Super-Fertile Darling: Forced to Marry the Heirless Tyrant

When Ji Qingrong returned home, she brought the matter up with her husband that evening.

Lu Juan had been busy with his duties recently and did not get home until late. He listened as his wife spoke.

He said in surprise, "Ah Rong, you and Fifth Sister went to Hanshan Temple and ran into the Emperor?"

Emperor Wu Su had been even busier than Lu Juan lately. According to Eunuch Li, he was barely getting enough sleep at night, so how could he have possibly found the time to visit a temple?

Ji Qingrong leaned back on the bed, pulling the floral brocade quilt up a little higher.

"Not only did we run into him, but the Emperor stood right by the carriage with Fifth Sister. He even spoke with her daughter, Jiu Jiu, for quite some time, imparting all sorts of wisdom."

Ji Qingrong lowered her voice and leaned conspiratorially toward his ear.

"If you ask me, he was more patient with her than he is with Young Master Yuan Heng in the palace."

Lu Juan paused, then said thoughtfully, "The Emperor isn’t one for idle chatter. There must be something about Fifth Sister that interests him."

’What kind of interest could a man have in a woman?’

With Lu Juan’s hint, Ji Qingrong immediately understood the reason for the light in Emperor Wu Su’s eyes.

’Men really do understand other men!’ 𝑓𝘳𝑒𝑒𝓌𝘦𝘣𝘯ℴ𝑣𝘦𝑙.𝘤𝑜𝑚

Ji Qingrong and Lu Juan exchanged a look. She waited for him to give her a thorough analysis, as her husband had always had a clear grasp of court affairs.

Lu Juan stroked his wife’s belly and said with a smile, "That little girl Jiu Jiu is spirited and clever, quite likable. The Emperor has only one son, so he must be envious of families with daughters."

Ji Qingrong did not know the Emperor well, but she knew his expression today had been unusually gentle. ’So it was envy?’

But something about it still felt wrong.

"Could it be that..." She did not finish her sentence.

Lu Juan sat on the edge of the bed, lifted a corner of the quilt, and reached over to massage her leg.

But now that he was home, his mind was entirely focused on Ji Qingrong. He did not want to think about outside matters, even if that person was the Emperor.

"Are your legs sore from walking?"

She let go of her doubts and quickly pulled her leg back, saying softly, "I heard the swelling doesn’t start until the third trimester. I feel fine right now, you don’t have to do this."

He was worried about the hardships of her pregnancy, but she, in turn, ached for him, having to leave early, return late, and work ceaselessly.

Lu Juan pulled her calf back onto his lap and suddenly laughed. "Ah Rong, let’s have a sweet, darling daughter of our own."

’Didn’t he say before that a boy or a girl would be fine, that he’d love any child she gave him?’

Ji Qingrong shook her head. "I’d actually prefer to have a son."

"What’s so good about having a little rascal?" Lu Juan said, dissatisfied.

"You don’t understand the pressure I’m under. It’s better to have a boy right away, then I won’t have to worry about giving birth again."

Ji Qingrong’s thoughts had grown more sensitive during her pregnancy. She continued worriedly, "What if I can never give birth to a son? The Marquis Mansion’s title would end with us. I would be greatly at fault."

But Lu Juan did not seem to think having a son was a big deal. "Doesn’t Second Brother have a son? Worst case, we can just adopt him."

His second brother, Lu Wei, was the son of a concubine, so it was not his turn to inherit the title. But if Ji Qingrong could not produce an heir, adoption would be the only option.

Ji Qingrong felt that taking someone else’s child was too cruel. Besides, her second sister-in-law, Feng Shuang, doted on Song as if he were the apple of her eye; she would never agree to it.

Seeing Ji Qingrong’s face scrunched up in a frown, Lu Juan said, "You don’t like that idea, Ah Rong? It’s all right. I have other ways."

’What other way could there be to have a son?’

Ji Qingrong’s face fell. She said angrily, "Lu Ziyou! You can’t be thinking of finding a mistress to bear you a son, are you?"

