The Split Torrent
Chapter 5 of A Splendid Match story.
This one is about financial conspiracy, family surprises, ridiculous dolls and the Emperor being the MVP. Also, some secondary storylines find closure.
P.S. Word count is towards 13k, it's a longer piece than usual.
It was many years later that Gu Jin Zhao found out the real reason she was never prescribed a contraceptive tonic when coming out of her forced abstinence. Her physicians simply could not bring themselves to tell the venerable Pillar of the State that his wife was likely left barren following her traumatic miscarriage. Instead, they were â once again â silently praying for a miracle, or at least hoping to retire to far away places before the formidable Grand Secretary came demanding medical explanations.
But at the time, Gu Jin Zhao remained safely unaware of these dark prognoses, completely ecstatic with her newfound taste of married life. Following a brief period of total seclusion in their private city residence â a getaway that both Jin Zhao and Yan Yun thought was entirely too short, though the real world stubbornly awaited them â the Grand Secretary relocated his family back to their primary residence across from the Wenyuan Library. He then resumed his state duties with doubled vigor. Being happy and loved will do that to a man.
Gu Jin Zhao, never one to sit back and rest for long, returned to running her vast business empire. There were many days when she questioned â very silently and only to herself â if running the actual imperial state would have been any less exhausting than managing her own books.
Still, she managed, relying heavily on the steady support of her trusted friends and family. Gu Lan ran their expanding network of restaurants; her Er Gege went on with his highly profitable maritime trade â where Gu Jin Zhao also held a hefty share â and it was only her most ambitious venture that kept her slightly alarmed.
The Piaohao draft house she had opened years ago â first in the mountain province of Shanxi, then in the bustling capital city, and later in the wealthy coastal port city of Songjiang to cater to her massive textile and overseas trade â was beginning to flash strong warning signs.
Her capital branch was currently headed by her younger brother, Gu Jin Rong. After a few dangerous run-ins with the shady side of the capital's gambling circles â and a fiercely firm talking-to his brother-in-law had secretly delivered so as not to stress Gu Jin Zhao while she was pregnant with A-Ying â Jin Rong had turned a clear new leaf. He had walked the straight and narrow ever since, prompting Jin Zhao to eventually entrust him with the leadership of this vital branch.
And it was he who finally brought his worrying discoveries to Gu Jin Zhao's attention: three flawless Huipiao bank drafts, each denominated for an astronomical payout of ten thousand taels of silver. It was a staggering sum, but the one that Gu Jin Zhaoâs financial network could have easily absorbed, were it not for one small, highly inconvenient detail â the drafts were absolute forgeries.
Physically, they were completely impeccable. The paper was the correct, ultra-thin provincial stock, and the jade master seals carried the exact, microscopic signature flaws unique to the capital branch's genuine stamp. Yet, these drafts were entirely absent from their capital ledger books. They looked so absolutely real that they had easily fooled the less experienced tellers of the Shanxi branch, and would have gone completely unnoticed if it werenât for the intricate rolling cipher code that the forgers didnât get quite right.
When a covert audit conducted at the Songjiang branch uncovered two more of the exact same forged drafts, Gu Jin Zhao realized a crisis was brewing that threatened far more than just her personal wealth and standing. It directly threatened her family, her husband, and the stability of the land. Because her bank handled crucial imperial grain imports and the frontier army's payroll, the government regularly checked their vaults for reasons of national security. The bank simply could not be allowed to fail â and if Chen Yan Yun's imperial auditors discovered the missing silver before she found the traitor within her own walls, the Pillar of the State would be forced to tear down his own wife's empire. And that would absolutely not do.
With that thought in mind, Gu Jin Zhao assembled her little army of minds tasked with finding the culprit and the true extent of the forgery ring before it toppled her bank. Her Er Gege, through his extensive connections in the port cities, was looking into large shipments that would warrant high-paying drafts changing hands â this was the way two forgeries had come into the possession of the Songjiang branch, through standard merchant transactions. Her contacts in Shanxi traced the path taken by three separate individuals who had cashed in thousands of taels worth of drafts â where did these people come from, and where did they go in a dangerous northern frontier where it wasnât safe to travel light, let alone with a convoy of physical silver ingots?
And in the capital, both Gu Jin Zhao and Gu Jin Rong were looking into their own branch employees â the exceptionally tight circle of people who would know both the unique imperfections of the master seals and the secret coding script used for the Huipiao drafts. Gu Jin Zhao didnât want to bring her husband in just yet, afraid he would be legally forced to report the breach of financial safety before she had enough evidence to prove her bank's innocence. She didnât want him to have to choose between his duty and his heart, because she knew exactly what choice heâd make and what it would cost him in the aftermath.
But the issue came to a head much earlier than sheâd anticipated, and for the most absurd reason.
She fainted.
ââ â ââ
It was late in the morning, after the breakfast crowd had subsided and the people rushing in for lunch had not yet arrived at Linxia Studio. Gu Jin Zhao and her guests were served refreshments in the secluded, well-protected study at the back of the restaurant. Gu Lan, having made the necessary arrangements and properly chastised their brother for not visiting his nephews often enough, left them to their important discussions.
Er Gege started first. "Not much to report yet, Zhao-mei. I have a list of people who did business with the merchants who traded in those fakes, but, as far as I can tell, there was nothing special about the deals or the merchants themselves. Run-of-the-mill people, have been around long enough to have some reputation to their names, never caused much trouble. The silver they withdrew, they immediately used to purchase different bulk orders, put them on the ships, and sailed off. Now, how they went about getting those high-value drafts in the first place is a much more interesting story â and Iâll know more the moment their ships make port again."
Gu Jin Zhao nodded along â indeed, it sounded more like they needed the story behind how those drafts showed up at the port city, rather than how the money was later spent. Well, they would have to wait for that story, then.
Luo Yongping added his findings from the Shanxi branch. "Two of the people who brought in our fakes were as unremarkable as Er Gege just said â came in, got the silver, spent the silver, and left. But one man was far more interesting. He arrived early and stayed in Taiyuan for a while, doing nothing of notice, at least as far as local street vendors and the servants of the guest house where he stayed could tell. Then he received ten thousand silver taels, loaded them into closed wagons â and vanished completely. Some say they saw a few wagons traveling through the Niangzi Pass shortly after, but why anyone would take such a valuable, heavy cargo through those dangerous mountains, I cannot understand. But Iâll keep searching."
Gu Jin Zhao made a mental note to check for any undocumented cargo caravans entering the capital gates, but thinking was proving exceptionally difficult for her this morning. Her mind felt disoriented, heavy, and floating, as if she hadnât eaten for days. She tried to reach for the chadian snacks served to them â the assorted plates of boiled tea quail eggs, dried tofu cubes, and water chestnut cakes â but something deep in her stomach protested violently at the mere sight of food. Gu Jin Zhao turned away from the table, temporarily forgoing the idea of food.
Gu Jin Rong looked deeply contemplative, chewing on his lower lip as he pored over the records spread in front of him. Gu Jin Zhao asked softly, "Rong-er, what is it? Have you thought of something?"
Gu Jin Rong raised his eyes to the group. "I have a list of the tellers we employ in the central capital branch â a total of eighteen men, working on a strict rotation. I checked into all of them; I can personally vouch for ten, and Iâm still looking into the other eight. But also, there were two we let go about a month ago because they simply were not cut out for the task. We have changed the rolling cipher code since then, but the code on the forgeries is wrong either way, so that doesn't tell us much. The master seals, however, remained the same. And now that I think about why we let them go, and what common thread connects those dismissed clerks, high-paying Huipiao drafts, and Taiyuan... only one thought comes to mind. Gambling."
Gu Jin Zhaoâs mind raced. Through the thick fatigue and haze, a realization tried to escape her, but her thoughts were faster! Of course! It was brilliant. This was the perfect way to distribute fake drafts without drawing immediate branch suspicion. They simply gambled with them â here in the capital, in the wealthy port cities, in Taiyuan, and in underground gambling dens across the country. All the real money the conspirators win goes directly to the forgers; all the money they lose costs them absolutely nothing, as they are only losing fake paper! Meanwhile, the innocent citizens who win the drafts in the dens know nothing, completely unaware that they have entered a distribution network for high-stakes forgeries.
