Leaving the Changmen Palace

In the ensuing months, a serene tranquility settled over the palace.

The Jia family’s aspirations for official titles remained unfulfilled, and though their frustrations lingered, Liu Che’s unwavering promise before them reassured their hopes.

Meanwhile, Jia Ji appeared resolutely committed to governing the nation, her focus increasingly centered on her impending motherhood. With little desire to leave her secluded courtyard beyond Yongxiang Hall, she became notably meticulous about her nourishment, refusing any pastries not bestowed by the two imperial palaces.

The Jiaofang Hall and Changxin Hall delighted in witnessing her tender care for her unborn child.

In a gesture of reverence and hope, the empress dowager directed Princess of Pingyang to oversee grand prayers at multiple altars and temples on the outskirts of the capital, beseeching the ancestors’ blessing for Jia Ji’s safe delivery, with a particular desire for the child to be a son.

The demeanor of the grand princess was notably more reserved and restrained. She had now adopted a subtle, hands-off stance regarding Chen Jiao’s monthly cycle, understanding that pressing for details would only breed disappointment and cause Chen Jiao distress.

She chose to remain silent on the matter, patiently awaiting auspicious news to arrive. Naturally, her considerate approach ensured that her presence and concern were never forgotten.

As winter deepened, the City of Chang’an was enveloped in a biting cold. Two successive snowfalls transformed the landscape into a shimmering tableau of silver, an enchanting sight of unparalleled beauty. Despite their efforts to stay warm, the wooden structures, with their inevitable gaps, offered little protection.

Even within the confines of the Jiaofang Hall, Chen Jiao could feel the chill seeping into the soles of her feet, a recurring reminder of the season’s harshness.

During the reign of the late emperor, he delighted in indulging Liu Che, especially during this time of year when he would typically allow the crown prince to spend a few days at the foot of Mount Li.

Last winter, Liu Che was so immersed in implementing his new policies that he lacked the leisure to enjoy the soothing hot springs. Instead, it was Chen Jiao who accompanied the elders of both palaces, reveling in a brief respite of warmth.

However, this year marked a change in the emperor’s approach. Almost as soon as winter’s chill set in, he eagerly conferred with Chen Jiao, devising plans to stay at Mount Li for half a month, immersing themselves in the rejuvenating hot springs and the natural geothermal baths to their fullest delight.

Chen Jiao readily agreed, recognizing the wisdom of such a retreat.

The grand empress dowager, now advanced in age and sensitive to the cold, found this arrangement particularly appealing; she could spend the winter at Mount Li, benefiting from frequent hot spring baths that would help soothe ailments, all while savoring the breathtaking winter scenery of the surrounding mountains and forests.

This choice offered a far more comfortable and restorative experience than remaining in the Changshou Hall.

Initially, only a select few female relatives—such as the grand princess, the three princesses and their husbands—alongside Liu Che’s trusted attendants and the eunuchs responsible for court affairs, could be relied upon within the palace.

Soon, hundreds of individuals gathered, transforming Mount Li into a hub of bustling activity, its spaces becoming increasingly constrained.

Liu Che, demonstrating his practicality, chose to share a room with Chen Jiao, while the grand courtyard was allocated to the elders of the two palaces.

Jia Ji also established herself nearby in a modest courtyard; however, her demeanor remained unchanged. Upon arriving at Mount Li, she preferred to remain indoors, wary of the treacherous, icy roads during snowy days, fearing that a fall might jeopardize her pregnancy.

“I am merely awaiting the arrival of the child at this moment,” when she spoke to Chen Jiao, a faint blush crept onto her cheeks, yet she maintained a sincere and open demeanor.

“Since childhood, my family has endured hardship and lacked land. It wasn’t until I entered the palace that I was fortunate enough to be cared for by Your Majesty, ensuring I had enough to eat and wear—no longer fearing the last meal or the uncertainty of the next. If I am blessed with a son, and he can be raised under Your Majesty’s protection, it would bring completeness to the nation and grant my family lasting security. Should my younger brother prove capable and contribute meaningfully, I would have no further demands for the rest of her days.”

