Concubine of the Eastern Palace (Qing Dynasty Time Travel)

The back rooms were instantly illuminated, and Cheng Wanyun was carefully carried into the delivery room by two skilled attendants. Inside, a brazier was already lit, warming the room like spring. The heat enveloped her, bringing a sense of calm.

“Miss, please forgive my impertinence,” said the midwife as she quickly adjusted Cheng Wanyun’s position, propping up her upper body with pillows. After washing her hands with hot water, she pressed lightly on Cheng Wanyun’s abdomen to confirm the baby’s position. Only after ensuring the position was correct did she wash her hands again. Then, she removed Cheng Wanyun’s pants to check the dilation of her cervix. “It’s not yet two fingers wide. Are you feeling pain, Miss?”

Cheng Wanyun nodded, her face pale. “It hurts a little.”

“What kind of pain?”

“It comes in waves, about once every quarter of an hour.” At this point, Cheng Wanyun could still speak clearly, though she furrowed her brows tightly whenever the contractions struck. “It’s not very painful yet.”

“That’s normal. Don’t worry, Miss. Childbirth is a step-by-step process. I’ll arrange for some food to be brought in. Rest for now and conserve your strength. When the pain becomes more intense, and you can’t bear it anymore—about once every seven or eight minutes—we’ll begin in earnest. Don’t be afraid. I’ll stay by your side the entire time.”

The kitchen staff had been on standby, and upon receiving the order, Eunuch Zheng promptly had a steaming bowl of noodles prepared, topped with two poached eggs. Cheng Wanyun, who initially had no appetite, was reluctant to eat. The midwife knelt down and urged her, “Miss, you need to eat. While the pain isn’t too severe, eat quickly. Otherwise, when the pain intensifies, you won’t be able to eat or have the time. Without strength, giving birth will be much harder, and it will be you who suffers.”

Cheng Wanyun’s face was frozen with fear. She quickly had Qingxing bring the food over and served her to ensure she ate it.

At three-quarters past 9 PM, just as Cheng Wanyun entered the delivery room, Yinreng arrived from Chunben Hall. For the past month, ever since her pregnancy advanced, he had moved to the study in Chunben Hall to sleep. As her belly grew larger, she found it uncomfortable to sleep through the night, often needing to get up. His presence would only make it inconvenient for her. By moving out, A Wan could keep the chamber pot in the room instead of having to go outside, and she could freely toss and turn without worrying about disturbing him.

At that time, Cheng Wanyun could only sleep on her side for comfort. Yinreng, worried he might accidentally bump into her in his sleep, visited her daily to eat meals together but refrained from staying overnight.

Instead, he arranged for her attendants—Qingxing, Bitao, and Hongying—to take turns watching over her at night in case of emergencies.

Now, he sat rigidly in the outer hall, his face calm and composed. But inwardly, his thoughts were in chaos. Watching the palace maids and eunuchs moving in and out in an orderly manner finally gave him a slight sense of relief.

He had sternly ordered Side Concubine Li and Tang Gege to remain confined to their quarters and forbade them from visiting.

There were already enough people in the courtyard, with both the staff sent by Kangxi and the imperial physicians present. Yinreng had also deployed the Chunben Hall guards to tightly seal off the back chambers, ensuring no unauthorized persons could approach.

Two hours later, Cheng Wanyun began experiencing intense contractions. The midwives alternated between comforting and tending to her. Following their instructions, she tried to track the frequency of her contractions. The pain came in waves, each one stronger and more overwhelming than the last. Her face turned pale, and she couldn’t help but curl up from the intensity.

The midwives encouraged her, “Miss, you’re doing very well. You’re already five fingers dilated—it’s going smoothly. Hold on a little longer and don’t push yet. The baby is the perfect size. Listen to us: conserve your strength for now, so you don’t hurt yourself.”

Hearing A Wan’s occasional cries of pain from inside, Yinreng couldn’t sit still anymore. He shot to his feet and began pacing anxiously in the hall. He repeatedly asked the imperial physicians outside, “Should we use medication to assist the birth? Why hasn’t it started yet?”

The imperial physician quickly knelt and replied, “Your Highness, the lady has only been in labor for two hours. That’s not long. The cervix hasn’t fully dilated yet, and it’s not time for delivery.”

Two hours? Yinreng had forgotten that Wang Gege had labored for an entire day before. The sound of the clock ticking seemed unbearably loud, making time drag on endlessly in his mind.