But⊠what is the real business here? How much can they truly win with these fakes to go through all this trouble and risk getting caught by the state? UnlessâŠ
"Unless..." The word escaped her lips in a breathless, unconscious whisper as the crucial piece of the puzzle violently slammed into place. Her voice trailed off entirely, her eyes widening. Er Gege leaned forward anxiously. "Unless what, Zhao-mei?"
Gu Jin Zhaoâs face turned paper-pale, and a sudden wave of bitter bile rose up her throat. "Unless they want these forgeries to be caught. Unless they are deliberately doing it to my bank, knowing that the grand imperial audit next year will uncover these massive discrepancies, bankrupt the institution, throw treasonous shade at my husband, and completely destabilize the grain trade between the port cities and the capital⊠I have to talk to San Ye."
Gu Jin Zhao shot up from her seat â and that was the exact moment the world around her went dark. The room tilted violently, and the last thing she felt was a pair of strong hands breaking her fall, and the frantic, echoing voice of one of her brothers screaming for a physician.
ââ â ââ
I have to talk to San Ye. I have to tell him. He should be ready. He will know what to do. But I have to tell him first. I need to get to San Ye.
âShh, Jin Zhao, itâs all right. You got to me. Youâre safe,â the soothing voice of her husband was beckoning her from behind the heavy darkness, and she fought hard to dispel the fog surrounding her.
The heavy scent of sandalwood and winter frost â his familiar, deeply grounding scent â gradually filled her senses, anchoring her floating mind back to her body. She felt the solid, comforting warmth of his broad chest beneath her cheek, the fierce, protective circle of his arms holding her against his heart.
But as her ears stopped ringing, she realized the soothing voice he used for her was very much in contradiction with the pure fury currently vibrating through his chest. Above her head, Chen Yan Yun was breathing fire.
"If her eyelashes so much as flutter in pain while you touch her, imperial physician, I will personally see to it that your entire bureau spends the next decade auditing grain taxes in the frozen marshes of the northern frontier," Yan Yun growled, his voice a low, terrifying sound that made the wooden floorboards of her private study in Linxia Studio seem to tremble. "You assured me this morning her vital energies were fully restored. Explain to me why my wife is currently senseless in my arms."
"Grand... Grand Secretary, please stave your anger," an elderly, trembling voice squeaked from somewhere near her feet. "The Third Lady's pulse is merely... it is a temporary exhaustion of the Qi brought on by a sudden, severe shock to the mind. We must be exceptionally gentle. No harsh aromatic vinegars, no piercing needles. We must let her spirit return entirely on its own."
Jin Zhao forced her heavy eyelids to crack open, the flickering candlelit view of her private workspace slowly coming into focus.
Directly over her sat the elderly court physician, his face absent of color, his hands visibly shaking as he maintained a light, careful three-finger touch upon her bare wrist, tracking her pulse. He looked as though he was handling a piece of fragile glass, periodically casting terrified glances upward at her husband.
Sensing the slight shift in her weight, Chen Yan Yunâs gaze snapped down instantly. The murderous glare vanished in a moment, replaced by a raw, naked panic that stripped him of all his Grand Secretary grandeur.
"Jin Zhao," he breathed, his hand immediately cupping her cheek, his thumb brushing over her pale skin with a desperate, worshipful touch. "Look at me, beautiful. Are you with me? Where does it hurt?"
"San... Ye," she whispered, her throat dry, her voice sounding incredibly small even to her own ears. She tried to shift, to sit up and address the looming threat of the Huipiao forgeries, but the moment she moved, Chen Yan Yun tightened his possessive hold, pressing her back down against the crook of his shoulder.
"Do not move," he commanded softly, though the tremble in his tone betrayed him completely. "You fainted, Jin Zhao. You are staying exactly where you are."
The elderly physician let out a long, audible sigh of relief, though he kept his fingers firmly pressed against her wrist, his eyes widening slightly as he counted the rhythmic beats. A sudden, knowing stillness washed over the doctor's wrinkled face, replacing his panic with a look of profound, stunned reverence.
"Ah... Heaven protects the house of Chen," the physician murmured, his voice dropping into a breathless, cautious whisper. He slowly retracted his hand, bowing his head all the way to the floorboards. "Grand Secretary... Third Lady... the sudden stagnation of Qi that caused the fainting spell... it was not born of illness. It is the rising of the embryonic pulse. The Qi is slippery and full, like pearls rolling across a smooth basin."
The silence that slammed into the room was absolute.
Jin Zhao felt Yan Yunâs entire body turn to stone beneath her. His hand, which had been gently stroking her hair, froze momentarily. He stared down at her, his eyes unblinking, his calculating, empire-managing brain completely aborted for the second time in a day.
"What did you say?" Chen Yan Yun whispered, the words barely passing his throat.
"The Third Lady is with child, Grand Secretary," the doctor replied softly, keeping his head low to give them privacy. "Roughly a month along... Heaven has seen fit to grant a divine intervention. But because of the recent trauma to her womb, the lineage is exceptionally fragile. She must have absolute rest. No worries, no stress, and no shocks to the mind."
Jin Zhao's hand instinctively flew to her lower abdomen, her heart hammering loudly in her ears as the doctor's words sunk in. A baby. Alive and growing inside her. Her body, which her physicians repeated at every appointment was still far too void of feminine energy to conceive, had chosen to rebuild itself faster, defy all medical odds, and give them another life to cherish and protect. Their little miracle.
But then, her eyes drifted past her stunned husbandâs shoulder, landing squarely on the low desk where her younger brother stood frozen. Jin Rongâs face was pale as death, his fingers still tightly clutching the five forged Huipiao drafts that brought them all together this day.
The trap was closing, but the rules of the game had just fundamentally changed.
She was pregnant. Her body was healed enough but still weak, requiring absolute calm and serenity, and a multi-thousand-tael conspiracy was currently sitting on her desk. She had wanted to run to him tonight to warn him, to protect him from the fallout of this scheme. But now, with a tiny life growing inside her, she didn't just want him in on it â she needed him to take the lead and protect them. Her and their miracle child.
Jin Zhao swallowed the dryness in her throat, her hand moving from her abdomen to firmly cup Yan Yun's tightened jawline, forcing his dark eyes back to her.
"San Ye," she whispered, her voice gaining a steady clarity that cut through the stunned silence of the room. "Look at me. Breathe."
His eyes blinked, the fierce, brilliant Grand Secretary slowly assembling himself back together behind his gaze. "Jin Zhao... a child... you... so soonâŠ"
"Yes, a child. A precious one, which means I cannot afford to be stressed," she interrupted softly, offering him a small, loaded smile. She tilted her head toward the desk, her gaze pointing directly at her younger brother. "Which is why you need to look at what Rong-er is holding. I wanted to bring them to you tonight because someone is using our capital master seals to drain the coastal vaults in Songjiang and border vaults in Shanxi. It threatens the grain supply, San Ye. It threatens the frontier payroll."
Chen Yan Yunâs posture shifted instantly. The tender, doting husband didn't vanish, but the sharp, dangerous presence of the Pillar of the State surged to the forefront. His gaze snapped over his shoulder toward Gu Jin Rong, his eyes narrowing into a cold, calculating squint at the mention of the master seals and national security.
Jin Zhao leaned her head back against his shoulder, letting out a long, exhausted breath as she watched her husband's legendary mind immediately lock onto the threat. "I wanted to warn you first, San Ye. Now... I need you to handle it. For me. For our family."
ââ â ââ
That night, when the children were safely tucked away, Jin Zhao slid comfortably into the chaise lounge that had been moved close to Chen Yan Yunâs heavy chair, the forged drafts spread out before them over a low table under the warm glow of a single beeswax candle.
When he gently asked why she had been so hard-pressed to take this exhausting, undercover investigation entirely upon herself rather than letting the Ministry of Justice officially handle it from the start, Jin Zhaoâs gaze hardened with a fierce pride.
