Chapter 4: Second Wear

“Let me warn you, anyone who dares to spill a word about this will pay with their miserable lives!”

“Hmph!”

Before Wei Tingchun could even open her eyes after transmigrating, she heard a shrill, deliberately affected voice struggling to suppress its sharpness as it issued warnings above her head.

She remained motionless, only slowly opening her eyes to discover she was kneeling. From her peripheral vision, she could tell many others were kneeling around her, but before she could turn to see who they were, she looked down at herself and froze.

Good heavens—she saw her enormous belly protruding like a watermelon beneath her long gown! Her heart immediately sank.

This… this was too much! Could she really have transmigrated into a pregnant woman?

This belly looked nine and a half months along—just one step away from labor!

Dear heavens, don’t joke around—she was still a single woman who’d never even been in a relationship! Was she seriously expected to give birth right off the bat?!

Wei Tingchun stayed silent, but her mind was reeling. She reached out to touch her belly—it was firm, definitely not fat—and her heart turned completely cold.

Over the years, she had transmigrated into all sorts of worlds and thought she could face any situation with composure. As usual, she hadn’t even bothered to check the script right away.

Who knew she’d run into something like this?

If she’d known, she would’ve asked Lang Jie to pick a world for her—what kind of mess was this?!

Wei Tingchun was torn between laughter and tears, not daring to move recklessly. After the eunuch’s warning, she watched as his indigo robe swished past before he exited the room.

Once he was gone, the people kneeling beside her hurried to help her up. Meanwhile, countless possibilities flashed through her mind.

From that brief glimpse of the departing figure, her sharp eyes had already identified him as a eunuch—meaning she was currently in the imperial palace.

So… was the child in her belly the Dragon Seed?

Wei Tingchun couldn’t muster any optimism. Even if it was the Dragon Seed, a concubine who knelt before eunuchs and endured their scolding must be living a wretched life…

In that split second, drawing from the endless stream of dramatic tropes she’d encountered across transmigration worlds, Wei Tingchun rapidly pieced together multiple versions of palace intrigue.

Including, but not limited to: the child not being the emperor’s, a tragic love story where she was banished to the Cold Palace while pregnant, or the surroundings being so terrible that—!

Then, her kaleidoscope-like imagination came to an abrupt halt when she heard how the person helping her up addressed her.

“Matron, what should we do about this?”

“Yes, Matron, this concerns the imperial heir. If we don’t report it and something serious happens, won’t we be dragged into the Criminals Tribunal?”

Upon hearing herself being called “Matron,” Wei Tingchun instinctively touched her belly again.

Good heavens.

She thought to herself—how could a woman pregnant with the Dragon Seed kneel to a eunuch? The emperor of this world must be utterly depraved to even target a matron!

Wei Tingchun lowered her hand from her belly and glanced back at the group of people in the room, all waiting for her decision.

They were all young maids, but their clothes were worn, their complexions sallow, their spirits wilted, and their expressions fearful. The two closest to her even had frayed sleeves.

Where did this bunch of skinny twigs come from?

The situation might be even worse than she’d imagined.

She needed to check the script—fast.

Therefore, Wei Tingchun raised her hand and pressed her forehead, then said, “Let me think about it.”

“You all go ahead and leave. I have a headache.”

“Is Madam’s migraine acting up again?” A particularly sallow and emaciated little girl stepped forward, supporting Wei Tingchun’s head as she said, “Ever since Chunxi Gonggong took charge of the inner palace affairs, he’s been treating our place worse and worse.”

Wei Tingchun’s hand, which had been massaging her forehead, paused. For some reason, the name sounded vaguely familiar?

But she didn’t pay it much mind. After all, in the many ancient worlds she had transmigrated into over the years—no less than eighty, if not a hundred—there were plenty of names with “Xi” in them.

Seeing her pause, the little maid thought she was listening to her complaints and grew even more enthusiastic.

“He even skimps on Madam’s prescribed medicine, substituting inferior goods! He must still hold a grudge for how Madam treated him poorly in the past. Who knew he’d nurse such a petty grudge for so many years? He’s deliberately trying to worsen Madam’s illness!”

The little maid was so thin she was practically skin and bones, but she certainly had no shortage of energy when it came to cursing.

Wei Tingchun pressed down on her hand and waved dismissively at the people in the room. “All of you, leave first. I need to rest.”

The little maid was taken aback. In the past, whenever she cursed Chunxi Gonggong, Madam would always be delighted and join in. Why was today different…? Could it be because of that matter with the princes?

“But it’s almost time for the meal…” the little maid said.