By this point, Cheng Wanyun was in so much pain that she began to feel dazed, her head burning as though it were overheating. Her whole body was drenched in sweat. All she could hear was the midwife prying her legs apart and shouting, “Miss, push!”

Instinctively, she followed the instructions, only to hear the midwife say, “Good, very good! Now rest for a moment. When the pain comes again, follow my lead. Push when I tell you to and rest when I tell you to. Don’t push continuously, or the baby’s head might tear the lower part. Slow and steady wins the race; we’ll take this step by step!”

Cheng Wanyun burst into tears. It hurt so much, yet they still had to take it step by step!

The thought of Wang Gege losing her life because she used scissors gave Cheng Wanyun a deep fear, but her determination to survive overpowered her terror of the pain. She obediently followed the midwife’s instructions. Every time her abdomen contracted violently and the pressure became unbearable, she trembled all over and pushed with all her might. It was almost too much to bear—she couldn’t muster strength during the pain, and when it subsided, the midwife told her not to push.

Her head felt heavy, and after a round of effort, she could only lie there gasping for breath.

The midwife, desperate to keep her focused, almost wanted to beat a gong to wake her up. Speaking loudly by her ear, she said, “Miss, hold on a little longer! I can already see the baby’s hair—so shiny and black. Such a beautiful baby! This child is working hard to come out because they love you. Keep trying; you’re almost there!”

Cheng Wanyun could barely lift her eyelids. Another sharp wave of pain struck, and with all her strength, she gripped the bedsheet and pushed as if using the effort of two lifetimes. Suddenly, she felt a hollow emptiness in her abdomen. In an instant, the midwife caught the baby in her hands, as amniotic fluid gushed out. The newborn began crying loudly.

Relieved, Cheng Wanyun felt like she had lost half her life in the process. She didn’t even care whether the baby was a boy or a girl. To her, both were treasures—she had no preference. All she wanted now was peace and quiet so she could close her eyes and sleep.

But before she could drift off, another midwife pressed down on her abdomen. “Miss, push one more time. We need to deliver the placenta; it can’t be left inside.”

What? That thing didn’t come out with the baby? Why was it so inefficient?

Tears streaming down her face, Cheng Wanyun began another round of effort. Thankfully, it was much faster this time. In about fifteen minutes, with one hand pressing her abdomen and the other gently tugging the umbilical cord, the midwife delivered the bloody placenta and took it away to bury in the designated pit.

Finally, Cheng Wanyun could rest. After sipping a little ginseng soup, she closed her eyes and fell asleep.

Even as she slept, she could feel people bustling around her. Some carefully lifted her to change the bedding; others used warm towels to wipe the blood from her legs. Someone even applied a cool medicinal ointment beneath her. By the time they were done, her body felt clean and fresh.

Outside, when Yinreng heard the baby’s first cries, his shoulders slumped in relief. By then, dawn had broken, and the pale winter sun illuminated the snow-covered ground. He sat in silence for a long time, sweat soaking his back, feeling as though he, too, had just endured childbirth. He was utterly exhausted, both physically and mentally.

The midwife had cleaned the baby, wrapping it snugly in a red satin swaddle embroidered with cloud patterns. Beaming, she presented the child and said, “Your Highness, congratulations! Mother and daughter are both safe. The little one weighs six pounds and six ounces, a most auspicious number. She is sure to live a life of peace, prosperity, and good fortune!”

“How is Cheng Gege?”

The delivery room door was covered with thick cotton drapes. Yinreng stood at the entrance, glimpsing the shadows of people moving inside whenever the drapes lifted as someone entered or exited. However, he couldn’t hear A Wan’s voice anymore.

“Rest assured, Your Highness,” the midwife replied. “Cheng Gege had a smooth delivery and is now resting. The delivery room is still messy. Once everything is tidied up, you can go in to see her.”

Yinreng finally nodded and carefully lifted the swaddle to take a look. The newborn’s hair was still wet, and her entire body was red like a little monkey. But it was already clear that her facial features closely resembled A Wan’s, and her delicate little face was charming.

It was… a tiny A Wan.

His heart instantly melted. Leaning closer, he gently touched the baby’s cheek with his fingertip. It felt as soft as silken tofu. Quickly, he pulled his hand back, but he couldn’t resist taking a few more lingering glances.

This feeling was entirely different from when the young prince was born. At that time, Wang Gege’s death reminded Yinreng of his own mother, Empress Hesheri. Had he been the cause of his mother’s death when he was born? The joy of the young prince’s arrival was quickly overshadowed by the specter of loss.