Lu Juan stopped massaging her. His large hand slipped inside her loose-fitting trousers and gave her soft flesh a pinch.

"You’ve gotten bold, haven’t you? Daring to call me by my full name."

Ji Qingrong’s heart tightened. She had called out his name without thinking and now deeply regretted it. But looking at him, she saw no anger in his eyes—only a bright glint.

"You were the one who said you had another way..."

Lu Juan undid his belt with one hand and said casually, "The way I was talking about was giving the Princely Heir’s position to Second Brother, not your bad idea of pushing me off on some mistress."

He spoke of relinquishing the title as simply as giving away a piece of cake.

Ji Qingrong sat up and stared into his eyes. "My love, do you truly think so?"

By now, Lu Juan had already shed his outer robe, wearing only his inner tunic.

He said leisurely, "Ah Rong, surely you don’t believe I have the Emperor’s favor only because of this Princely Heir title? Do you think your husband can’t stand on his own without the support of the Marquis Mansion?"

Hearing his confident words, Ji Qingrong instantly felt at ease.

Then she heard Lu Juan add nonchalantly, "This matter isn’t important. What’s important right now is something else."

Ji Qingrong felt that nothing was more important than this right now. If his mother from the Cui family heard him, she would probably go mad with anger.

But in the next moment, Lu Juan took her hand and placed it on a certain spot. The arrogant Favored Minister of the Emperor, so imperious at court, was now whispering a plea in her ear, "Help me, Ah Rong."

It was just that the solution Lu Juan offered was too satisfying. Ji Qingrong had no choice but to go along with his wishes.

After bathing once more, a drowsy Ji Qingrong leaned against Lu Juan’s embrace.

Lu Juan stroked her back, his eyes lowered in deep thought.

’Right now, they are relatives of the Marquis Mansion, but who knows when they might become the whetstone. Emperor Wu Su is not an emperor willing to share the boat with the great aristocratic families.’

’The Emperor himself came from an aristocratic family; he saw through this tangled web of clan relationships long ago.’

’The major aristocratic families look glamorous and distinguished on the surface, but in reality, they are mired in filth underneath, rotten to the core.’

’Emperor Wu Su intends to purge them, but he hasn’t yet found a suitable opportunity to strike. Which family he’ll use to make his first move is still unknown.’

*

「One week later.」

White lanterns were hung at the main gate of the Ji Mansion.

The Ji Family’s third son, Ji Changyan, had languished in the Imperial Prison for some time before finally passing away.

Ever since returning from Cining Palace, Old Madam Ji had been bedridden. Weighed down by excessive worry, her health showed no signs of improving. When she heard the news of her grandson’s death, her illness grew even worse.

Ms. Wu had fainted several times while clutching the memorial tablet, so this time, the funeral arrangements fell entirely on the shoulders of Mrs. Qiao.

The entire hall was draped in white. Not many people came to pay their respects, and the mourning hall was cold and deserted.

Because Ji Changyan had been a convicted criminal before his death, none of his usual gang of carousing friends showed up. Even Prince Yong did not make an appearance, merely sending someone to deliver funerary gifts.

The funerary gifts were arranged by Princess Yong, and she used the opportunity to send a message to Ji Qingwu.

Tao Wanxin had taken the first prescription she provided, and her health had greatly improved. Now, she was just waiting to see when the second prescription would take effect.

Ji Qingwu was sitting by a window in Wutong Garden.

She was dressed in plain white mourning clothes, with no hair ornaments. Her beauty was as pure and natural as a lotus in clear water. In her hands, she held a wick soaked in vinegar. After adding water to the outer layer of the lamp’s shade, she finished making a long-life lamp.

She had not originally planned to go to the mourning hall, but she felt that all grudges should fade and be resolved with a person’s passing.

Ji Qingwu placed the long-life lamp in a corner of the mourning hall, lit a stick of incense, and then left.

She had just stepped out of the main gate and was walking toward Wutong Garden when a sharp cry came from behind her.

"Don’t you dare leave!"

Ji Qingyuan, so thin her face had become gaunt, was standing right behind her.