Wei Tingchun was quite the food enthusiast. She believed that food was the paramount necessity of the people—without it, one would die—so she had always been very proactive about eating and had no particular dislikes when it came to food.

But right now, she urgently needed to review the plot. Moreover, as she glanced around, she noticed how shockingly dilapidated the surroundings were. The room was so poorly maintained it resembled one of those haunted houses from horror movies.

What kind of decent meal could they possibly serve here?

Forget it!

Wei Tingchun finally managed to shoo everyone out and headed straight for the inner chamber. Finding a bed, she lay down immediately and opened the system panel.

The system could be displayed either in her mind or as a floating screen outside.

However, whether displayed mentally or externally, no one else could see it except her.

Wei Tingchun pressed her finger against the panel and quickly opened the phase plot.

—The Great Qian Dynasty.

Wei Tingchun paused when she noticed a star symbol floating next to “Great Qian Dynasty,” and it was lit up.

This kind of star symbol, when illuminated, indicated that she had transmigrated into this world before. One star, one time.

Repeating worlds were nothing new for Wei Tingchun.

She continued scrolling down and gradually came across more and more familiar names.

Finally, at the end, Wei Tingchun saw that in this world, she had died at the hands of a man named Chen Yan.

This person was the Commander-in-Chief of the Imperial Guards.

Wei Tingchun dredged up long-buried memories, which finally settled on the image of a man with thick eyebrows, large eyes, and a bushy beard.

“What a cursed fate.”

Wei Tingchun realized this world wasn’t particularly difficult either. As per international conventions, cannon fodder characters were usually the bad guys—something she was familiar with.

Wasn’t it just about being a two-faced snitch, ultimately causing a major incident for a prince, then failing to cover it up and attempting to flee the palace, only to be shot dead by an Imperial Guard arrow?

Practically zero difficulty.

But what left Wei Tingchun feeling emotionally conflicted was that the prince who would suffer this time, the one destined for disaster, was… the Eleventh Prince.

Wei Tingchun sighed.

She recalled a very distant memory—the incident of “seeing the cat’s stripes and touching the cat”—which had left an especially deep impression on her regarding this Eleventh Prince.

She remembered his little face, pale from the cold, and his body icy all over. She remembered him lapping up the ginseng tea like a puppy, and she also remembered… the tiny vermilion mole between his brows.

Wei Tingchun’s original body also had a small mole on her forehead. Back then, it had made her pause, and it was partly why the Eleventh Prince had left such a vivid mark in her memory.

This child truly had a fate full of hardships.

This time, she had come to persecute him.

Yet, Wei Tingchun felt inexplicably happy. After all these years, the child was still alive, and there were still cannon-fodder roles being generated to torment him. It meant he wasn’t the kind of cannon fodder who would die silently.

Since Wei Tingchun was merely a short-lived cannon-fodder character, the plot she received for this world was fragmented.

She only knew bits and pieces, but based on her years of transmigration experience, she could deduce some things.

A character like the Eleventh Prince, with his beauty, strength, and tragic backstory—he had to be at least a minor boss!

Novels loved writing about how the villains suffered humiliation and persecution in their youth, only to grow up psychologically twisted.

It meant that even if she died, the Eleventh Prince would still survive.

Wei Tingchun smiled—not for any particular reason, but simply because she had reunited with the “stray cat she had once kindly fed,” and the little fellow was still doing alright.

She was someone easily satisfied and quick to find joy.

But as she smiled, Wei Tingchun suddenly felt an uncomfortable heaviness in her belly, and her smile faded.

She didn’t bother checking the plot further. Instead, she hurriedly got up, found a somewhat blurry bronze mirror, and bent over with her freshly acquired large belly to take a look.

The face in the mirror appeared to be in her forties or fifties. Though her features were still neat, hinting at a once-pretty appearance, her temples were now streaked with gray, and her face was gaunt—far from any semblance of beauty.

Wei Tingchun was relieved. No matter how depraved the emperor was, he would never take a fancy to her aged face.

The child in her belly definitely wasn’t the Dragon Seed!

Her character’s background wasn’t detailed either—since she died quickly, the description was limited to “fat and foolish.”

But Wei Tingchun had just felt her belly—it was hard. She wasn’t just fat; there was definitely something inside!

So now the question was: Who was the father of her child?

As a former confidante of Consort Qing, now demoted to the Criminals Tribunal and the sole matron in the Cold Palace—just who had she, with such audacity, secretly entangled with?

Wei Tingchun sat on the bed, cradling her belly in thought.