But this time, A Wan’s smooth and safe delivery allowed him to fully experience the pure joy of fatherhood without any burden.

When the wet nurses entered to greet him, Yinreng quickly regained his composure and adopted the demeanor of a responsible father. First, he generously rewarded everyone who had helped in the delivery room. Then, he instructed the two wet nurses to take meticulous care of the little princess. Any sign of negligence, and he would punish their entire families.

The wet nurses knelt and repeatedly promised their utmost dedication to the little princess. Because newborns need frequent feeding, the two wet nurses were assigned to take turns day and night. The stronger, more robust wet nurse stepped forward to take the baby from the midwife and immediately went to feed her, as newborns mustn’t be left hungry.

The wet nurses and the baby were housed in the adjacent side room next to the delivery room. This arrangement was made for two reasons: so Cheng Wanyun could see the baby whenever she woke up, and because it was winter, neither the baby nor the mother was allowed outside. With only a door separating the rooms, and the floor-heating system keeping both spaces warm, it was the most practical setup.

Meanwhile, Cheng Wanyun was blissfully unaware of what was happening outside. She had fallen into a deep sleep right after the baby was born at 8:45 AM. By the time she woke up, it was already late afternoon, around 3 PM.

In the short winter day, the sky had darkened early. Everything around her was quiet, and snow fell softly outside. The palace lanterns beneath the eaves were misty with melted snow, casting a dim, warm light over the snowy ground.

Feeling well-rested, she stretched. Although her body still felt a little fatigued, her mind and belly felt incredibly light. In her rather inappropriate and inelegant way of describing it, she felt as though she had been constipated for three years and was suddenly… free.

Ah… what a relief.

Qingxing, who had sharp ears, heard her stirring and immediately came around the screen to help her sit up with a smile. “Miss, you’re finally awake! Are you hungry? The senior maid from the kitchen prepared boiled eggs in brown sugar water. The imperial physician said it helps with clearing out the lochia and revitalizing your blood flow. We’ve been instructed to make you a bowl every day.”

Apart from some soreness below, Cheng Wanyun felt no discomfort and was beginning to feel hungry. She quickly nodded. “Have them bring it in. Oh, by the way… where’s the baby?”

She suddenly remembered what she had forgotten—she had given birth!

“The little princess just had her milk and fell asleep. I’ll ask Mama Geng to bring her over,” Qingxing replied promptly.

Mama Geng was one of the wet nurses, the tall and sturdy one. Cheng Wanyun remembered her well from her earlier bow of greeting. Then, realization struck—’the little princess?’ She had given birth to a daughter!

That was perfect. She loved daughters.

When she finally saw the baby wrapped snugly in a red blanket adorned with small floral patterns, leaving only a tender little face exposed, Cheng Wanyun’s heart melted instantly. The little princess already looked better than she had right after birth. Thanks to her good prenatal care and the relatively quick labor—only one night from start to finish—the baby’s face hadn’t been too compressed during delivery. Now, the swelling had begun to subside, and the redness was fading, revealing patches of her naturally fair skin.

“Let me hold her. How do I do it? Teach me!” Cheng Wanyun eagerly wanted to hold and kiss her daughter. With Mama Geng’s guidance, she finally managed to awkwardly take the baby into her arms, allowing her to observe her daughter up close.

Even in her sleep, the baby smacked her lips as if savoring the taste of milk from earlier.

Cheng Wanyun noticed that her daughter’s lips were a little like the Crown Prince’s—round and well-shaped. Her nose also resembled his, as Cheng Wanyun’s own nose wasn’t quite so straight and defined. Despite being only a day old, her daughter’s nasal bridge was already noticeably high. Next, Cheng Wanyun examined the baby’s eyes. Though they were closed, the shape of her eyelids and the faint double eyelid line made it clear that the little princess had inherited her mother’s big, almond-shaped eyes!

Perfect! Her wish had come true!

(Of course, this wasn’t to say she thought the Crown Prince’s smaller eyes were bad.)

The Crown Prince was a refined, soft-featured, “salt-type” handsome man, with long, narrow eyes that suited his gentle and elegant demeanor. But on someone else’s face, that eye shape might not work as well, as it required a specific aura to pull off. It also wouldn’t look good on someone heavier, as excess weight could compress the eyes into a straight line.

Because of these reasons, Cheng Wanyun had prayed during her pregnancy for her child to inherit her eyes. She thought her own facial features were average, except for her large, dark eyes with naturally rich irises that gave her a natural “contact lens” effect.