Chu Fu couldn’t help but smile softly next to Chen Jiao.

Ultimately, she hailed from a humble background, and once she became pregnant, she began to see herself as a noble lady. Her requests extended beyond merely asking Chen Jiao to adopt the child; she also sought to secure an official position for her younger brother.

What drove her urgency? If the child could be raised properly—and if he was indeed a prince—prestige and official appointments would naturally follow. Should fate decree otherwise, there was little that could be done.

Chen Jiao, however, did not interpret her actions in the same light.

While Jia Ji had her own motives, they were rooted in human nature. Lacking favor from the emperor and fearing she might have no other children, she was wise enough to take the initiative in expressing her wishes. If the child was a prince, she was prepared to personally see him placed in the Jiaofang Hall.

This clarity amidst her confusion marked her rare moment of lucidity. Given her modest origins, her ability to recognize and act upon this truth was enough to carve out her place within the harem.

“The baby is over eight months old, right?” Chen Jiao asked with slight regret. “I should have left you in Chang’an. The medicine here isn’t complete yet. If you give birth, I’m afraid you won’t be able to take care of yourself.”

When she told Liu Che about this, he too thought it was the right thing to do.

“What is a woman about to give birth doing hanging around with us? She can’t soak in the hot springs, so what good is being here for her, other than being a little warmer? We should send her back quickly.”

He then assigned a team of imperial guards to escort Jia Ji back to Weiyang Palace and instructed Chun Tuo to return there and take care of her, “When she goes into labor, come to me and arrange for a physician to treat her. In short, I’ll leave everything to you, before and after.”

Even though he didn’t appreciate Jia Ji, this was still their first child. When he spoke, he looked at Chun Tuo with his eyes and rarely spoke in a harsh tone, with the emperor’s majesty.

Chun Tuo was once again overcome with a cold sweat, and in a subdued voice, he assured, “Your Majesty, please rest assured.”

Chen Jiao also gave him careful instructions, “There are still some palace servants in Yongxiang Hall who are not yet suitable to accompany her. You must remain vigilant against those who may harbor jealousy and seek to cause trouble. If any palace servants, relying on His Majesty’s favor, refuse to obey discipline, I will send Chu Fu back with you. She retains a certain influence among the palace servants and can be of assistance.”

After dispatching Chun Tuo and Chu Fu, Liu Che looked at Chen Jiao with a smile that carried no warmth and inquired softly, “Jiaojiao, do you not feel a hint of jealousy at all?”

This was a question he would never have posed before.

As long as Chen Jiao kept her emotions concealed, he would refrain from probing too deeply, wary of provoking her jealousy. Yet now, he found himself increasingly curious.

Historically, women tended to be narrow-minded, only becoming broad-minded and peaceful after losing favor. During their time in favor, they would eagerly seek to hold onto all the privileges they could.

Chen Jiao, however, was different. When she enjoyed favor, she advised him to distribute it fairly, for the sake of their descendants. With Jia Ji soon to welcome her own child into the world, her concern grew even more profound than if she were expecting herself.

Could it be that she harbored no envy or resentment in her heart? If she were overly jealous, he would naturally find it difficult to bear, but since she exhibited no jealousy at all, he found himself increasingly troubled and uneasy. /TN: Then think of abandoning her in the Golden Palace ‘cause she’s no longer magnanimous and virtuous? Brother, you piss me off. You need a therapist, and maybe even a psychiatrist./

He used to be able to set aside these feelings, enjoying Chen Jiao’s generosity and the ease it brought him. But that was no longer the case.

He subtly hoped she might feel some jealousy, so he could affectionately and helplessly call her “Silly Jiaojiao,” using his love to soothe her mind and reassure her.

Actually, it’s not that he doesn’t understand. Jealousy is simply the result of caring. It’s only when you care that you’re afraid of losing… If she’s truly not jealous at all, perhaps it simply shows that Chen Jiao is completely indifferent to him.