Years ago, a dangerous political plot had attempted to frame Chen Yan Yun for a failure to deliver disaster relief grain to flooded areas. Her own father, Gu De Zhao, had been in charge of the capital grain storage back then, and his lazy, spineless negligence had directly allowed the conspirators to swap out the stored imperial grain for useless bran, nearly ruining Chen Yan Yun's rising career.
"The Gu family has already given you enough trouble in this life by being stupid and easily manipulated," Jin Zhao said, her voice dropping to a low, fierce murmur as she looked up from her silk pillows. "I refuse to let a bank carrying my name bleed your ministries, and I refuse to be one of those dainty ladies who leaves a mess for her husband to clear. I wanted to at least attempt to solve this before I brought the problem to you."
Chen Yan Yun looked down at his amazing wife, the sheer depth of his adoration catching tightly in his throat. He dipped a fine calligraphy brush in water, lightly dampening a specific corner of the parchment to reveal the true genius of the forgery to her.
The counterfeiters weren't printing fake bills from scratch; they were washing the ink off genuine, low-value one-hundred-tael drafts using a rare, non-destructive chemical solvent, then rewriting them into ten-thousand-tael fortunes. They kept the authentic paper stock, the real watermarks, and the valid master seals, but they had to subtly alter the intricate rolling poetic cipher to match the higher numbers.
To anyone else, the poem read normally. But Jin Zhao and Yan Yun knew the exact rhythmic mathematics of the Gu Piaohao codes. The forgery ring had made a single, arrogant mistake: they had used a synonym for a specific mountain in the verse â a word that maintained the poem's literal meaning and structural rhyme, but broke the secret mathematical sequence used to calculate the bank's daily liquidity.
"A lyrical substitution," Jin Zhao chuckled softly, leaning back against her pillows with a triumphant smile. "They thought the bankers were only checking the rhyme, not the underlying numbers. Itâs an elegant riddle, San Ye. But they forgot that the Grand Secretary practically rewrote the Ministry of Revenue's accounting codes during his reforms."
Chen Yan Yun let out a low, deeply impressed chuckle, carefully rolling up the incriminating scrolls. He leaned forward, checking the dark perimeter of the bedchamber before looking down at her with a mixture of intense pride and soft amusement.
"Were you not the love of my life to be protected at all earthly costs, and currently carrying my child," he joked, his voice dropping to a warm, intimate murmur, "I would recruit you into the Ye Shadow Guards tomorrow for your investigative abilities alone. My black-robed agents could learn a great deal from how you maneuvered past my notice to dismantle a financial conspiracy."
Jin Zhao let out a sharp, breathless laugh, her eyes dancing with mischievous brilliance. "I shall have to humbly decline the honor, Grand Secretary. Black is truly not my color, and sneaking around in the dusty rafters would severely mess with my ability to run my tea-party gossip circles. A lady must maintain her priorities."
"Very well," Yan Yun conceded, his expression shifting from soft amusement back to the concentration that belonged entirely to the Pillar of the State. He did not reach for the official stationery of the Ministry of Justice; instead, he carefully dplaced the forged parchments back into his deep sleeve. "But we will not involve the ordinary courts just yet. The Ministry of Justice is still too clumsy, too public. If someone is washing imperial-grade ink, they have access to state-level materials. I need to know for whatever purpose they are amassing so much wealth. The Ye Shadow Guard will move on this tonight."
Jin Zhao adjusted her posture against the silk pillows, looking up at him with a thoughtful frown. "San Ye, must you unleash the shadow network so soon? It may not be a grand political conspiracy this time. It could very well be a simple, greedy money-making scheme."
"I am not willing to take that risk," Yan Yun cut in, his voice dropping to a low, fiercely unyielding register. "Not with the empire's economy, nor its political stability, nor with..."
He trailed off, his jaw tightening as his dark eyes averted to the shadowed corners of the bedchamber. He didn't finish the sentence, but Jin Zhao knew him far too well to need the spoken words. He meant to say not with our family.
A heavy, ghostly shadow of grief passed through his handsome features â the silent reminder of the agonizing guilt he still carried for his past oversights eight months ago. Jin Zhao had never once faulted him for the tragedy that had sent them to the temple refuge; there was absolutely nothing for her to forgive him for in the first place. Yet, looking at the sudden tension in his broad shoulders, she could only hope that with enough time, he would finally find a way to forgive himself completely.
Jin Zhao watched him, her heart aching at that persistent emotional weight, but she nodded in silent agreement. He would hunt the masterminds through the dark channels of statecraft; she, however, would dismantle them from the light.
ââ â ââ
The following days were filled with a joyous, yet reserved happiness. The Chen household erupted into way-too-early preparations for a child whose pulse was barely registering on a doctor's fingertips. While Jin Zhao still carried that ominous, lingering anxiety â the distinct fear of being truly happy, lest she invites a bad omen to disrupt her joy â she had to admit she was easily infected by the festive energy flowing freely through the corridors of the Chen Mansion.
Old Madame Chen showed up with the Second Lady Chen in tow to congratulate the newly expecting parents on doing their duty properly and extending the great Chen bloodline into future generations. Chen Yan Yun graciously endured a lecture on the doâs and donâts of early pregnancy â as if he had not gone through this exact period a few times before â and agreed to all his motherâs recommendations, only to completely dispel them from his mind a moment later. When the Chen Matriarch tried insisting on the third couple returning to the main ancestral Chen Manor so that the heir could be born under its historic roofs, she received a gentle but firm refusal from her son, citing the prevailing need to be closer to the imperial infirmary located just down the street from their city mansion. Outmaneuvered, the Matriarch let the subject drop for now.
Second Lady Chen played her role of an elder sister-in-law with patronizing poise. She congratulated the parents-to-be and subtly insinuated that this pregnancy's success was entirely due to the advice she had previously given regarding Jin Zhaoâs "marital diligence." Chen Yan Yun, immediately catching onto the strange, underlying subtext in the exchange between the women, raised a questioning eyebrow at his wife. Jin Zhao merely squeezed his forearm and shrugged, a silent 'no matter' passing between them. Over the last few years, his wife had got much better at relying on his support and refusing to take unnecessary stress onto her own shoulders alone, so Chen Yan Yun trusted her judgment and let the bizarre comments slide. If Jin Zhao wasnât bothered by it, neither was he.
Once the Chen Matriarch was satisfied with the execution of her wisdom-bestowing duties, she received formal greetings from the children, quickly grew annoyed with the untrained, free-roaming presence of a cat, and left to continue her extended capital itinerary.
Later, Chen Yan Yun learned that his mother had gone completely out of her way to visit her many noble friends and spread the good news â partially to boast, but mostly to relish the faces of the high-born ladies who had previously sent their fake, snide condolences regarding the premature cessation of the third Chen lineage due to an "tragically barren" principal wife.
Suddenly, Grand Secretary became deeply interested in the exact social route his mother had taken. He quietly inquired about specific households who had dared to discuss his wifeâs health and family private trauma for their own morbid amusement. The list of names was delivered to his desk later that day, promptly stored away for an opportune moment. Chen Yan Yun wasnât vindictive per se, but he possessed an impeccable memory, and he did not forgive easily. Not right now, perhaps. But eventually. Later.
For now, it was a time for a quiet, hopeful wait, and his family prepared in their own unique ways.
A-Ying, four-and-a-half years old at the time, instantly went into full big-sister mode. She took to dragging the long-suffering family cat, Baopu, into her quarters to forcefully practice the delicate art of infant swaddling while singing tone-deaf lullabies. Baopu merely glared with wide-eyed, murderous indignation, enduring the tight silk wrappings with the grim patience of a saint.
A-Han, not even three years old, was still a bit too young to understand the gravity of a new family member's arrival. He simply continued on his merry way, hopping through the polished corridors of the Chen Mansion and cheerfully spreading dirt from the garden in all directions. He had become briefly interested in the concept of a new playmate once his brother or sister was born, but his attention span wasn't quite there yet. His excitement lasted only until a particularly colorful butterfly crossed his path â and off he went. Oh, well; he had seven more months to get into the spirit of brotherhood.
ââ â ââ
But the most unexpected preparation of all came from a direction no one could have anticipated. The young Emperor took a deep, intensely personal interest in Jin Zhaoâs condition, a fact he casually announced during yet another completely impromptu visit to their home.
