"Rou'er."
Suddenly, Tantai Ye's voice echoed from the corridor ahead.
He walked over, took her hand, and kissed her on the forehead.
"I knew you'd be in a hurry to see them. Come, I'll take you."
When they arrived at the Northern Palace, many people had already come and gone, paying their respects from the noble families and royalty of the capital.
Xiao Chizhan, tired of the crowd, eventually closed his doors to visitors.
Yun Shang Que.
The hall was quiet, with only Lan Murou and a few close friends.
Ye Luan's physical condition was quite good. She leaned against the bedside, her complexion rosy, showing no signs of having just given birth.
Wei Qingge stared with her large, bright eyes at the two babies in the cradle, her hands itching to touch them but afraid to, constantly rubbing against each other.
"A boy and a girl! The girl's red eyes are truly beautiful, just like the Prince's."
Lan Murou playfully dangled the baby's small hands in the air, a gentle smile spreading across her face.
"She is quite beautiful."
Ye Luan raised an eyebrow, "It would be great if they were all like Xiao Chizhan."
"By the way, have you decided on names yet?"
"The Imperial Observatory sent over twenty books long ago, but Xiao Chizhan was not satisfied with any of them and named them himself," Ye Luan complained, then added, "Xiao Huangge, Xiao Jingheng."
Hearing the names, Lan Murou suddenly recalled a phrase, "The Yi River strings a song, the phoenix soars; the actions of the worthy are like a jade ornament."
"Is it an older brother or sister?"
Ye Luan smiled, "A brother and sister."
Wei Qingge's hands were too eager to be still. Seeing the two infants curiously staring at her with their large eyes, she couldn't help but reach out to play with them.
These two children were not shy. They grabbed her hand and tried to nibble, but their strength was too small, and they missed, pouting at being teased.
The baby girl opened her big eyes, tilted her head to look at her fierce brother, and began to giggle, flailing her arms as if to clap.
Ye Luan watched them, a smile forming, her heart filled with softness.
"The babies are so cute, I want them all."
Hearing Wei Qingge, Ye Luan said, "If you want them, then have one yourself."
"No, I've already agreed with Li Qiongyu that after attending Murou and Brother Liu's wedding, we'll go travel the mountains and rivers."
Wei Qingge excitedly began to sketch their future, swaying the two babies in the cradle as she spoke.
"I want to be Ge'er and A'Jing's godmother."
Ye Luan chuckled, "Alright."
Lan Murou and Wei Qingge stayed for a long time, only leaving as dusk began to fall.
Tantai Ye had been talking with Xiao Chizhan and the others outside the corridor. Seeing her emerge, he accompanied her back to his manor.
"Rou'er."
Hearing his cautious voice, Lan Murou pushed him away and shut the door on him.
"Go back to your manor."
Tantai Ye understood her lingering resentment and dared not provoke her.
He stood outside the door, recalling past events, remaining silent.
They stood on opposite sides of the door, neither speaking.
Lan Murou touched her belly, remembering the scenes at the Jiangzhou dock. Her body softened, and she collapsed against the wall, hugging herself as warm tears streamed down her face.
If she hadn't been so determined to die back then, their child would probably be walking by now.
Thinking of the child she had personally killed sent a spasm of pain through her heart.
The cool moonlight fell upon the tranquil garden.
Tantai Ye, dressed in dark robes, stood tall and straight. The cool light cast shadows on his features, making his face appear even more indifferent.
The autumn night wind was chilling, yet he stood quietly outside the door, neither speaking nor moving.
The next day, the sun slowly rose from the eastern horizon. Sunlight streamed through the small casement window, illuminating the room. A warm glow fell upon a delicate, thin, and frail little face.
Lan Murou was awakened by the sunlight. She trembled, fluttering her eyelashes before opening her eyes.
Having slept on the floor all night, her limbs were stiff. She moved with difficulty before pulling herself up.
