Chapter 339: I… I’m Going to Give Birth

“You’re about to go into labor. It’s not convenient for you to return to our hometown. If we’re to inform our ancestors, Father can go in my place and offer incense,” Gu Huaizhi said as he brushed away the peach blossom petals tangled in her hair.

Her fair cheeks were flushed from the sun, and her delicate features were soft and gentle, as if soaked in water. She lay curled on the recliner, petite and slender—throughout her entire pregnancy, all she had gained was the roundness of her belly. “Do your legs cramp during the day?” he asked.

“These past few days, a little,” Su Wan replied. “Right at the top of my thighs. It doesn’t hurt if I lie still, but walking for a bit makes it cramp painfully.”

She picked up a tiny sun-warmed garment lying nearby and draped it over her belly. Lowering her eyes, she looked at the small red garment, barely larger than a palm. “Do you think it’s a boy or a girl?”

In the sunlight, a layer of warmth glowed in his usually cool eyes. A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “A girl.”

“So mischievous, it might be a boy,” Su Wan said as she played with his fingers. “Have you thought of a name yet?”

“Lingxi?”

“As in ‘Though we lack wings like colorful phoenixes, our hearts are linked with perfect understanding’—that Lingxi?” Su Wan chuckled. “It means mutual understanding between hearts. So cliché.”

“Why not the Lingxi from ‘If only all could be as one wishes, two hearts aligned, then it would prove that a single thread of connection truly links us like the god of the sea’? It means clever and perceptive,” Gu Huaizhi replied, glancing sideways at her with a warm tone. “What is considered vulgar can also be elegant.”

“You couldn’t be more tacky if you tried. Just call her Gu Jiaojiao,” Su Wan scoffed.

“We can use Jiaojiao as her nickname.”

“Get out of here!” Su Wan couldn’t take it and kicked him straightaway.

“Gently now, don’t hurt yourself,” Gu Huaizhi said, not dodging her kick. He caught her foot and, with a serious look, said, “Gu Huayao.”

“Huayao…” Su Wan repeated the name softly, tasting it, then curved her lips into a smile. “That’s a good name.”

Her interest piqued, she asked, “What about a name for a boy?”

Gu Huaizhi fell silent.

Su Wan’s smile instantly faded. “You didn’t come up with one?”

Gu Huaizhi really hadn’t.

Su Wan collapsed back onto the recliner, rubbing her belly with genuine worry. She was seriously concerned that if the baby turned out to be a boy, he’d end up resented by his own father.

Gu Huaizhi tried to salvage his image as a loving father. “Director Liu said it’s a girl.”

Su Wan rolled her eyes so hard it was a full punctuation mark of disbelief—she didn’t believe a single word of his.

“Mother said that back in the first three months, you were already secretly stashing away pearl hairpins, pretty headbands, tiny beaded bracelets, and decorative necklaces. Even the cloth you bought was all bright colors—pink, soft yellow. Could you even know the baby’s gender at that time?”

“And pulse reading isn’t reliable! That’s not a valid method either!” Su Wan accused, pointing at him. “Boy or girl, they’re both your children. You can’t be that biased.”

“Uh…” Gu Huaizhi rubbed his nose awkwardly. “If it’s a boy, of course I’ll love him too. He can make do with the clothes we have. I just haven’t named him yet because it’s something important—I have to be extra cautious and thoughtful about it.”

He fell silent for a moment, then said faintly, “Let’s call him Gu Shenzhi.”

So serious-sounding!

Su Wan couldn’t even be bothered to respond.

——

Each day, aside from attending morning court, Gu Huaizhi would return home to stay by Su Wan’s side. As the expected delivery date drew near, everyone in the residence remained on high alert. The two midwives and two female physicians they had hired had long since taken up residence in the Gu household.

But even after the due date passed, Su Wan still showed no signs of going into labor. What came instead was the day of the Grand Proclamation Ceremony.

Before the fourth watch of the night, Gu Huaizhi arrived outside Donghua Gate. All the successful examinees were dressed in official robes and wore the three-tassel, nine-leaf court caps, waiting for the gates to open.

As the morning court bell rang, the ink-dark sky seemed to split open, and a piercing white light seeped through the crack, illuminating the still-slumbering Forbidden Palace^[1]Forbidden Palace: A literary term referring to the inner sanctum of the imperial palace, more formally known as the Forbidden City (紫禁城, Zijin Cheng), located in Beijing. It served as the … Continue reading.

He looked up at the palace bathed in golden light, majestic and towering like a great dragon circling overhead.

This was the place that countless scholars who had studied tirelessly by candlelight dreamed of reaching. He could no longer recall the emotions he felt the first time he stepped past the palace walls and stood in the Taihe Hall during morning court—perhaps it was much like theirs now, hearts pounding, blood surging with excitement.

Donghua Gate slowly opened. Gu Huaizhi lowered his gaze and entered in orderly procession with the officials, heading toward the Taihe Hall.

All the tribute scholars entered the hall alongside the princes and high ministers, standing in rows to the left and right, solemnly awaiting the reading of the names and rankings of those who had passed the imperial examination.