The very next afternoon following the Chen Matriarch's visit, a sudden commotion at the front gates disrupted the bustling administrative rhythm of the neighborhood. Located in the heart of the capital's downtown, directly across from the imposing government quarter, the Chen Mansion sat in a prime location. It was a notoriously short and convenient trip from the Forbidden City â a logistical detail the current ruler of the Dragon Throne had apparently decided to exploit at his leisure.
There had been no prior notice from the palace, no official decree delivered by a breathless eunuch â just the unmistakable, majestic uproar of an imperial arrival.
They really need to put a bell on that young man, Chen Yan Yun mused walking to the main hall to greet their new guest, considering how often the ruler of the empire simply shows up at our front door out of nowhere.
Before the house stewards could even finish adjusting their robes in a panic, a pair of imperial advance guards stepped ahead, throwing the heavy wooden doors open to clear the path. The Son of Heaven himself marched straight into the reception hall. He was bursting with his usual boundless energy, looking around the elegant courtyard with a small, theatrical pout.
"Grand Secretary," the Emperor mused, pausing to smooth the rich silk of his imperial yellow robes. "We cannot help but notice that your family lives so exceptionally close to Our palace gates, practically a stone's throw from the ministries. And yet, We do not recall ever receiving a formal invitation to visit here."
Chen Yan Yun stepped forward, bowing with practiced, effortless court precision. "Your Majesty, the rules of imperial protocol dictate that a subject does not presume to summon the sovereign. Furthermore, the Emperor requires no invitation to enter any home in this state."
And even if Thee did need an invitation, Chen Yan Yun added silently to himself, maintaining a perfectly stoic face, Thee have never once bothered to wait for one.
The seventeen-year-old ruler was a notoriously strong-minded, stubborn individual who treated the boundaries of his own palace with casual disregard whenever he grew bored of his ministers' bickering.
Turning his attention directly to Jin Zhao where she stood beside her husband, the Emperorâs eyes landed on her, and a sudden, endearing awkwardness overtook his youthful features. He cleared his throat loudly, shifting restlessly as he navigated the delicate topic.
"Third Lady," the Emperor began, his voice rising a bit too loudly in an attempt to sound authoritative. "We have... hrm... come to understand that the, ah, foundations of the state are currently in a delicate state of... expansion. Yes. Expansion. As the sovereign, it is Our absolute duty to ensure that the, well, the vitalities of our most trusted families are thoroughly preserved."
He waved a hand in a general, careless direction behind him, where the massive group of imperial retinues had gathered just outside the threshold, currently pouring through the gates in an overwhelming invasion.
"Therefore," the monarch announced with satisfaction, "these exemplary servants will be residing within the Chen Mansion henceforth, remaining by the Third Ladyâs side and attending to her every need until the successful... ah... resolution of her current condition."
Gu Jin Zhao blinked, her eyes widening as she stared past the Emperorâs shoulder at the sheer volume of people taking over her main room. It was far more people than the Chen Mansion could ever comfortably accommodate, effectively turning their quiet family home into a heavily fortified imperial outpost. There were elite court physicians, stoic food tasters, and a small army of guards who began taking up positions along the high walls.
She glanced at San Ye, who looked entirely unamused by the unexpected royal ambush, and decided to take the lead.
"Your Majestyâs benevolence is as vast as the heavens," Jin Zhao said, bowing her head gracefully while keeping a perfectly polite smile. "However, this humble subject fears our modest mansion simply does not have enough quarters to house such a formidable group. Surely, so many new people will only cause... a disruption to the very serenity my physicians prescribed?"
The Emperor frowned, opening his mouth to counter, but then he caught the look on his Grand Secretaryâs face. Chen Yan Yun hadn't said a word, but his dark eyes were fixed on his sovereign with the silent, heavy gravity of a lifelong mentor who was currently losing his patience.
The young monarch broke under the pressure of The Stare. He let out a distinctly un-imperial sigh, throwing his hands up in defeat. "All of you, out. Leave us. Now."
With a swift rustle of silk and a chorus of hurried murmurs, the massive retinue retreated to the outer courtyard. The Emperor turned to the remaining men in the room â a small squad of elite, black-robed guards who stood like statues against the walls. He raised a finger to dismiss them too, but then paused. Protocol simply would not allow him to be entirely alone, and besides, these were men of the Ye Shadow Guards. Both he and Grand Secretary trusted them implicitly.
Once the doors were shut, the Emperorâs posture relaxed, the upright majesty fading away to reveal the honest young man underneath. He stepped closer to the Chen couple, looking squarely at Jin Zhao.
"Listen to me, Gu Jin Zhao," the Emperor said, his tone suddenly turning incredibly strong, almost stubborn. "The empire absolutely cannot afford anything happening to you, and by extension, to your esteemed husband. When you were in danger eight months ago, Chen Yan Yun was â"
A sharp, lethal glare from the Grand Secretary cut through the air like a flying dagger. Chen Yan Yunâs jaw tightened â a silent warning not to bring up that dark period in front of his expecting wife.
The Emperor caught himself, his stubborn expression instantly softening into something open, almost vulnerable. He looked between the two of them, the boundaries of the monarchy fading for a brief, warm moment. To him, Chen Yan Yun was not just a minister; he was the guiding force of his life, the closest thing to real family he possessed in a cold, calculating court.
"I am not willing to take that risk again," the Emperor said softly, his voice dropping into a sincere plea as he addressed Jin Zhao. "When you were⊠unwell⊠the Grand Secretary almost... he was a husk of a man. And I need my Pillar of the State whole. I am asking you, as a personal favor, to endure this protective detail for the sake of the land. I promise you, they will be exceptionally discreet and very helpful."
Jin Zhao looked at the young ruler, her heart softening at the genuine affection hidden under his imperial concern. She could see how much he truly cared for her husband's well-being and his loved ones. But as a merchant heiress, she also knew that a good negotiation always left both sides satisfied.
"Your Majesty's worry touches this subject deeply," Gu Jin Zhao murmured, tilting her head with a small, mischievous glint in her eyes. "But perhaps we can find a balance? For the peace of our household, we shall accept one food taster, two physicians, and four guards to live on the premises. As for the rest of your formidable army? Can they, maybe, attend to me when I am out and about in the capital, or station themselves outside my work studies across the city?"
The Emperor stared at her for a moment, a sudden, amused grin breaking across his face. He looked over at Chen Yan Yun. "Grand Secretary, your wife is bargaining with the Son of Heaven. Is this not a breach of court etiquette?"
"She is a merchant at heart, Your Majesty," Chen Yan Yun replied, the corners of his lips twitching into a subtle smile as he stepped closer to his wife's side. "And a very practical one. I believe her proposal is sound. I implore Your Majesty to consider its merits."
"Very well, We concede," the Emperor chuckled, nodding to Gu Jin Zhao. Then, his expression turned serious again, his eyes darting toward the windows as he lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "But I must honestly let you know â your family will also be assigned an unofficial Ye Guards protection detail around the perimeter. You should not notice them at all. If you do happen to spot one of them, you must let me know immediately."
"So you can reprimand them?" Jin Zhao asked.
The words slipped past her lips before she could catch herself. A cold spike of fear immediately shot through her, and she froze, her breath catching in her throat. As friendly and almost intimate as this conversation had become behind closed doors, one did not casually question the reasoning of the Emperor.
She opened her mouth to smooth over the misstep with a formal apology, but the young ruler didn't even blink.
"No," the Emperor replied, choosing to ignore her momentary lapse of decorum. "So I can change them out for a different squad. We will keep rotating them until we find the ones who are truly, completely invisible. My shadow network cannot lose its reputation to a pregnant lady's sharp eyes."
Jin Zhao let out a bright, breathless laugh â partly out of genuine amusement, and partly out of sheer relief that the young sovereign had taken her attitude in stride.
The anxious fog that had followed her since learning their happy news finally began to dissipate, replaced by a profound sense of security. She looked at the her Emperor, appreciating the true brilliance behind todayâs masterclass in imperial posturing. By sending a literal fleet of attendants to Chen Mansion front gates, the Emperor had just delivered an unmistakable message to the entire capital.
