Super-Fertile Darling: Forced to Marry the Heirless Tyrant

Zhao Yuanheng swallowed his refusal.

’Alright, it’s not too late.’

The boy had a theory. ’Could this woman be a siren from the lake? The kind whose otherworldly beauty is a façade for a demon that preys on the minds of men.’

Then, he heard Ji Qingwu tilt her head and call out to him gently.

"Young Master."

A shiver ran through Zhao Yuanheng’s small frame.

He shot her a glance, pulled back his hand, and turned his head away, feigning composure.

"What is it?"

A sudden gust of wind left Ji Qingwu feeling chilled to the bone.

She decided to stop teasing him. They were both drenched, and the wind was growing colder. If they stayed out any longer, they were sure to catch a chill.

’A child catching a chill could lead to a high fever, which is incredibly dangerous in this era.’

From here, the Empress Dowager’s Cining Palace was the closest.

Ji Qingwu opened her arms and reached for the boy. "Young Master, let’s go find a place to change into some dry clothes."

Zhao Yuanheng tilted his head up at her gesture and flatly refused. "I have my own two legs. I can walk. I don’t like physical contact with others."

Ji Qingwu glanced at his short legs, an amused smile on her face. "But I’m so cold. I want to get inside, change my clothes, and warm up as soon as possible."

With that, she ignored his protests, swooping him up and holding him securely in her arms.

Zhao Yuanheng struggled, squirming a few times, but her arms remained as steady as iron.

’She looks so delicate, how is she stronger than the nannies who attend to me?’

The boy was surprisingly heavy—much heavier than Jiu Jiu—but Ji Qingwu still carried him with ease.

She even gave him a little bounce and chuckled. "Am I just ’others’? I risked my life to save you after you fell in the water. According to the storybooks, you should call me your savior—no, your heroine! If you weren’t so young..."

Zhao Yuanheng mentally finished the sentence for her, and a faint blush crept onto his jade-like face.

Ji Qingwu didn’t know what had gotten into her today. Seeing the boy’s serious, adult-like demeanor just made her want to tease him.

Zhao Yuanheng peeked up from her arms, his expression solemn. Her embrace was just as damp as he was.

’But she smells so nice... and feels so soft.’

Ji Qingwu had been shivering, but with the boy in her arms, he was like a little furnace, warming her chest.

His nose twitched as he took in her scent. He looked at her pointed chin, then stared, mesmerized, at her ear and the side of her face.

Just as Ji Qingwu reached the gates of Cining Palace, she ran into Shixi, who was returning from an errand.

Shixi gasped. "Young Master Yuan Heng!"

Taking a closer look, she asked in shock, "Why are you two together? And why are you both soaked to the bone!"

She had just been to Guanju Palace, where Princess Consort Wei’s Chief Palace Maid, Bita, had told her the Young Master was still at the Imperial College and not yet out of his lessons. Yet here he was, right at the palace gates.

Hearing Aunt Shi Xi call him "Young Master," Ji Qingwu stiffened and looked down.

’So this kid really is someone important.’

Not only was this young master a prince, he was the sole heir of the new Emperor of Beili.

Though nestled in her arms, Zhao Yuanheng projected an imposing air as he rebuked the flustered Shixi with surprising authority.

"What are you making such a fuss about!"

Shixi could only bow her head in apology before leading the Young Master and Ji Qingwu to the West Wing of Cining Palace to change.

Six Palace Attendants entered to help Young Master Yuan Heng change his clothes.

Ji Qingwu took the set of clothes Shixi offered her, along with some cotton cloths to dry her body and hair, and slipped behind the Eight Treasure Poem Screen, which was carved from golden-thread nanmu wood, to change.

She had just removed her outer robe when she heard the voices of Palace Attendants from beyond the screen, offering greetings.

"Empress Dowager."

Having received Shixi’s message, the Empress Dowager had rushed over from the main hall with Old Madam Ji. Prince Yong had bumped into them and followed along.

Her footsteps were rushed, and her voice was filled with urgency as she called out.