An official from the Ministry of Rites and the Office of Ceremonial Proclamations placed a yellow desk at the eastern side inside the Taihe Hall. A Grand Academician of the Inner Cabinet carried the Golden List and placed it atop the yellow desk.

Once everything was properly arranged, a request was submitted at Qinzheng Hall, asking the Emperor to don ceremonial robes and ascend the throne in the Taihe Hall.

After the princes, high ministers, and tribute scholars completed the formal three kneels and nine kowtows, the official from the Office of Ceremonial Proclamations began to read the Imperial Edict:

“On the fifth day of the third month in the xinchou year^[2]Xinchou year (辛丑年): A designation in the traditional Chinese sexagenary (60-year) cycle, combining the stem xīn (8th heavenly stem) and branch chǒu (2nd earthly branch, representing the Ox). … Continue reading, the imperial examination was held for scholars from across the realm. Those ranked in the first tier are conferred the title of jinshi with honors. Those in the second tier are conferred the title of jinshi by attainment. Those in the third tier are conferred the title of tong jinshi by attainment.”

Next came the name announcements.

All the tribute scholars held their breath. Their hearts pounded furiously, thump thump thump, as their eyes inevitably drifted toward Gu Huaizhi. Aside from the ten who had already received a private audience, the rest unanimously suspected corruption in this special examination. There was no doubt in their minds that Gu Huaizhi’s name would appear among the top three ranks.

Wang Xueqin, however, was full of anxiety. If Gu Huaizhi failed to secure a place in the top three despite his connections, he might become a laughingstock.

But Gu Huaizhi remained completely calm. Rankings didn’t matter to him—so long as he earned the jinshi title, that was enough.

Grand Chancellor Xu Hui, frail and burdened by illness, stepped forward carrying the Golden List and solemnly called out the names:

“First tier, first place—Gu Huaizhi.”

As expected, yet the crowd still felt a complicated mix of emotions.

But then some quickly thought—so what if he became the top scholar?

He would still have to slowly build his seniority like the rest of them. To reach a high position, it would take at least three years, maybe even ten.

Without genuine talent and skill, even with an unshakable golden connection, others in court weren’t mere bystanders. They would never allow Gu Huaizhi to rise too quickly.

The expressions of the civil and military officials turned subtly complex. The court already had one insider, someone the Regent had pushed into the Inner Cabinet. Now, another “connected” individual had entered through the imperial exam. How did the young Emperor intend to use this one?

Gu Huaizhi, calm and composed, stepped forward under the guidance of the ceremonial officer and knelt to the left side of the imperial path.

Xu Hui continued to call out names: “First tier, second place—Wang Xueqin.”

Wang Xueqin stepped out with excitement, kneeling on the right side of the imperial path.

The top three names were announced three times, while the names from the second and third tiers were each read once, without requiring those scholars to step forward.

Once the name announcements were complete, music began to play within the hall—The Song of Peace and Celebration. Gu Huaizhi led the newly appointed jinshi in offering thanks for the imperial grace.

The Emperor directly appointed the zhuangyuan (top scholar) as xiuzhuan, while the bangyan (second place) and tanhua (third place) were appointed as bianxiu. He also granted special permission for them to exit through the Meridian Gate and proceed to the outside of Chang’an’s Left Gate to view the Golden List being displayed.

Jingyun wished to offer congratulations to his elder brother, but now was not the time. He followed the palace attendants back to Qinzheng Hall.

Gu Huaizhi changed into the zhuangyuan’s ceremonial robe and joined bangyan Wang Xueqin and tanhua Zhou Lang. The Minister of Rites carried the Golden List, placed atop a cloud-shaped tray, and together they departed through the Taihe Gate, the Meridian Gate, and finally arrived at Chang’an Gate to post the list.

By this time, the sun had risen high in the sky. Crowds of commoners lined both sides of the street, all eager to catch a glimpse of the top scholar’s bearing.

Su Wan, thinking constantly about whether Gu Huaizhi had secured the top spot, had made early arrangements just in case. She had reserved a private room in a teahouse overlooking Chang’an Street to avoid being jostled in the crowd.

“They’re here! They’re here! The top scholar is here!”

“He’s so young! Like a fine orchid and noble jade, with the elegance of a dragon and the poise of the wind—he truly lives up to the title of zhuangyuan!”

The street roared with voices, and Su Wan clearly heard the crowd showering the zhuangyuan with praise. She leaned against the window, peering out.

There, she saw Gu Huaizhi wearing a black gauze hat adorned with golden blossoms, dressed in a bright red robe, riding a red-maned horse with golden saddle. Surrounded by attendants, his presence was commanding. The horse’s hooves trod gently over fallen apricot blossoms scattered on the street as he slowly approached in her direction.

Su Wan’s breath caught in her throat.

As if sensing something, his calm gaze swept over the crowd and met hers directly.

Su Wan suddenly ducked down, clutching her belly. “Mother—my water just… my water just broke. I’m going into labor!”