He was publicly drawing a line in the sand around the Chen household. Anyone lurking in the shadows, planning a way to harm her family, would now have to look at that imperial detail and think twice â no, think a thousand times over â before attempting anything untoward. The throne had declared them untouchable.
Even Chen Yan Yun let out a low, genuinely relaxed chuckle beside her. The tensed posture of the Pillar of the State softened as he bowed his head in deep, unvoiced gratitude to the young master of the empire. Here, in the quiet safety of their private quarters, the heavy weight of the crown had vanished. In its place stood a family, fiercely united and prepared to guard their greatest treasure together.
ââ â ââ
In the Chen Mansion, the months went by in a whirlwind of comings and goings, achieving grand milestones for the empire while cherishing the small, ordinary joys of the family.
If anyone were to show up at court these days and inquire about what was occupying the great Grand Secretaryâs mind, they would be handed a long list of ongoing national endeavors. His highest office was kept extremely busy spanning from the critical realignment of the Grand Canalâs southern grain transport barges to the urgent reinforcements of the northern frontier garrisons, and down to the deeply classified, midnight investigations into the washed Huipiao banking forgeries through the Ye Shadow Guards.
Yet, if anyone were to ask Chen Yan Yun what truly troubled him most these days, he would look them dead in the eye and say, "That ridiculous doll."
He was referring, of course, to the birthday gift brought by Ji Yao for his favorite nephewâs third birthday. One day Er Gege showed up to their courtyard with that western wooden monstrosity, teaching both A-Han and A-Ying how to wage war against the "Red Pirate of the Malacca Strait" with bamboo swords. Every time the weighted pirate doll was whacked, it smoothly bobbed back upright, prompting a fresh string of high-pitched battle cries from exited children. Their family evenings were now filled with dramatic, loud reenactments of imaginary high-seas fights and grand adventures. As entertaining as these domestic shows were, it was becoming increasingly difficult to put the children to bed or focus them on their lessons.
Unlike in his tense ministerial briefings, no amount of furrowing his eyebrows or adding a dangerous, gravelly edge to his tone impressed his children. The all-powerful Pillar of the State, apparently, held absolutely no dominion over his own household.
He blamed it entirely on his wife. Jin Zhao had deliberately raised their children to be completely fearless of anyone â especially not him, whom they only ever viewed as their protector.
Well, there went his carefully cultivated image as a force to be reckoned with, sacrificed on the altar of their beautiful family. He wouldnât have changed it for anything in the world.
Gu Jin Zhao was far less concerned with toy battles and far more concerned with the lack of progress on the forgeries case. The audit of her bank was coming up in four months, right around the time of her delivery, and she did not want this problem to throw shadow over her nursery. Alas, the traces they had few months ago went cold and repeated checks of bank drafts in all three branches did not reveal any new forgeries. It was if the perpetrators caught wind of their investigation and decided to lay low for a while â and Gu Jin Zhao did not have âa whileâ to spare.
Chen Yan Yun shared his wifeâs concern and they have agreed should their off-the-books investigation not yield any results in the next two months, they will bring the issue to the attention of the Emperor and order a formal involvement of the Ministry of Justice â at least, this way their names will be clean of any shadow of criminal connections to the case. The result, however, would still most likely be that Gu Piaohao operations will be suspended for the time of investigation which would effectively mean closing this business for good.
And yet, this was not what concerned Jin Zhao the most and kept her secretly awake at night. This pregnancy⊠something was different⊠it felt heavy, difficult, like her energy drained more and more with every passing day⊠it didnât feel right.
ââ â ââ
The heavy, suffocating scent of dried mugwort and valerian root hung low in the reception hall of the Chen Mansion.
Imperial Physician Gao, an esteemed pillar of the Grand Medical Bureau whose white beard reached his mid-chest, slowly lifted his thin fingers from Gu Jin Zhaoâs wrist. He closed his eyes, humming an extended note of disapproval.
"It is exactly as I feared," Physician Gao croaked, adjusting his robes with self-important snap. "The Qi is rebellious, the pulse is ragged and shallow, rolling like a pebble in a dried stream. Third Lady, you are severely depleted."
Jin Zhao leaned back against the silk bolsters, suppressing a wave of violent nausea that had nothing to do with the incense. Her face was unusually pale.
"Physician Gao," she began, her voice tight but entirely coherent. "With both A-Ying and A-Han, I passed my early months easily. I managed my shipping ledgers until the very day of their arrival. But this time... it is entirely different. The fatigue is so strong I cannot even walk across the yard without losing my breath, and the morning sickness does not fade with the noon sun. It stays. All day."
Physician Gao let out a sharp, clicking sigh through his teeth. "And why should it not? You are suffering the consequences of absolute recklessness. Your foundations were shattered by the unfortunate loss, yet you chose to enter into childbearing again far too early, forcing a depleted body to nurture a seed it cannot sustain."
Jin Zhaoâs eyes flashed with a sudden, dangerous heat. She opened her mouth to speak, but the words trapped themselves in her throat. Chastising me? she thought, a spike of red fury rising in her chest. You, old fossil. It was your own Medical Bureau that cleared my restrictions at the six-month time, so concerned for my husbandâs âneedsâ! Not a single one of your 'esteemed' colleagues warned us of a premature pregnancy, nor did anyone cared to prescribe a preventative tonic! The imperial physicians truly possess the short memory of a common pond fish.
Beside her, Chen Yan Yun did not speak. He sat perfectly still, his hands resting flat on his knees. To an outsider, the Grand Secretary looked like a composed marble statue, but Jin Zhao knew him better. She heard the tiny, dangerous catch in his breath. She saw the way his jaw muscles locked so hard a thin vein popped along the column of his throat, and how his broad shoulders were hunched slightly forward â as if he was reading to shield her from an attack.
He was absolutely terrified. The ghost of their lost child still haunted the dark corners of his mind, and the old doctor's careless words had just struck him exactly where he was hurting still.
"What must be done, Physician Gao?" Chen Yan Yun asked. His voice was leveled, but Jin Zhao could hear the raw, suppressed desperation she felt too.
"Absolute containment," Gao declared with a grand, all-encompassing gesture. "The Third Lady must be placed under strict movement restrictions. No managing businesses. No workings of mind â mental exertion drains the Zhongqi. Furthermore, I am prescribing a daily regimen of the Triple-Bitter Black Decoction to force the rebellious stomach Qi downward."
The old doctor paused, clearing his throat awkwardly as he glanced at Chen Yan Yun. "And finally... absolute separation of quarters. Total marital abstinence. The essence of the Grand Secretaryâs Jing will only disturb the fragile heat of the womb. You must sleep in separate wings of the mansion until the child is born."
Jin Zhao felt her heart sink. Separate wings? Four more months? She reached out, her fingers catching the edge of San Yeâs sleeve, but her husbandâs face had already gone completely blank â the mask he wore when he was executing an unpopular state decree.
"It shall be done," Grand Secretary replied, his voice heavy with finality. "Every restriction. I will personally ensure it."
Jin Zhao squeezed his arm, trying to catch his eye, but Chen Yan Yun refused to look at her. He was already struck by the terrifying duty of keeping her alive, even if it meant locking her in a gilded cage.
ââ â ââ
Not even a full week later, the air in Jin Zhaoâs private study at her downtown commercial office felt blissfully free of Physician Gaoâs suffocating rules. She had strictly forbidden Chen Yan Yun from locking her in the bedroom during the day, compromising instead on a "light afternoon" at her desk, located just few houses down the street from the government quarter.
"The northern maritime shipments are balanced," Gu Jin Rong said, smoothly flipping a page of the thick leather-bound ledger. Jin Zhao's brother was moving through the numbers with practiced efficiency. "But these specific drafts from the Taiyuan branch... something about the ink transition looks exceptionally odd. It doesn't match the grand imperial audit templates."
"Let me see," Jin Zhao murmured, her eyes sharp. This was her secret agenda. She had no intention of letting her brain rust, and more importantly, she needed to decipher the exact logistics of the fake Huipiao drafts before the state audit in few months.