Her daughter had inherited them perfectly, and Cheng Wanyun was utterly satisfied.

At this moment, Qingxing brought over a bowl of boiled eggs in brown sugar syrup. Reluctantly, Cheng Wanyun handed the baby back to Mama Geng and began eating, reminding her in between bites, “After each feeding, bring the little princess to me.”

Mama Geng immediately agreed.

Although the wet nurses were chosen by the Crown Prince, Cheng Wanyun had been involved in the selection process too. She had initially thought her modern knowledge and experience in judging people would give her an edge, but the Crown Prince had proven to be even more meticulous.

First, Mama Geng and the other wet nurse, Mama Suo, were both married into the Hesheri clan and members of the Eight Banners nobility, ensuring their family backgrounds were clean. This was of utmost importance. Second, both women had recently given birth, just three months prior, and were around twenty years old. They were healthy, of good character, and had never suffered from any major illnesses.

The Crown Prince had then instructed the senior maid and the imperial physicians to inspect the milk expressed by the candidates. Apparently, the color and consistency of the milk mattered too, with the palace favoring thick, yellowish milk for its superior nutrition.

After passing these political and health checks, the two wet nurses were selected and brought to Yuqing Palace a month before Cheng Wanyun’s delivery. There, they were given high-quality meals and care, though their diets were carefully planned by the imperial physicians to ensure they remained healthy and their milk pure.

Cheng Wanyun felt she couldn’t have made a better choice.

After finishing the red sugar eggs and resting for half an hour, Qingxing brought over a bowl of dandelion soup meant to help her stop lactating. “My Lady, the imperial physician instructed that you must take this medicine after meals,” Qingxing said.

Cheng Wanyun drank it without hesitation. She had no qualms about not breastfeeding her child. First, it wasn’t allowed in the palace, and she didn’t want to be an exception. Second, she understood the challenges of breastfeeding. In her previous life, many of her colleagues were “pumping moms,” and she’d seen the toll it took—cracked skin, clogged ducts, mastitis leading to fevers, and countless sleepless nights until the baby was weaned.

During postpartum recovery, these mothers had to wake every one to two hours to feed their babies, and even after the baby turned one, many still needed night feedings. When they returned to work after maternity leave, they juggled their jobs while pumping milk during breaks and continued losing sleep at night.

Of course, breastfeeding was the best option for the child. Her colleagues often mentioned how formula-fed babies tended to have weaker digestive systems, were more prone to constipation, and had lower immunity than breastfed babies. For their children’s health, these mothers persevered through all the hardship.

Another practical issue was cost—formula was expensive. In her previous life, most families bought imported formula, which wasn’t cheap. A single can cost two to three hundred yuan, and a newborn could go through four cans a month, not to mention the additional costs of diapers, toys, clothes, and other essentials. For many families, it was a significant financial burden.

She remembered one particularly impressive colleague who breastfed her child until the age of two. The baby grew strong and tall, but the mother herself became visibly frail. Cheng Wanyun tried to lighten her workload by exempting her from business trips and overtime, but even so, she aged rapidly.

Thus, when Qingxing handed her the medicine, Cheng Wanyun drank it all without hesitation.

With healthy wet nurses to help, she didn’t need to worry about formula or its cost. Instead, she could focus entirely on recovering her health. She intended to live a long life, especially after her previous one was cut short by overwork and sudden death from burning the candle at both ends.

Although the palace forbade her from nursing for reasons of keeping external family influences in check and ensuring she recovered quickly to serve the Crown Prince and bear more children, it truly worked to her advantage.

Since she wasn’t breastfeeding, she didn’t have to adhere to dietary restrictions during her confinement. She could eat whatever she wanted, and she did so with relish.

Fully committed to her recovery, Cheng Wanyun indulged in every supplement and delicacy offered to her. Within the postpartum month, she gained eight pounds, transforming from a frail, delicate beauty to a radiant, full-figured vision of prosperity. Even the Crown Prince was taken aback.

It felt like it wasn’t just the little princess changing by the day—it was his Wanyun evolving too.

One day he came to visit and thought, “Ah, still a delicate plum blossom.”

The next day, he observed, “Hmm, turning into a hibiscus now?”

By the end of her confinement, he couldn’t help but exclaim, “Whoa! Isn’t this a full-blown peony?”

However, A Wan was truly blessed. Any weight she gained went to the right places. Her face became rounder, giving her a more fortunate appearance. Her chest filled out, making her waist appear even slimmer by contrast. Additionally, due to spending her postpartum recovery mostly in bed, her hips gained more fullness as well.

