Chapter 157

A Sen was a magnanimous child. Before Fu Tingjun could even offer words of comfort, Jin Yuanbao had already defended him with a few remarks, and his anger dissipated, replaced by laughter and chatter once more. When he heard that his room was to be vacated for Yang Yucheng and Jin Yuanbao, he readily agreed: "...This way we can live together again." He practically bounced with excitement, eager to tidy up the room for them.

Jin Yuanbao quickly stopped A Sen and said to Fu Tingjun, "The garrison has quarters for us. Besides, one of us is stationed in Tongzhou and the other in Daxing—it takes two days to travel back and forth, yet we only get one day of rest every ten days... The reason we came this time is, first, to pay our respects to Ninth Master and you, and second, to help deliver the belongings." The implication was clear—they would not be staying long, nor would they visit frequently in the future, so there was no need for her to go to any trouble.

"This was also Ninth Master's intention." Fu Tingjun thought of Zhao Ling's words and smiled. "It was Ninth Master who transferred you both to the capital. He should know your situation best. If he gave such instructions, there must be a need for it. Don't decline—since you've called me 'Sister-in-law,' treat this place as your own home."

Yuwei, hearing this, cheerfully called out to Zhenzhu and Kou'er to help prepare the rooms.

Only then did Yang Yucheng and Jin Yuanbao stop protesting and go along to help with the arrangements.

In less than half an hour, A Sen's belongings had been moved to the western wing, Fu Tingjun's things from Zhangye had been stored away, and several beds had been brought from the rear rooms to the southern wing. Yang Yucheng and Jin Yuanbao took the room on the eastern side, while Sanfu, Shizhu, and Anxin took the one on the western side. Zheng Sanniang bustled about drawing hot water for them to wash up, and just then, the food from Donglaishun arrived.

A Sen accompanied Yang Yucheng, Jin Yuanbao, and the others through their meal, and as they sorted through their clothes, they chatted about everything that had happened to them in recent days.

That evening, when Zhao Ling returned, there was another lively gathering.

Back in their room, Fu Tingjun stared at him wide-eyed. "What exactly is going on?"

Zhao Ling had drunk a fair amount and chuckled. "I wanted to surprise you... I didn't expect them to arrive early." Then, emboldened by the alcohol, he wrapped his arms around Fu Tingjun and kissed her.

The smell of liquor on his breath made Fu Tingjun uncomfortable. She turned her face away, a hint of distress showing on her features.

Zhao Ling quickly asked, "What's wrong?" His tone carried a note of panic.

"I can't stand the smell of the wine," Fu Tingjun said. "Let me brew you a cup of strong tea."

"I'll do it." Zhao Ling helped her to a seat nearby. "You've had a long day—rest for a bit." He then brewed himself a cup of strong tea, drank it, and even chewed on the tea leaves before approaching Fu Tingjun again. Only then did she feel better and asked him, "You mentioned that Mo Yi and the others might come to visit on the ninth—has that been decided?"

"It's settled." Zhao Ling, recalling that a couple of drops of wine might have splashed onto his clothes when Yang Yucheng had toasted him earlier, began removing his outer robe as he spoke with Fu Tingjun. "On the ninth, His Majesty will ascend Mount Yuming, and the Imperial Guard must accompany him. We've agreed to gather here on the tenth instead."

"How many people?"

"Seven or eight, roughly."

"Then we need to prepare in advance." Fu Tingjun mused. "We only have ten jars of Jinhua wine at home, which might not be enough. Chicken, duck, fish, and meat are easy enough to come by, but things like crab and yellow croaker need to be ordered ahead of time..."

"Isn't there still a few days?" Zhao Ling laughed, draping an arm around Fu Tingjun's shoulder and guiding her toward the inner chamber. "Besides, aren't Yang Yucheng and Jin Yuanbao still here? They won't report to the garrison until late September. While they're still free these few days, give them whatever tasks need doing—delegate as you see fit. After all, you're their sister-in-law!"

Fu Tingjun felt a bit embarrassed but sat down beside Zhao Ling on the edge of the bed.

He crouched down to help her take off her shoes. "Get some rest! Tomorrow you'll need to convert the two studies in the southern wing, arrange for someone to buy those stone tables and chairs, and send someone to accompany them to pick out some new clothes..." He added, "When we parted ways back then, everyone received their share of silver, so you don't need to worry about the accounts."

Fu Tingjun was caught between laughter and tears. "Since I'm the one sending someone to accompany them to buy clothes, naturally we should be the ones footing the bill."

The two chatted about household matters for a good while before finally settling down for the night.

The next day, before dawn, Zhao Ling left for the palace, and Fu Tingjun stayed home handling these mundane affairs. By the tenth, not only familiar faces like Mo Yi, Tao Mu, and Lin Chi had arrived, but also several officers from the Imperial Guard and the Embroidered Uniform Guard whom she didn't recognize—enough to fill two full tables. They even called in singers to perform, and the feasting continued until the curfew hour, when the gathering finally dispersed because several of them had to report for duty at the palace early the next morning.

She then helped Yang Yucheng, Jin Yuanbao, and the others outfit themselves properly and saw them off to their posts.

When she finally returned home, Fu Tingjun felt utterly exhausted. She lay down and had no desire to get up.

Zhao Ling touched her forehead and hastily instructed Yuwei to summon a physician to the residence.

Fu Tingjun grasped Zhao Ling's hand. "I just feel a bit listless, but I don't have a fever. Ninth Master, don't be so anxious—you're making me nervous too."

