Chapter Three: The Passage Between Life and Death (Part Two)

These men had spent years stationed at the frontier; their knowledge about pregnant women was virtually nonexistent. When they relocated Yu Nianci, the midwife was so startled she nearly froze. Yet, despite their clumsy efforts, they finally arrived at a room barely spared from destruction.

Once Yu Nianci was laid flat upon the bed, a pale red blood continued to seep beneath her. This left Cheng Yuyan and the others utterly helpless.

The midwife cried out, “It’s time! Hurry out, all of you! Leave this to me.”

“Ah, but… we…”

Seeing them rooted like posts, the midwife urged, “Why are you still standing there? Get out, quickly! If you wait any longer, not even gods or Buddhas can help!”

Though deeply concerned for the Princess and the heir, they understood their presence would be of no aid, so they obediently waited outside as the midwife instructed.

She gazed grimly at Yu Nianci, who bled ceaselessly, momentarily at a loss herself.

But Yu Nianci suddenly opened her eyes, her clarity never sharper. “I know my condition. If fate decrees this, I have nothing more to say. Please, save the child within me. He has never seen this world; he should not suffer such calamity.”

The midwife nodded, sweat pouring from her brow. “I’ll do my utmost.”

Yu Nianci’s brows locked in agony. She endured the fierce pain, grasping the midwife’s arm tightly.

“I don’t want you to do your best—I want you to save him, whatever it takes.”

Outside—

“Brother, if both mother and child perish, what are we to do?”

“Indeed! If something happens, those above will blame us. Many envied this assignment—who could have guessed disaster would strike? We’re not the sort who can bear such consequences.”

“Third Brother’s right. Didn’t we just catch Xiao Zhao? Who would have thought that maid was an assassin for the Imperial Guards? I say, both the Prince’s residence and the court are far too treacherous; best keep our distance.”

Old Eight, hearing their complaints, rolled his eyes and suggested, “Hey, why don’t we use this chance to escape? There’s still some valuables in the Prince’s mansion. We could pack up and return home, then…”

Sitting by the door, Cheng Yuyan remained silent, listening to their chatter until he could no longer sit still.

He rose, his towering form moving slowly toward Old Eight.

Old Eight lowered his head, stammering, “If you disagree, Brother, pretend I never said anything…”

Before he could finish, Cheng Yuyan lifted him effortlessly, his imposing face wordless, terrifying Old Eight into trembling and begging for mercy.

The others quickly pleaded, “Brother, Old Eight only meant well. For his good intentions, let him off this time!”

Cheng Yuyan stared impassively at Old Eight, who knew his brother was truly intent on killing him; without the others pleading, he’d likely have died then and there.

“This is your last warning. If you say such things again, I will kill you.” Cheng Yuyan released him, and Old Eight stumbled awkwardly as he hit the ground.

Seeing Cheng Yuyan return to his spot in silence, the others dared not speak further. They waited quietly outside, hoping for news from within.

A single raindrop suddenly struck Cheng Yuyan’s face. He looked up: a dark cloud rushed toward the ruined marketplace, and before long, the drizzle became a torrential downpour, beating fiercely upon their armor.

“Brother, shouldn’t we check inside? It’s been so long, yet we’ve heard nothing!” Second Brother spoke first; though he’d never fathered a child, he knew there should be some sound during childbirth.

Still, Cheng Yuyan remained unmoved, his gaze distant, lost in thought.

Seeing this, Second Brother sighed and returned to his place.

Inside, Yu Nianci had already perished. On the table lay a sheet of yellow paper, stained with fresh blood.

Her belly had been cut open by a blade; trembling hands pulled forth the crying infant from her blood-soaked abdomen.

The midwife, cradling the newborn who wailed incessantly, gazed mournfully at Yu Nianci’s emptied body. She then bowed respectfully, child in arms.

A stick of incense earlier—

Yu Nianci, aided by the midwife, tried to deliver the child herself.

But her injuries and blood loss left her too weak; every attempt failed.

Enduring the agony, she smiled faintly, a smile devoid of joy, filled instead with despair.

She reached out shakily, pointing at the yellow paper on the table, and whispered, “Bring it here.”

The midwife, flustered by Yu Nianci’s grave condition, quickly complied.

Yu Nianci took the paper, her eyes flashing with resolve, and bit down hard. The midwife watched, knowing full well what Yu Nianci intended.

“As for the rest, I leave it to you.” Yu Nianci handed the bloodstained letter to the midwife, her expression serene.

With trembling hands, the midwife accepted it, reluctant. “Must it be so?”

Yu Nianci, tears in her eyes but liberated in her smile, replied, “Seems… cough… there’s no other way! Do it quickly!” With that, a dagger appeared in Yu Nianci’s hand, and, to the midwife’s cry, she ended her own life with a single stroke.