Before she could pull the ledger closer, a sudden, sharp knock sounded at the door.
Gu Jin Rong blinked, looking up. "Ah, the courier from the southern wharf mustâve arrived. Give me a brief moment, Zhao-mei, I will fetch the cargo manifests myself."
"Go," she nodded, offering a warm smile.
The moment the heavy wooden door clicked shut behind Rong-ge, leaving her alone in the quiet study, the room walls suddenly seemed to tilt. A wave of icy dizziness washed over Gu Jin Zhao, her chest tightened and a cold sweat broke out across her forehead. Not again, she thought, a spike of genuine fear piercing through her stubbornness. Not this time.
Realizing she needed fresh air, Jin Zhao gripped the edge of the desk and pushed herself up. But the moment her feet took her weight, her knees turned entirely to cotton. The room spun violently. Recognizing her body's limits, she did not fight gravity. Instead, she slowly slid down alongside the desk, lowering herself until she was sitting flat on the polished wooden floor. She took deep, measured breaths, waiting for the spinning to stop. Jin Zhao was entirely conscious, but entirely powerless to move.
Not even three minutes passed before the door to her study didn't just open â it practically flew off its hinges.
Gu Jin Zhao blinked her blurry eyes, expecting to see a panicked Rong-ge or Qing Pu. Instead, a young man in clean, simple medical robes stumbled headfirst into the room. He looked thoroughly disheveled, his official cap knocked sideways, his breath coming in short gasps. Directly behind him, a tall figure in a midnight-black silk robe stood in the threshold. The black guard didn't say a single word. He quickly glanced at Jin Zhao, gave the young doctor a firm, unceremonious shove forward into the room, and then vanished into thin air, leaving the door to swing shut.
Gu Jin Zhao stared, her mind â which was, again, entirely functional â was assessing the ins and outs of this situation. She slowly looked up toward the high, circular window of her study. It was barely open a crack â not even wide enough for a human head. Did someone truly looked after me through that tiny opening closely enough to see me go down? she thought, a small, breathless laugh escaping her lips. The Emperor wasn't joking. Those shadows are invisible and effective.
"Third... Third Lady Chen?" the young doctor asked, still a bit out of breath as he sat next to her on the floor. "Forgive the intrusion. I am Doctor Lin. I am stationed down the street as part of your... ah... city retinue. A very serious, very quiet man literally dragged me out of my pharmacy and practically threw me over your wall."
Before Jin Zhao could answer, the door burst open a second time. Poor hinges.
Chen Yan Yun stepped into the room, his long strides cutting through the space like a winter storm. He had been on his way to pick his wife up for their usual evening stroll, only to receive an urgent report that his wife was attended by the medical practitioner. His face was a mask of pure, unguarded terror as his eyes landed on her sitting against the desk. In an instant, he was on his knees beside her, his strong arms wrapping around her shoulders, his hands trembling slightly as he looked her over for injury.
"Jin Zhao," he breathed, his voice filled with a rare, raw vulnerability. He looked at Doctor Lin, his dark eyes flashing with a dangerous, protective glint that would have sent any normal official running for the exits. "What happened? Did she faint? Did she fall?"
Jin Zhao, her dizziness finally receding, rolled her eyes dryly. She tapped his forearm with her fingers, drawing her husbandâs attention from the doctor back to herself.
"I did not faint, San Ye," she retorted, her tone dripping with her usual, deliberate sass. "Nor did I fall. I felt a temporary wave of insufficiency, recognized the structural limitations of my legs, and graciously descended to the floor on my own accord. Thank you very much."
Chen Yan Yun stared at her, the sheer relief making him look momentarily lost for words. A low, exhausted sigh escaped his lips, and he leaned his forehead against hers for a brief second. "You will be the death of me, wife. You cannot be left out of my sight for an hour."
Doctor Lin let out a small, highly amused chuckle. He didn't tremble, nor did he bow to Chen Yan Yunâs domineering presence. The doctor simply waited for the couple to finish their bickering, clearing his throat politely as he extended his hand. "If the Grand Secretary is finished measuring his wife's stubbornness," Doctor Lin said with a pleasant, respectful smile, "may I properly take the Third Lady's pulse?"
Chen Yan Yun gave the young doctor a long, assessing look. Finding a rare, steady resilience in the young man's eyes, the Grand Secretary slowly nodded and assisted Gu Jin Zhao onto a low cushioned chair. Doctor Lin placed his fingers lightly upon Jin Zhao's wrist and tilted his head, as if listening to rather than feeling the pulse under his fingertips. For a long, quiet minute, the study was eerily silent. The doctor's brow furrowed, his fingers shifting slightly, pressing deeper into the skin with intense concentration.
Then, slowly, a genuine, wonderfully warm smile broke across Doctor Lin's face. He let out a soft breath and lifted his hands, bowing deeply from his seat â not out of fear, but out of pure, joyous relief and reverence.
"Congratulations, Grand Secretary. Third Lady," Doctor Lin announced, his voice ringing with clarity. "The Third Lady's body is not failing, nor is she broken from her past hurt."
Jin Zhao frowned, her heart skipping a beat. "Then why do I feel so exhausted and out of sorts, Doctor Lin?"
"Because you are double-blessed," Doctor Lin stated, his eyes shining with delight. "The pulse is not a single shallow rolling stone, Third Lady. It is a split torrent. It is a Shuang Tai â a double pregnancy. You are carrying twins."
The words struck the room like sudden, glorious lightning. Jin Zhao froze, her hand instinctively flying to her abdomen. Twins? Her mind, usually so fast, completely stilled. She looked at San Ye. The great Pillar of the State, the man who handled foreign invasions and financial crises without blinking, looked entirely struck dumb. Chen Yan Yunâs mouth parted slightly, his eyes wide as he stared at his wifeâs well-rounded stomach, a mixture of profound shock and overwhelming joy washing over his features.
"Twins..." Chen Yan Yun whispered, the word tasting so foreign on his tongue. His eyes narrowed slightly as he leaned forward, pinning the young doctor with an intense, searching gaze. "How sure are you of this, Doctor Lin? If it is a double pregnancy, why has none of the senior court physicians from the Grand Bureau detected it before now?"
Doctor Lin did not flinch under the weight of the Grand Secretary's intimidating gaze. Instead, his smile only widened, entirely comfortable holding his own against the most powerful minister in the state.
"The Grand Secretary's caution is entirely justified," Doctor Lin replied smoothly. "But a twin pregnancy is notoriously elusive in its early stages. In the first few months, the pulses are so tightly intertwined, rushing together, that even the most experienced masters frequently misinterpret the turbulence as a severe deficiency or an illness. These things are usually only clearly detected after the fifth month of pregnancy â which is exactly where the Third Lady stands now. The pulses have finally separated into two distinct, rolling torrents. I simply happen to be the lucky one who was called to her side on the day the truth revealed itself."
Doctor Lin bowed his head slightly, his tone remaining firm. "I am certain of what my fingers have felt, Grand Secretary. But do not take my word alone, you must absolutely verify my findings with the other physicians attending to your wife. Once they lay their hands on her wrist today, they will see the same split torrent I did."
He paused, adjusting his position with an absolute, quiet authority so rarely seen in other people when Chen Yan Yun was around. He had completely taken control of the room, looking directly at Gu Jin Zhao with an assuring, steady gaze.
"In truth, this double blessing explains every single one of your strenuous symptoms," Doctor Lin continued, his voice clear and certain. "Carrying two lives requires double the blood volume and double the resources. Because you conceived only a few months after your loss, your body was already working hard to rebuild itself. The moment the twins took root, your internal energies had to expand too quickly, causing this massive, violent rebellion in your stomach and lungs. It was never a sign of weakness, Third Lady â it is the physical proof of your body working at maximum capacity to sustain them."
Chen Yan Yun stepped forward, his protective instinct instantly flaring. "Then the restrictions... the bedrest? The isolation?"
"Absolute nonsense," Doctor Lin said flatly, dismissing Physician Gaoâs entire life's work with a wave of his hand. "If the Third Lady lies in bed all day staring at the ceiling, her Qi will completely stagnate, her blood will turn sluggish, and she will sink into melancholy. She needs fresh air. She needs light, joyful movement with her family. To create new life, one needs to live too."