"Yuan Heng, let your Imperial Grandmother see you! Are you alright? Are you hurt anywhere?"

With the help of the Palace Attendants, Yuan Heng had already changed into his inner clothes and was now tying the sash of his outer robe.

In truth, when they had first heard that the little prince had fallen into the water, the Empress Dowager and Old Madam Ji had exchanged a smile. Their joy far outweighed their concern; it was as if their prayers had been answered.

She had been worrying about how to find a reason to take the little prince from Princess Consort Wei’s care and raise him in Cining Palace. Now, an opportunity had fallen right into her lap.

The Empress Dowager cooed lovingly, "Oh, my dear grandson, let your grandmother have a look at you."

Yuan Heng’s brow furrowed. As the Empress Dowager’s hand reached for him, he deftly sidestepped her touch. He looked at her with his calm, dark eyes and bowed.

"Imperial Grandmother."

The gesture was perfectly courteous, but utterly devoid of warmth.

The Empress Dowager’s hand froze awkwardly in midair.

’It was her own fault. She usually showed so little concern for her grandson; now her sudden affection seemed forced.’

Ji Qingwu wasn’t sure who had just entered. She was still in her undergarments, which were soaked through. The wet, white fabric had become transparent, clinging tightly to the curves of her body. She dared not move, lest her state of undress draw the attention of those outside.

She just prayed the Empress Dowager would take the Young Master to the main hall quickly.

The screen was curved and stood two meters tall. No one would be able to see her behind it, unless they were sitting in the main seat and deliberately craned their neck to look.

But Prince Yong had a sharp nose. He caught a faint scent that was neither floral nor fruity.

’It was an alluring fragrance, one he had smelled earlier on a certain lovely young lady in the hall.’

He raised an eyebrow. "What is that smell in here? Open a window and air the place out."

A nearby Palace Attendant quietly assented and was about to move toward the window when Prince Yong himself started walking, striding directly toward the screen.

Hearing Prince Yong’s voice, Ji Qingwu snatched her outer robe and scrambled to put it on.

’If a man from outside her family saw her in nothing but her wet undergarments, it would be no different from being seen naked. If Prince Yong really saw her like this, she would surely be forced to become his concubine!’

Shixi realized this as well and was about to speak up.

Just then, the booming voice of Li Yuzong, the Chief of the Internal Affairs Office, echoed from outside. 𝗳𝚛𝗲𝕖𝚠𝚎𝚋𝗻𝗼𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝚘𝐦

"His Majesty, the Emperor, arrives!"

Ji Qingwu gasped. ’It would have been better if I hadn’t tried to change at all! Now I’m half-dressed and in an impossible situation.’

She scrambled to pull on the outer robe, but her soaked inner layers made it incredibly difficult.

Prince Yong halted. He narrowed his eyes, then turned to greet the Emperor at the door.

A wave of voices rose up as everyone dropped to their knees in greeting.

"We greet Your Majesty."

The Palace Attendants and eunuchs of Cining Palace knelt, a dense mass covering the floor.

A tall, imposing figure dressed in imperial yellow drew steadily closer. His gait was unhurried, his expression dignified, and he radiated an aura so powerful it sent a chill down one’s spine.

"Greetings, Your Majesty."

Prince Yong and Old Madam Ji also bowed in greeting.

In an instant, nearly everyone in the West Wing was on their knees.

Yuan Heng, now fully dressed though his hair was not yet properly tied up in its crown, lifted the hem of his robe and knelt on one knee. In a loud, reverent voice, he declared, "Your son pays his respects to his Imperial Father!"

For one so young, his every action was impeccably proper.

A deep male voice finally sounded.

"Rise."

The voice struck Ji Qingwu’s ears like the ringing of a celestial sword from an ethereal valley—cold, yet sharp.

The hand she was using to pull on her robe froze, her fingers clenching the sash tightly.

She had hesitated for a moment too long. The best chance to emerge had passed, so all she could do was remain hidden behind the screen.

’Should I kneel or not?’

’I’d better not. It’s not like anyone can see me anyway.’

Ji Qingwu decided to throw caution to the wind.