CHAPTER 39. AFTER THE STORM
Pain ripped through the room like a jagged blade. Mingzhu gripped the wooden bedpost. Knuckles turned white against the dark wood. A sharp, ragged gasp escaped pale lips. Sweat soaked the thin silk garments clinging to her skin.
Outside the heavy oak doors, the great Marquis of Wei was completely losing his mind.
Zhanyuan had faced thousands of enemy soldiers without blinking. Arrow fire did not make the man flinch. Blood on a battlefield felt as normal as rain. Yet, a single muffled groan from his own bedroom brought the feared general to a halt. Boot heels struck the stone courtyard in a frantic, never-ending rhythm. Back and forth. Back and forth.
Three soldiers sat near the garden wall, watching their commander fall apart.
Liu Dazhu stared at the ground, looking deeply traumatized by the general’s panic. Chen Xiaopi chewed a fingernail down to the quick. Tang Wuyan simply stood perfectly still, eyes wide, internal thoughts screaming.
"General," Xiaopi whispered, voice shaking. "Pacing will not make the child arrive faster."
A glare sharp enough to cut steel snapped toward the three men. The subordinates instantly looked up at the sky, suddenly very interested in the clouds. Nobody spoke another word.
Another cry echoed from the bedroom. Zhanyuan grabbed the door handle.
The midwife blocked the entrance instantly. "Out! My Lord, if you take one more step into this room, I will hit you with a copper basin!"
The man who broke armies stepped back. The door slammed shut in his face.
Hours dragged like heavy chains. The sun dipped below the walls. Shadows stretched long across the Wei estate. Inside the room, the struggle continued. Mingzhu did not scream loudly. The merchant’s daughter fought the pain with the same quiet, devastating focus used to destroy political enemies in the court. Breaths came in sharp pants. Maids wiped cold cloths across a burning forehead.
Then, a new sound pierced the quiet night.
A sharp, angry wail filled the air.
Zhanyuan did not wait for permission. The wooden doors flew open, hitting the walls with a loud crash. The Marquis rushed into the room, boots heavy on the floorboards.
The midwife held a tiny, red, screaming bundle wrapped in clean linen.
Zhanyuan ignored everyone else. Armor clanked softly as the general dropped directly to his knees beside the bed. Mingzhu looked exhausted. Dark hair plastered against damp skin. Dark circles shadowed tired eyes. Yet, a soft, radiant smile rested on her lips.
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
Thick, calloused fingers gently brushed sweaty hair away from a pale face. "You are safe," Zhanyuan whispered, voice cracking. "I am here."
Mingzhu turned her head, resting a warm cheek against a rough palm. "Look at our son."
The midwife carefully placed the bundle into the general’s massive arms. Zhanyuan froze. The man looked terrified. A warrior who swung heavy broadswords with ease now held a tiny infant like it was made of thin glass. The baby stopped crying, opening dark, sleepy eyes.
A single tear slipped down a scarred face, dropping onto the linen blanket. The armor was completely gone. The fearsome Marquis wept silently over a newborn child.
Morning sunlight warmed the estate. The storm of the past few months had finally passed. The traitorous uncle was gone. The brutal fight for justice was over. Now, only the quiet work of healing remained.
Footsteps echoed softly in the hallway. Baozi walked into the master bedroom. The loyal assistant carried a small toddler resting on one hip. Douhua’s child. The little girl chewed happily on a wooden toy, round cheeks identical to the mother who had sacrificed everything.
Baozi stopped near the bed. The usual chaotic energy was gone, replaced by a quiet, steady strength. Grief still lived in those eyes, but the sharp edges had softened. Baozi was doing a good job raising the little girl alone.
"My Lady," Baozi said, bowing slightly. "We brought a gift for the young master."
Mingzhu sat propped against soft pillows. A gentle smile greeted the visitors. "Come closer. Let her see."
Baozi stepped forward. The toddler leaned over, staring down at the sleeping newborn. A tiny, chubby finger reached out and poked the baby’s cheek.
"Gentle," Baozi murmured, catching the small hand. "He is new."
Zhanyuan stood near the window, watching the exchange. A heavy ache tightened the general's chest. Douhua should be here. The chaotic, dramatic maiden should be screaming with joy. But looking at Baozi, Zhanyuan saw survival. The family had lost deeply, but love remained. Warmth was finally returning to the Wei household.
Loud voices suddenly shattered the peaceful morning.
"Move aside, old man! That is my grandson!" Shen Boqian’s booming voice echoed from the courtyard.
"I am a General of the Empire! I do not move aside for merchants!" Wei Tianlong roared back.
The bedroom doors swung open. The two fathers marched into the room, instantly crowding the small wooden crib.
Boqian leaned over, squinting. "Look at that strong nose. Definitely a Shen. He has the mind of a merchant already."
Tianlong snorted loudly, crossing thick arms. "Nonsense. Look at the grip on those tiny fists. That is the grip of a warrior. A Wei through and through."
While the men argued loudly over the crib, the two mothers quietly slipped into the room. Wei Roulan and Shen Yuemei ignored their husbands entirely. The women carried two large scrolls filled with notes.
"I have already looked at the best academies in the capital," Roulan whispered, tapping a finger on the parchment.
"Excellent," Yuemei agreed, nodding sharply. "And I have drafted a list of appropriate marriage alliances. We must start early. The court is full of vipers."
The mothers immediately sat at a tea table, whispering and conspiring about the child’s entire future.
Mingzhu watched the chaos from the bed. A quiet laugh escaped her lips. The sound felt light, free of the heavy burdens carried for so long.
Zhanyuan walked over to the bed, ignoring the loud arguing across the room. The Marquis poured a cup of warm water, handing it carefully to his wife.
"Drink," Zhanyuan ordered softly.
Mingzhu took a small sip, then handed the cup back. "The pillows are too flat."
The feared military commander immediately dropped the cup onto a table. Large hands quickly adjusted the silk cushions, fluffing them until perfection was achieved.
"Better?" Zhanyuan asked, hovering nervously.
"Acceptable," Mingzhu replied, eyes gleaming with hidden amusement. "Now, go sit down. You have not slept in two days."
Zhanyuan frowned, crossing arms over a broad chest. "I do not need sleep. I am fine standing right here."
Mingzhu simply looked up. The gaze was calm, unblinking, and entirely in control. No words were needed. The brilliant merchant’s daughter simply raised one perfectly arched eyebrow.
The staring match lasted exactly four seconds.
The mighty general sighed, shoulders dropping in total defeat. "Fine. I will sit in the chair. But only for a moment."
Zhanyuan walked to a wooden armchair near the bed and heavily sat down. Within three minutes, the Marquis was fast asleep, chin resting on a hand.
Outside the open window, Tang Wuyan peeked over the garden sill. The quiet subordinate watched the fearsome commander snoring softly in a chair simply because a woman gave him a look.
Tang Wuyan shook his head slowly. The subordinate finally spoke out loud, breaking a lifetime of silence.
"Completely and utterly hopeless."
Inside the sunlit room, Mingzhu rested a hand on the sleeping baby. The house was noisy. The fathers were still arguing. The mothers were still plotting. A loyal assistant chased a laughing toddler down the hall. And the most dangerous man in the kingdom slept peacefully in a chair, completely tamed.
The storm was over. Peace had finally found a home.