Childbirth and Helena Hsieh’s Distressed Pregnancy

The Emperor, stifled by Serena's defiance, found her increasingly intolerable. Disregarding imperial dignity, he declared, "Serena Feng, at least you know your place. Someone as dull and foolish as you is unworthy of the Phoenix Empress Hairpin, a token honored as the Mother of Eastlyn. Attendants, take the Phoenix Empress Hairpin from Miss Feng's hand and send it to the Imperial Ancestral Temple. I will have it enshrined before the spirit tablets of the late Emperor and Empress."

"Your Majesty..." For Serena, the Phoenix Empress Hairpin was her protective talisman. Hearing this, Imperial Noble Consort Helena Hsieh could barely stay standing, guilt flooding her heart.

If she hadn’t summoned Serena into the palace, none of this would have happened—it was all her fault…

The Emperor ignored Imperial Noble Consort Helena Hsieh and didn’t care about Serena’s opinion. He simply ordered the Phoenix Empress Hairpin taken away.

The Emperor made no attempt to maintain his dignity, forcibly confiscating the Phoenix Empress Hairpin from Serena’s hand. Yet he’d found a perfect excuse; Serena had no grounds to object, either emotionally or logically…

Serena’s expression remained perfectly calm, showing not the slightest pain at losing the hairpin. This earned her a grudging glance from the Emperor, but even so, he still loathed her.

"Serena Feng, you relied on the late Emperor’s gifted Phoenix Empress Hairpin to defy me. Out of regard for your youth and ignorance, I’ll spare your life. But you cannot escape punishment…"

His meaning was clear—he fully intended to punish Serena. The Empress secretly rejoiced, knowing her earlier humiliation had not been in vain. But her happiness didn’t last; an unexpected disaster struck…

Just as the Emperor was about to announce Serena’s punishment, there was a loud thud—Imperial Noble Consort Helena Hsieh suddenly collapsed to the ground.

"Ah… my child, my child!" Helena Hsieh cried out in agony, blood flowing down her thighs and quickly soaking her clothes.

The cry shocked not only the Emperor and the Empress, but even Serena was stunned—she saw that Imperial Noble Consort Helena Hsieh had deliberately thrown herself to the ground, all to prevent the Emperor from announcing Serena’s punishment.

An emperor’s words are law—if the Emperor had said it aloud, Serena would not have escaped punishment today. But if he never spoke it, no one could do anything to her.

Helena Hsieh’s sacrifice was painstaking and deliberate.

"My love..." The Emperor ignored Serena and rushed straight to Helena Hsieh’s side.

No matter what, Helena Hsieh was carrying the imperial heir—the Emperor couldn’t help but worry. He’d placed great hopes in this child.

The Empress was visibly anxious, circling Helena Hsieh, but inside she cursed Helena for falling at just the right moment—why not earlier or later? Of all times, she had to fall when the Emperor was about to punish Serena. It was a stroke of luck for Serena.

"Your Majesty, it hurts so much... our child... please, save our child." Helena Hsieh was drenched in sweat, her whole body trembling as she clung tightly to the Emperor’s arm, utterly dependent.

"Don’t worry, my love. With me here, you and our child will be safe. Imperial physicians! Summon the imperial physicians at once!" the Emperor shouted, showing just how much he valued his offspring.

"Your Majesty... it hurts so much." Helena Hsieh kept gripping the Emperor’s hand, refusing to let go. Even in agony, she didn’t forget to shoot Serena a look, signaling her to slip out of the palace amid the chaos.

Once outside the palace, with Ninth Royal Uncle protecting her, the Emperor wouldn’t dare touch Serena.

Serena’s nose stung; she silently nodded but didn’t leave. Instead, she stood just outside the crowd.

Helena Hsieh’s fall was real—even though she was already close to term, it was dangerous. The imperial physicians were skilled, but all of them were men. If something went wrong, they wouldn’t be able to help her. Serena had to stay.