"Rou'er, are you awake?"
Suddenly, Tantai Ye's husky voice came from outside the door.
Lan Murou was slightly startled. She paused, then opened the door and looked up.
She saw him standing outside, looking weary, his eyes bloodshot, his robes stained with the dust of the journey, carrying an bone-chilling cold. It was evident he had stood outside all night.
Her heart ached slightly, her lips trembling, unable to speak.
Tantai Ye also remained silent, reaching out to pull her into his arms.
A chilling presence enveloped her. He pressed her waist, pulling her tightly into his embrace.
Lan Murou's eyes stung, the force of his grip making her bones ache.
She whispered softly, "Gently."
"Rou'er."
He called her name in a low, hoarse, choked voice.
Lan Murou's heart ached. She stood on tiptoe and hugged him.
"Tantai Ye, do you hate me?"
"It was my fault," his voice was suppressed, unable to hide his sorrow. "Rou'er, it was my fault."
Lan Murou's eyes reddened. She buried her head on his shoulder, speechless.
Her body was weak, and she had contracted an illness previously. After sitting on the floor all night, her mind began to feel heavy. Soon, her body became feverish, and she fainted in his arms.
Tantai Ye swept her up into his arms and ordered for an imperial physician.
The physician arrived quickly. After examining her pulse, he spoke.
"Madam is not seriously ill, just caught a chill. I will prescribe some medicine."
"Go quickly."
"Yes."
Tantai Ye had endured the cold wind all night, but having practiced martial arts since childhood and fought on battlefields for many years, his physical condition was much better than Lan Murou's.
He sat by the bedside, quietly gazing at her pale and thin face, his heart aching.
He had promised not to let her cry, and he had broken his word.
"Rou'er."
His cold, white, slender fingers traced her cheeks inch by inch, as gentle as if handling the most precious treasure in the world.
The warm sunlight streamed in from outside, illuminating their silhouettes. The surroundings were bathed in light.
"General."
At this moment, a maidservant brought the herbal soup from outside.
Tantai Ye took the medicine and fed it to her before holding her and falling asleep.
They slept for a long time.
It wasn't until dawn broke the next day that Lan Murou woke up, thirsty. She touched her forehead and found that the fever had subsided, sighing with relief.
She slowly moved his arm from her waist and wanted to get out of bed.
"Awake?"
Tantai Ye suddenly opened his eyes, startling her.
She clutched her chest, biting her lip.
"Why didn't you speak when you woke up?"
Seeing her rosy cheeks and teary eyes, Tantai Ye sat up and hugged her, kissing her.
"I'm thirsty."
He stroked her face, got out of bed, poured her hot tea, and then ordered someone to bring the medicinal soup.
Lan Murou felt much better and didn't want to drink the medicine.
"I'm fine, I don't need to drink it."
Tantai Ye returned from washing up, holding a towel to wipe her hands.
"No."
Lan Murou found the medicine bitter. With lowered eyebrows, she held the bowl, dawdling.
Tantai Ye directly took the bowl and held it to her lips.
Her pink lips touched the rim of the bowl, looking exceptionally delicate.
Tantai Ye's eyes darkened. Just as he was about to drink the medicine himself for her, Lan Murou, seeing his intent, quickly snatched the bowl and gulped it down.
It was so bitter that her lips trembled.
She puckered her little face, put down the bowl, and was about to get out of bed.
Suddenly, he lifted her by the waist and leaned down, his lips capturing hers.
He kissed her fiercely, holding her head, turning and pressing his kiss upon her.
Lan Murou's body was soft and yielding, held tightly by him, as if boneless, pressing close against him.
She did not resist, instead reaching up to circle his neck, responding to his kiss.
Tantai Ye's back stiffened. An ineffable tremor ran through his limbs, as if his very heart was quivering.
He unconsciously tightened his embrace, holding her tightly, his kisses growing more forceful.