The palace Mama, Mama Guan, massaged her abdomen and limbs daily to help expel postpartum discharge faster. She also taught A Wang a set of postnatal exercises that could be done in bed. These movements were designed to correct the pelvic deformation caused by childbirth and strengthen the muscles in her lower body.

These exercises were something Mama Guan had devised after attending to numerous noblewomen during childbirth. Without proper recovery and exercise, some women found themselves unable to control their bladder when sneezing or coughing, especially those who bore multiple children.

A Wan was determined and practiced diligently every day!

As a result, her hips grew firmer with consistent effort. Even when she wore the straight and shapeless Manchu-style gowns, her prominent chest and curvy hips brought out a graceful silhouette. It seemed that her body had matured completely after giving birth, transitioning her into a more refined, womanly figure.

She didn’t think she was fat, either. In fact, she rather liked this fuller, healthier look. For example, in the past, her hands and feet were often cold in winter, and she was always freezing. Now, with a bit more fat as insulation, she stayed warm easily, needing only a little extra clothing to feel cozy. Another unexpected benefit was that when she accidentally bumped her stomach into the corner of a table, it no longer hurt as much as it used to when her ribs would take the impact!

The Crown Prince was also very pleased with her new appearance.

In the past, holding her felt a bit bony, and his embrace sometimes felt empty. Now, she was soft and full, with a pleasant weight in his arms that gave him immense satisfaction. Especially during their intimate moments, as she moved with him, the Crown Prince couldn’t help but reach out and grab—those lively “bunnies” were now too large to hold in one hand.

After recovering from childbirth, Cheng Wanyun officially returned to her duties and quickly reclaimed the top spot on the Concubine Attendance List at Yuqing Palace. She dominated the rankings for over a month, with no signs of stepping down anytime soon.

Meanwhile, Tang Gege, who had managed to enjoy a few rare evenings with the Crown Prince during A Wan’s pregnancy and postpartum confinement, was left feeling despondent.

But Tang Gege had already made up her mind—pursuing the Crown Prince any further seemed futile. She resolved to focus on self-reliance instead. She didn’t harbor deep resentment toward Cheng Wanyun either. After all, favor was something no one could force. Could she really tie the Crown Prince down and keep him from seeing others? In the end, it was his choice.

Moreover, Tang had spent time with Cheng Wanyun and knew she wasn’t the type to intentionally create conflict or show off. If she were, she wouldn’t have allowed Tang to visit and chat with her daily during her confinement.

After the foolish incident during the Mulan hunt, Tang completely let go of her grudges.

She didn’t blame anyone else. The truth was simple—she just wasn’t good enough to catch the Crown Prince’s eye.

Instead of wasting energy on hatred and resentment, which brought no benefits, she decided to focus on gaining more authority within the palace. Tang Gege had already taken on several responsibilities, such as managing the gardens of Yuqing Palace, issuing entry badges for lower servants and laborers, and overseeing the sewing and distribution of new clothes for the palace maids and eunuchs.

But these were considered “miscellaneous tasks,” and Side Concubine Li tightly held onto all significant responsibilities, not giving an inch to anyone else.

However, with the Emperor’s earlier decree to add a connecting hall and a new courtyard to Yuqing Palace, the construction had now been completed. That new space remained unassigned and was technically within the “front section” of Chunben Hall, a domain Side Concubine Li couldn’t interfere with. Tang Gege planned to take charge of this area.

The Crown Prince regularly used Chunben Hall as his study and residence, but the new courtyard was intended for a long-term purpose, as envisioned by the Emperor—housing and educating future imperial grandsons.

Tang Gege was determined. If she could secure the managerial rights to that courtyard, she believed it would eventually provide her a legitimate opportunity to stand before the Crown Prince with dignity.

She had been discreetly planning this for quite some time. She didn’t intend to approach Side Concubine Li for help—Li’s favor was hard to earn, and besides, her little prince had been suffering from a persistent cough for over a month. With Side Concubine Li preoccupied with her son’s health, she likely had no energy to worry about these matters.

Meanwhile, Mama Ling, who was preparing to leave the palace, had been keeping an even lower profile recently. Rumors were swirling that the Emperor was considering replacing the Grand Minister of the Imperial Household Department, and this decision was reportedly prompted by none other than the Crown Prince himself.

Thus, Tang Gege decided to seek Cheng Wanyun’s help instead.