As soon as Liu Che’s eyes dimmed, she glared at him.

She rarely showed willfulness, but she was surprisingly skilled at it. If a noblewoman from a high-ranking family truly wanted to show off, it would be easy.

“Why would I be jealous?” Chen Jiao said. “The child she gave birth to is my child too. If it’s a boy, he will naturally be brought to Jiaofang Hall. If it’s a girl, she will become our eldest daughter. Do you think you’re the only one who can love her, and I’m not allowed to?”

The matter of adoption was mentioned lightly, as if her words had already made things a natural thing.

Liu Che could no longer hold back, and bent down to hug her, laughing, “You, you, you, Jiaojiao!”

Just as he was about to take off Chen Jiao’s clothes to tease her, she broke free, “It’s almost time for dinner, and we have to go to grandmother. It’s too late for you to take off my clothes now!”

He was still unwilling, “Then don’t take them off—it hurts!” But Chen Jiao grabbed the soft flesh around his waist and twisted it hard.

The young couple talked and laughed, then went out to enjoy the snow, preparing to pay a visit to the empress dowager again.

Liu Che walked a few steps between the palaces, looked at the slightly white Mount Li, and said to her, “Last summer, Han Yan hunted a fox here! Next spring, I will bring you here to enjoy the spring again.”

“Can I accompany you on your hunt?” Chen Jiao’s words drifted from a playful tune, her eyes and brows alight with mirth, revealing a rare and charming spontaneity. “There’s only Han Yan and Li Danghu… When will you find the opportunity to discuss me with them?” she teased.

“If you’re willing to endure the stings of poisonous insects and the heavy, sweat-soaked garments, I shall gladly let you join!” Liu Che chuckled warmly.

Just as he was about to speak again, Chen Jiao’s gaze suddenly shifted ahead. Her eyes settled on a distant pine wall, partially veiling the figures of the emperor and empress yet failing to conceal their presence from keen eyes.

He followed her gaze and paused in silence.

There, he observed the grand princess walking arm in arm with a striking young man, whispering to each other with evident closeness. It was unmistakable that their bond was intimate, and the scene conveyed a delicate hint of their concealed affection.

The health of Marquess of Tangyi has not been good. In Liu Che’s memory, his uncle has been recuperating in a quiet room. This time, he went to Mount Li with great difficulty, precisely because he saw the therapeutic effect of the hot springs.

However, the grand princess relied on her noble status and insisted on living in a separate courtyard from Marquess of Tangyi, and occupied a small courtyard for herself.

At that time, he did not think much about it, and just thought that his aunt was pretending. He did not expect that there was a beauty hidden in that courtyard, who would speak sweet words to her when she was free.

These naturally had nothing to do with Liu Che, because the grand princess was his relative after all.

He looked at Chen Jiao with concern and whispered, “Shall we go back?”

She remained motionless, her gaze fixed intently upon her mother as if rooted in place.

In her youth, the grand princess must have been a radiant beauty, and even after all these years, her charm persisted, preserved through meticulous care. Yet, the lines etched by time subtly traced the corners of her eyes and brows.

Standing beside a youthful, vibrant man, the scene could be mistaken for mother and son—an image of tranquility. But if viewed through a different lens, as lovers, it might evoke a sense of dissonance.

To Chen Jiao, this moment stirred a delicate ripple within her heart.

She silently mused, “This is Dong Yan,” recalling his name from a previous life—a name she had long known.

After a moment of reflection, she released a gentle, lingering sigh, as if finally finding solace in the realization.

She acknowledged with tranquil grace, “Indeed, he is truly a beauty. When it comes to beauty, he surpasses even Han Yan.”

An unexpected, cool smile flickered across her face. Her gaze lingered thoughtfully on the old and young lovers nestled behind the tree before she gracefully turned away, took Liu Che’s hand, and led him to depart.

Approximately ten days later, word arrived from the capital that Jia Ji had gone into labor and had safely brought a son into the world.