor in the palace who poisoned my child! It’s their scheme! They killed our child! You must avenge our child!”

Su Jin was startled by her sudden accusation. She hid behind Zuo Li, clutching her handkerchief and crying softly. A cold gleam flashed through Zuo Li’s dark eyes, yet she spoke more gently, “Consort Gu, I understand your pain over your loss, so I will overlook your earlier words.”

“But I must warn you: accusations without proof are the greatest taboo in the inner palace. If you continue this way, you will only harm your own health further.”

Hearing this, Gu Tan’s anger flared. Despite the excruciating pain, she gritted her teeth and declared, “No! It is your guilt! If you had not plotted against me, my child would not have died so young!”