Gu Jin Zhao felt a massive, invisible weight lift off her chest. She beamed at the young doctor. "And the Triple-Bitter Black Decoction?"
Doctor Lin winced, looking genuinely disgusted. "Why do people insist on it? It is far too harsh for a double pregnancy. I will prescribe a mild soup of red dates, dried longan, and white bird's nest to gently build your blood supply. You do not need to force your stomach down; you need to nourish it with good, light food." He then looked directly at Chen Yan Yun, offering a small, knowing glint in his eye. "As for the separation of quarters... I would not recommend it. The Third Lady needs comfort, stability, and the familiarity of her husband to anchor her mind. While I must advise⊠vigor moderation regarding full martial intimacy for the next few months to keep the womb secure, you should absolutely share a bed. Hold her, keep her warm, and do not let her stress herself."
Chen Yan Yunâs shoulders finally dropped completely, the cold, arresting tension draining from his body for the first time in months. He looked at Doctor Lin, a profound, unvoiced respect solidifying between the two men. There was still some verification to be done, but from what Chen Yan Yun remembered of his own medical studies years ago, Doctor Linâs approach was the correct one. It would seem like Chen household has found someone who would tell them the truth, someone who wouldn't cower in the face of the Grand Secretary authority.
"Thank you, Doctor Lin," Chen Yan Yun said, his voice thick with gratitude he rarely showed to anyone outside his immediate group of close friends and colleagues. "Henceforth, Iâm appointing you the primary physician managing my wife's care. Figure out who else from the Bureau can attend to her and give me the list. Iâll see to it."
Once Doctor Lin had finalized his prescriptions and departed with a respectful bow, the study fell into a deep, gentle quiet. The heavy doors were shut, the bustling downtown outside felt far away, and even the invisible Ye Shadow Guards in the rafters seemed to hold their breath to give them privacy.
Chen Yan Yun didn't speak; he simply dropped to one knee before his wife, pulling both of her hands into his warm palms. He pressed his face against her knuckles, kissing them softly.
Jin Zhao looked down at him, her eyes bright with unshed tears. She gently released one of her hands to cup his jaw, her thumb brushing softly against his cheekbone. A brilliant, radiant smile broke across her face.
"Two, Yan Yun," she whispered, her voice trembling with a newfound joy. "There are two of them in there. No wonder I felt like a pirate ship had run me over."
Chen Yan Yun looked up, his dark eyes shining with an intense tenderness. He reached out, his palm resting flat against her well-rounded abdomen, his fingers spreading wide as if he could already shield both of the tiny lives growing beneath his touch.
"Two," he repeated, a low, genuinely happy chuckle escaping his throat. He leaned forward, wrapping his arms fully around her waist, burying his face against her knees as she held him tightly. Two people waiting to welcome their miracles into the world together.
ââ â ââ
Turns out, peace of mind was indeed a great healer. Now that Jin Zhao knew exactly what her body needed and why, it was much easier to manage the ever-present symptoms of her double-blessing. She quickly worked out a daily rhythm that suited both her and her little pirates â resting during the severe bouts of nausea, staying active when the dizziness receded, and retreating to the safety of her cushions when the fatigue returned. Her productive hours grew significantly shorter, but Jin Zhao figured that growing two human beings around the clock counted for a lot, so she could easily forgive herself for lagging behind in her usual duties.
In truth, her actual workload had been effectively reduced to only one critical task â figuring out the logistics of the forgery case.
Chen Yan Yun had been strongly against her doing anything remotely dangerous or tiring, but Jin Zhao had argued that her womanly way of obtaining information couldn't possibly be dangerous, unless sheer boredom was considered a medical threat to her sanity.
"You see, my dear husband, it is time for me to enter my Concealment of Conception period, where I will demurely hide my belly from society, as it is apparently improper and scandalous to display nobility in their reproductive state," Jin Zhao had remarked snidely during one of their many late-night negotiations. "The next four months will be dedicated solely to drinking tea, eating my weight in delicate cakes, watching flowers grow, and listening to birds chirping â along with all the other thrilling pastimes allocated to expecting mothers."
Her voice had been positively dripping with sarcastic contempt as she challenged her husband. She was daring him â her exquisitely smart husband, who famously grew bored during state-level negotiations if his opponent wasn't sharp enough â to argue against her right to entertain her mind during these mind-numbing months of tradition-prescribed seclusion. Faced with that razor-sharp glare, Chen Yan Yun had surrendered. His wife was going to do it her way regardless, but through a calculated strategic retreat, he at least retained the privilege of being kept in the loop on her research.
And it wasn't even that Jin Zhao planned any exciting, covert operations. Her method was as old as human society itself. She went hunting for gossip.
Moving through well-attended tea parties, refreshing morning walks in secluded private gardens, visiting important temples, and attending calligraphy workshops at the Academy for Esteemed Ladies, Jin Zhao quietly listened to the ambient chatter of high-ranking noblewomen and middle-tier officials' wives. Within a few weeks, her sharp mind began to notice a peculiar, shallow pattern of consumption across the capital.
A few unassuming families had suddenly turned their lives toward a quiet, unearned opulence. The wife of a low-level clerk in the Ministry of Revenues had overnight acquired rare, southern jade hairpins; the household of a mid-tier magistrate had suddenly replaced their aging servants and purchased a richly decorated carriage, despite having no inheritance or successful estates to explain their sudden fortune. Jin Zhao knew the profit margins of the small textile and grain businesses these families ran â they were barely a drop in the capital's bucket, absolutely incapable of generating this level of sudden wealth.
It was a classic, arrogant display of human nature. These were just the foot soldiers of the forgery ring â the small-time merchants and clerks who possessed enough legitimate trade background to hold ten-thousand-tael drafts without raising suspicions â only to then conveniently gamble away their forged ârichesâ. They believed themselves subtle, but they had completely forgotten that society lived and breathed gossip, however insignificant it might sound to an untrained ear.
When she quietly slipped the list of these newly enriched families into San Yeâs hand one evening in his study, the Grand Secretary let out a low, dangerous hum of absolute satisfaction. The circle was closing.
Yet, there was only one specific name on that list that Jin Zhao asked to handle on her own.
Chen Yan Yunâs immediate, protective instinct was to say "no" and spare his wife a potentially unpleasant, emotional confrontation. But looking at the quiet resolve in her stance, he realized she needed this conversation for her own closure. So, with promise to keep her shadow guards close and her trusted Qing Pu even closer, Chen Yan Yun reluctantly agreed to the upcoming meeting.
After all, this particular thread was family.
ââ â ââ
The meeting took place in a private courtyard of a small tea house on the northern edge of the capital.
Jin Zhao sat perfectly still by the lattice window, her hand resting casually over her rounded stomach. Across the low table, a charcoal stove purred softly, heating a pot of her favorite afternoon tea.
When the door slipped open, Gu Lian did not walk in so much as she stumbled through the threshold.
The years had not been kind to the second branchâs most spoiled daughter. The haughty, malicious girl who had once gone out of her way to be a nuisance, who had tried to ruin Jin Zhaoâs reputation for sheer fun of it, looked completely frayed.
"Zhao-jie," Gu Lian choked out, her voice trembling as she collapsed onto the cushion across from her cousin. She looked as though she might throw herself across the table, but the rigid, silent presence of Qing Pu standing behind her mistress kept Gu Lian anchored to her seat. "Thank heavens you agreed to see me. You have to save us. You have to speak to the Grand Secretary."
Jin Zhao didnât blink. She poured a single cup of tea, pushing it across the table with a slow, measured motion. Her face was a mask of serene, unbothered calm. She felt no anger looking at the woman before her. The petty rivalries of their youth were a lifetime away, faint memories buried under a mountain of indifference. Gu Lian was simply holding information Jin Zhao needed and that was all there was to this meeting.
"Drink your tea, Lian-mei," Jin Zhao said, her voice leveled and smooth. "And tell me why Yao Wenxiu is peddling counterfeit drafts across the imperial provinces."