Zhao Ling didn't want his wife to feel distressed. He smiled in agreement and promised, "If you're still like this tomorrow, be sure to tell me. We'll go see a physician no matter what." Yet inwardly he resolved that once he returned to the Imperial Guard, he would ask the old Beijing hands where the finest pharmacy was and who the best resident physician was.

Fu Tingjun nodded.

When she woke the next day, her body still felt somewhat weak.

"I haven't done anything—why is this happening?" she murmured to herself. After seeing Zhao Ling off, she instructed Yuwei to summon a physician. "There's no pain or itch, but I just feel unwell."

"It's good to have a physician take a look," Yuwei said with a smile, and went to fetch a doctor to examine her.

When the physician saw the tidy courtyard, the lush flowers and trees, the young attendant accompanying him through the outer compound, and the young maidservant with unbound hair leading him through the main courtyard—all bearing the air of a distinguished household—he immediately set aside any hint of negligence. With eyes downcast and composure proper, he entered the inner chamber.

Crimson bed curtains hung lightly, and a hand extended from beneath them, draped with a lake-green Hangzhou silk handkerchief, revealing a small stretch of wrist as fair as frost and snow.

The physician dared not look too long. He sat on the embroidered stool beside the bed and took her pulse.

He examined the left wrist, then the right, then the left again, and after a long while said, "Do you have any elders in the household?"

Fu Tingjun's heart trembled at the question. "Physician, please speak frankly. There are only the two of us—my husband and myself."

Hearing this, the physician pondered for a moment and said, "Madam has no serious ailment. It seems she has simply been overexerted these past days. Let me prescribe a tonic to replenish her qi and nourish her blood. I will return for a follow-up examination in ten days."

Since when had she become so frail?

As Fu Tingjun pondered this, Yuwei had already seen the physician out.

The scent of medicinal herbs drifted through the residence. Zhao Ling's expression changed the moment he caught it, and he burst into the inner chamber. "What's happened?" His face was somewhat pale. "Where do you feel unwell? Why didn't you send Anxin to inform me?"

"It's nothing!" Fu Tingjun quickly reassured him. "The physician said I've been overexerted. A few days of rest and I'll be fine."

Zhao Ling remained uneasy and asked Mo Yi to help find an imperial physician to examine her. But the imperial physicians, like themselves, were mostly on duty at the palace and could only come to see Fu Tingjun in their spare time without a special decree. However, before the imperial physician could arrive, the physician for the follow-up visit came instead. He prescribed the same formula as before and said he would return in ten days.

As he was leaving, he happened to encounter Zhao Ling...

Meanwhile, Fu Tingjun held the prescription but delayed giving it to Yuwei.

Yuwei asked softly, "What's the matter, madam?"

"I think this physician's skills seem rather ordinary. What do you think—should we find another one?" Fu Tingjun said hesitantly. "Lately I not only feel tired often, but I also keep wanting to sleep..."

Before she could finish speaking, the door curtain rustled and Zhao Ling walked in. "If you employ someone, trust them; if you don't trust them, don't employ them. Since you have doubts, I'll question him when he comes next time." With that, he took the prescription from Fu Tingjun's hand and handed it to Yuwei. "Take this medicine for now—it's at most ten days."

Yuwei smiled and left with the prescription.

Fu Tingjun reluctantly accepted this arrangement.

Zhao Ling carefully fed her the medicine, coaxing her like a child whenever she didn't want to drink it. He even specially bought wo-si candy for her to take after the medicine. At night, he no longer disturbed her—if she stirred even slightly, he would immediately wake and ask what was wrong, as if she were fragile porcelain he feared might break if held too tightly or get chipped if set down...

Fu Tingjun couldn't help but grow suspicious. She grabbed his lapels and asked, "Do I have some terrible illness? Is my time short..."

"Nonsense." Zhao Ling scolded her with affectionate indulgence. "Aside from low energy, is there anywhere else you feel unwell or in pain?"

Fu Tingjun thought carefully. "I don't think so..."

"Then that settles it," Zhao Ling said immediately. "If you had some terrible illness, would you still be this relaxed?"

Fu Tingjun smiled sheepishly.

Zhao Ling kissed her cheek tenderly. "Perhaps it's just autumn drowsiness. These days when I'm on duty, my eyelids sometimes fight each other, and I have to wash my face with cold water."

Was it because she slept restlessly at night and disturbed him?

In that instant, Fu Tingjun's heart filled with guilt.

"Stop overthinking," Zhao Ling said, pulling her into his arms. "Get some rest now. I'll be on night duty at the palace again tomorrow. Have Yuwei attend to you these next few days—she's been with you since childhood, so you'll find her more familiar and convenient." He added, "How's your appetite these days? If there's anything you'd like to eat, just tell me. Don't hold back or worry about this and that—don't make things hard on yourself."

Fu Tingjun only wished he would rest soon. "The dishes Zheng Sanniang cooks suit my taste quite well," she said, then urged him, "Go to sleep now. Don't worry about these things. I'm going to sleep too."

Zhao Ling indeed fell silent, and before long, his breathing became long and even. Only then did she let out a long sigh of relief.

When the physician came for a follow-up visit, Zhao Ling had taken a day off from work. Because her husband was there to accompany her, Fu Tingjun only drew the inner gauze curtain.

Zhao Ling stood at the foot of the bed. Though his expression was gentle, Fu Tingjun could not help but feel that he seemed very tense. When the physician finished carefully taking her pulse and gave Zhao Ling a slight nod, Zhao Ling could no longer conceal his excitement and immediately grasped Fu Tingjun's hand.

"Ah Jun, you are pregnant. We—we are going to be parents..."