Helena Hsieh had risked everything for her—how could Serena abandon her now?

Helena Hsieh was in too much pain to stay calm. Once she saw Serena had understood her signal, she stopped worrying about her and focused entirely on her child. She’d tried to shield her belly during the fall, but there was no guarantee against hidden dangers.

A soft palanquin arrived; palace maids and eunuchs helped Helena Hsieh onto it. She finally let go of the Emperor’s hand, but didn’t forget to play the pitiful role one last time: "Your Majesty, I’m so afraid."

"Don’t be afraid. I’m here." At this moment, the Emperor had no thought for Serena—he took the Empress and hurried toward Radiant Hall. The Empress did remember Serena, but in a blink, realized she had vanished.

You might dodge trouble today, but not forever. The Empress whispered a few words to her old matron, who nodded and left to carry out her orders…

After slipping away, Serena planned to find a friendly consort to lead her to Radiant Hall. She’d barely walked a few steps when she ran into Concubine Ivy, out for a stroll.

Concubine Ivy was happy to do Serena a favor. As soon as Serena asked her to quietly escort her to Radiant Hall, Ivy agreed without hesitation.

After all, it was just a discreet favor for Serena. If trouble arose, Ivy could always claim ignorance. Besides, with Helena Hsieh giving birth, Ivy was supposed to pay her respects anyway.

"Just blend in with the palace maids. Your clothes aren’t conspicuous today, and Radiant Hall is in chaos—if you don’t push to the front, no one will notice you."

Concubine Ivy was shrewd—she had the palace maids change into clothes matching Serena’s. With everyone dressed alike, Serena was even less noticeable among them.

When Serena reached Radiant Hall, the whole compound was in turmoil. Everyone looked grim; palace maids and imperial physicians kept silent because Helena Hsieh’s cries were growing weaker and weaker.

Imperial physicians, being men, couldn’t enter the birthing chamber. They had to wait outside while only the midwife and female medical attendants rushed in and out. Helena Hsieh screamed in agony, basins of blood were carried out one after another, but there was still no sound of a child. The physicians tried to diagnose through a thick curtain, their faces growing darker with each pulse reading.

"Your Majesty, Her Ladyship’s body is dangerously weak. She may not last much longer."

As soon as the physician finished speaking, the midwife rushed out, dropped to her knees with a thud, and cried, "Your Majesty, I am powerless—Her Ladyship is in difficult labor. Do you wish to save the mother or the little prince?"

During childbirth, this is the question families fear most.

Save the mother or save the child?

Whenever a doctor asks this question, every expectant father agonizes over the answer. But an emperor never hesitates over such things.

If the Emperor truly loved Helena Hsieh, it might be different. But he only cared about the child she carried. He answered without a second thought: "Save the little prince."

"As you command, Your Majesty." The midwife, having received her orders, would no longer care whether Helena Hsieh lived or died.

Helena Hsieh was in such pain that her mind was nearly gone, but somehow, she heard the Emperor’s words—"Save the little prince"—with perfect clarity.

"Ha...hahaha..." Barely clinging to life, Helena Hsieh suddenly let out a low, broken laugh, tears streaming down her face—though none of the laughter reached her eyes.

She’d always known she meant little to the Emperor, but hearing his heartless answer still made her heart twist in pain.

This was the man she, Helena Hsieh, had chosen—her husband, her Emperor... and this was who he truly was.

"Ha...hahaha...sob...sob..." Helena Hsieh’s laughter turned to sobs, filling the birthing chamber with a suffocating sense of despair.

"Please, Your Ladyship, don’t cry—seeing you like this makes us all ache inside." Inside the birthing room, Helena Hsieh’s chief maid and the female medical attendants couldn’t help but feel heartbroken for her.

But in the palace, every woman faced the same fate. To the Emperor, losing one more woman meant nothing. If Helena Hsieh died in childbirth, even the Hsieh family would not protest...