Gu Lian flinched at the direct mention of her husbandâs name, letting out a sharp, ragged gasp. "He... he had no choice, Zhao-jie! You know what he is like. You know the Yao family â Lord Yao left them with grand titles but empty pockets. Wenxiu went to the gambling dens. He ended up with a debt so massive, the gambling house threatened to take our children, to sell our home! The forgery ring found him when he was desperate. They gave him the drafts. He was just a carrier, not a mastermind! He only did it to keep the debt collectors from our throats."
"And you knew," Jin Zhao observed quietly. It wasn't a question.
"I found them," Gu Lian wailed. "I found a stack of drafts hidden in his study months ago. I confronted him, and he told me they were forgeries. But what was I supposed to do, Zhao-jie? If I reported him, he would be executed or imprisoned, and the children and I would be thrown into absolute poverty! I have two children, Jin Zhao. Two! You are a mother now, too, and you are carrying again â surely you must understand my fear? We are family! Blood flows thicker than water. You cannot let Grand Secretary destroy us!"
Jin Zhao watched her calmly, completely unmoved by the dramatic performance. There was a faint touch of disappointment in her eyes â not at the crime itself, but at how pathetic Gu Lian looked, clinging to a self-appointed grace that had never actually existed.
"Do not invoke my children to justify your husband's crimes, Lian-mei," Jin Zhao said, her tone dropping into a harsh coldness. "And do not speak to me of family now, when your branch spent years trying to cut the ground from beneath my feet. I am not interested in your tears. I am interested in a single answer."
Gu Lian stopped weeping, swallowing hard as she looked at her cousinâs unyielding expression. "A-Anything. Ask me anything, I will tell you."
"Why my bank?" Jin Zhao asked, her sharp eyes locking onto Gu Lian's face. "The forgery ring has the skill to mimic any major financial house in the empire. Why did they target my bankâs Huipiao drafts? Are there any other banks they counterfeit for?"
"No," Gu Lian whispered, leaning forward, eager to trade any secret for a chance of mercy. "No, it's only yours. Wenxiu overheard some discussion at the teahouse⊠Those people figured that if the forgeries were ever uncovered, your husband would cover up the scandal to protect you. Everyone in the capital knows how deeply Grand Secretary loves you. They knew he would never let a stain touch your name, so they thought your bank was the safest gamble."
Jin Zhao paused. For a long moment, the only sound in the room was the soft purring of the charcoal stove.
A faint amused glint touched her eyes, though her face remained entirely cold. It was a classic, spectacular miscalculation of arrogant human nature.
How fascinating, Jin Zhao mused silently to herself. These conspirators managed to notice San Yeâs love for me, yet they completely blinded themselves to his fight for prosperity and law in our state. And why on earth would they think he would have to blame the forgeries on me in the first place, when I am entirely innocent? So, are they smart or are they dumb?
"Wenxiu knows names," Gu Lian pressed on, sensing the shift in the room, her voice desperate and pleading. "He knows the mid-tier clerks who hand off the shipments. He knows the storehouses in the southern district. We will give you everything, Gu Jin Zhao. Just promise me you won't let Grand Secretary execute me. Promise me my children won't be left begging on the streets."
Jin Zhao slowly rose from her seat, smoothing down the front of her silk robe. The air of the room felt lighter now; the final piece in the forgery puzzle had clicked into place.
"You will be escorted home by few of my guards. Write down every name, every location, and every date you and your husband can remember," Jin Zhao commanded quietly, looking down at her weeping cousin. "If the information proves accurate and leads to the arrest of the inner ring, I will speak to my husband about a lenient verdict for your family."
Gu Lian let out a ragged sob of relief, nodding quickly "Thank you... thank you, sister..."
Jin Zhao did not look back as she stepped out of the tearoom, her shadow guards instantly aligning themselves around her as she walked down the corridor.
With the names and locations extracted from Yao Wenxiu, the trap snapped shut quickly. The Ministry of Justice launched a swift and successful investigation into the bank draft forgeries. What followed was a wave of high-profile arrests and seizure of all properties and unearned wealth connected to the ring. From low-level clerks to corrupt regional magistrates, the hidden conspiracy was thoroughly dismantled within a matter of days.
The Yao household was found guilty of state-level financial fraud, but the execution blade never dropped. Instead, through the quiet legal intervention of the Grand Secretary, the family was sentenced to five years of state labor at a reclamation camp in the western territories. It was a hard punishment, but a merciful one: the camp was one of the newly reformed imperial districts where families were kept together, meaning Gu Lianâs two children would still get to attend the regional academy and live a life of relative normalcy while their parents paid their debt to the state.
âŠ
When Yan Yun wrapped his arms around Jin Zhao that evening in their private study, resting his chin on her shoulder as they looked out over the quiet courtyard, he murmured softly against her neck.
"The Yao family has begun their journey west," he said, his deep voice carrying a relaxed, content rhythm. "The children will be cared for. Are you satisfied with the arrangement, wife?"
Jin Zhao leaned back against his chest, letting his familiar warmth anchor her as she placed her hand over his. "Very satisfied, San Ye. They are exactly where they belong."
ââ â ââ
The last month of the pregnancy was exceptionally difficult for Jin Zhao, for the simple reason that she had gained so much weight. Her legs were swollen like logs, and her breathing was shallow and labored, leaving her constantly feeling as though she had just finished the run of her life. Doctor Lin assured her that it was perfectly normal for a twin pregnancy, but his reassurance didnât make it any easier to move around while feeling like a loaded Fujian Fuchuan â a comparison Er Gege had so helpfully provided when he last visited their home a few weeks back.
Jin Zhao had seen these heavy, deep-hulled vessels in the port cities; the state used them both as massive grain transports, and heavily armed war-junks to smash pirates. They didn't roll or tip; they simply plowed straight through the waves by sheer weight. Gu Jin Zhao too felt like she could move through any terrain by simply flattening it straight. Still, she missed being able to stand up on her own. She missed seeing her toes. These kids couldnât come fast enough.
The delivery, when it finally arrived, was a grueling affair that stretched past a full day and night. For a twin birth, the ancient protocols of the Chan Fang were strictly enforced: windows were blinded with heavy silk to block out the sun, and the room was considered ritually unclean. No man, let alone the Grand Secretary of the Empire, was permitted to enter the room, for it could place a dark omen over his political career and great lineage. The Chen Matriarch absolutely insisted upon this.
Pacing a trench into the stone veranda outside, Chen Yan Yun felt pushed to the brink of madness by his wifeâs muffled cries. Sensing the Grand Secretary's desperation, Doctor Lin briefly stepped out of the delivery chamber to bring him word.
"Calm your heart, Lord Chen," Doctor Lin murmured, his voice a steady anchor for Chen Yan Yunâs panicked thoughts. "The Third Lady is exhausted, but she is fighting magnificently. If her strength truly fails and her life requires your presence, I will come get you myself â and all traditions be damned."
An hour later, the agonizing wait finally ended as two healthy, robust cries pierced the morning air. Standing in the quiet corridor, the young physician offered the new father a deeply respectful bow, a proud smile touching his lips.
"You chose an extraordinary woman, Grand Secretary," Doctor Lin said softly. "There is no medicine in the empire that could match the stubborn willpower your wife displayed today. Come, join your family."
Jin Zhao had delivered a healthy boy and a beautiful girl, in that exact order, before sinking into a deep, motionless sleep that lasted an entire day. Yan Yun watched over her with concern, afraid she had slipped into a coma, but Doctor Lin assured him she was merely spent. True to her resilient nature, the moment Jin Zhao opened her eyes, she loudly demanded two things: her babies, and a very large bowl of food.
While she had slept, Chen Yan Yun had locked himself away with his inkstone to finalize their names. For their son, he chose Chen Yi Sheng â the one who maneuvers through fate to claim victory, honoring the boy who beat the odds. For their daughter, he chose Chen Wan Ni â meaning as if a rainbow has returned, a name recognizing her as the bright light coloring the sky after their darkest, most violent storm. And just like that, in the early hours of a beautiful summer morning, their rainbow babies had arrived, bringing a magnificent new beginning to the Pillar of State and his lifeline.