She searched the plot a few more times but found no clues.

In the palace, illicit affairs between maids and outsiders were a grave crime that implicated entire families. For an old, faded matron like her to be this heavily pregnant—it was surely an even greater offense!

Wei Tingchun habitually reached up to rub her forehead, but her plump fingers met empty space. This wasn’t her original body but one generated by the system—she didn’t have that little mole here.

She decided not to dwell on it. If she died early, she wouldn’t have to worry about childbirth.

So Wei Tingchun resolved to first visit the main character of her mission this time.

That one from… well.

She glanced at the system time—the flow of time was the same across all worlds.

She hadn’t seen that little ice block for ten years now.

A full decade.

Wei Tingchun looked at the lunar calendar date beneath the month in her system space – the third day of the third month.

Today… was her birthday.

She needed to check if there were any noodles in the meal they’d left!

But Wei Tingchun was disappointed. Forget noodles, even the meager rice porridge was watery enough to see the bottom, and the vegetable leaves looked less appetizing than roadside weeds.

In the dead of winter, the food still had ice crystals in it!

No wonder everyone in this Cold Palace looked sallow and emaciated – standing together, they resembled a bunch of bamboo sticks with balloons tied to them.

The young maid who had been attentive to Wei Tingchun earlier stood up, uncovered an upside-down bowl, and presented it to her.

“Madam, we saved this for you! Eat quickly!”

Wei Tingchun glanced down to see several relatively large wilted vegetable leaves and a bowl of porridge – likely scooped from the watery gruel on the table to make this “full” bowl of rice.

Ah, so these bamboo sticks were her doing.

Just as Wei Tingchun was about to say she wouldn’t eat, she caught an unexpected whiff and immediately felt nauseous. The food smelled rancid even in this cold weather – truly soul-crushingly awful.

Wei Tingchun instinctively gagged, then waved her hands frantically while covering her mouth. It took effort to suppress the nausea.

Alarm bells rang in her mind – why were pregnancy symptoms still this strong in the third trimester? Finding the baby’s father was becoming urgent!

Waving at the nervous group who had stood up, she said, “You eat it. I’ve lost my appetite.”

“By the way… which courtyard is that person in? I should go check.”

The maid holding the food and others looked confused, seemingly unable to understand why the madam – who had personally delivered someone to Chan Enlightenment Hall, saying it was the most ruined and coldest place, and had fawned over several princes while swearing to “entertain” the guest properly – would suddenly ask about them now.

Seeing their reactions, Wei Tingchun realized her slip but kept a straight face, considering how to backtrack.

Remembering the personal maid mentioned in the plot, she called out, “Cuiyun, you tell me!”

The food-holding maid trembled, nearly dropping her bowl.

She quickly set it down and knelt with a thud. “At Chan Wu Courtyard!”

Though Wei Tingchun had extracted information not written in the plot, she maintained her stern expression, scanning the fearful and confused faces around her.

She said sharply, “Nonsense! There’s no such thing!”

“That person isn’t here with us. You must all remember – no matter who asks, you know nothing!”

Wei Tingchun continued, “You spineless fools only know how to eat plain rice without growing any brains!”

The group suddenly understood – the madam had been testing them.

They immediately set down their bowls and knelt, begging for mercy.

Having successfully deceived them, Wei Tingchun looked at the maid who had responded to “Cuiyun” and said, “Cuiyun, get up. Come with me to Chan Wu Courtyard.”

Cuiyun hurriedly complied and followed Wei Tingchun out.

Glancing back at the group of trembling bamboo sticks in the courtyard, Wei Tingchun decided not to frighten them further. “All of you, get up and eat. Divide the food equally – how can you survive on just rice water?”

“Save a portion for Cuiyun.”

The group first froze in surprise, then exchanged bewildered looks.

Normally, the matron would begrudge them even a single grain of rice. Could it be that the sun rose from the west today?

Or… after the incident, the matron was preparing to make them take the blame!

Those princes were not people they could afford to offend…

Everyone grew even more fearful, not daring to eat, sitting around the table in gloom and despair.

Meanwhile, Wei Tingchun deliberately lagged behind, supporting her watermelon-sized belly as she followed the guide Cuiyun towards Chan Wu Courtyard.

Along the way, Wei Tingchun kept touching her belly—it was firm, very similar to how her mother’s belly had felt when pregnant with her younger brother, distinctly different from fat.

But why didn’t it move no matter how much she prodded it?

Could it be a stillbirth?

Lost in these wild thoughts, they arrived at Chan Wu Courtyard.