Back to the present, the battered roof could no longer withstand the rain, and inside, water began to fall. Damp air filled the inn, and the infant’s cries, symbolizing a new life, also mourned another’s passing.

Cheng Yuyan took a deep breath, finally relieved, and pushed open the door. Witnessing the scene, he showed no shock, anger, or any emotion. He removed his helmet, kneeling beside Yu Nianci’s bed, and bowed his head, his voice low and somber: “Farewell, my lady. I, Cheng Yuyan, will personally deliver your son to Prince Su. May you rest in peace below.”

He stood, approached the midwife, and took the child. Unlike other newborns, this little one seemed filled with curiosity—within five minutes of birth, his eyes opened.

He gazed around this unfamiliar world, his expression far too mature for his age, puzzled by his surroundings.

“What is happening? Where am I? I remember crawling in the rain, pain overwhelming me before I lost consciousness. This place looks just like a historical drama set—have I been rescued by the crew?”

This was Su Bai, reborn. Strangely, his memories remained intact, and he had transmigrated into the body of this newborn.

As Su Bai pondered, he realized he was now an infant. He tried to escape the embrace, but his weak body failed him; he wanted to speak, but only managed cries. Inwardly, he despaired: “Is this… transmigration? How… how did this happen?”

Then a familiar voice spoke: “Young master, we’ll be home soon.”

It was Su Bai’s first glimpse of the people of this world. Hearing the tall man call him “young master,” Su Bai wondered, “Why do they call me that?”

Looking at their attire, Su Bai could not contain his astonishment: “I… could it really be transmigration?”

There was no time to think further as armored soldiers surrounded him. Their faces showed heaviness, sorrow, and pity.

“Brother, what about the lady’s body?” Second Brother asked, others equally solemn.

Cheng Yuyan tore the cloak from his back and wrapped it around Su Bai. He looked up: “This rain comes and goes quickly. May you, young master, grow swiftly and shape your own fate.”

He turned to the group, serious: “Our only task now is to escort the young master home safely. The midwife comes with us; Prince Su will decide her fate.”

Though the midwife was reluctant, she followed in silence.

At last, the group reached Su Mansion. Cheng Yuyan, about to knock on the door, hesitated, unable to bring himself to do it.

Second Brother sighed, patting his shoulder. “Brother, you need not blame yourself. The Imperial Guards’ plan was too thorough—no one could have anticipated it.”

Cheng Yuyan nodded, composed himself, and knocked.

He was surprised to find Su Qing opening the door.

Cheng Yuyan lifted Su Bai with both hands, knelt, and said with guilt, “Your Grace, I failed in my duty. The lady… she…”

Before he could finish, he felt himself lifted upright.

Su Qing stood before him, silently gazing at the child, his face unreadable.

After a long while, he said quietly, “I know everything. You are dismissed.” He took Su Bai from Cheng Yuyan.

“Your Grace… these are the lady’s last words.” Third Brother handed over the yellow paper.

Su Qing glanced at Third Brother; the paper floated to his hand as if alive.

“Then… I’ll take my leave.” Cheng Yuyan and the others withdrew, the midwife among them.

Though Su Bai was a transmigrated adult, his body was that of a newborn. Soon, he fell asleep, unaware his new father was watching him.

Su Qing, holding Su Bai in his left arm, opened the bloodstained note with his right: “I do not seek the phoenix to stand in the world, only that the pine and cypress endure forever.”

He repeated these words, tears finally streaming down his cheeks. “Nianci, it’s my fault. I claimed I’d protect you and our child, yet…

From the moment I met you in the desert, I knew you alone filled my heart. Rest assured, I will raise our son, leave him wealth, and entrust loyal men to guard him, so he may live out his days in peace. Once I settle the western campaign, I will join you below.”

He looked at the sleeping Su Bai, murmuring, “Let the pine and cypress endure… You shall be called Su Bai.”

With that, he sent a surge of inner energy into Su Bai’s body. In his sleep, Su Bai felt warmth envelop him, sleeping more soundly. On his back, a python-headed tattoo appeared, its snake eyes hypnotic and demonic.

Su Qing summoned the steward—his most trusted man—and whispered, “Si Guo, take the young master to…”

“Yes, yes, not a word will leak.” Li Siguo, who had shared life and death with Su Qing on the battlefield, was the safest guardian for Su Bai.

As Li Siguo took Su Bai and prepared to leave, Su Qing called out, “Give the midwife extra money!”

“I understand. I’ll ensure she’s dealt with before she makes contact with anyone.”

Su Qing nodded. “Go now. I wish to be alone.”

Li Siguo saluted and departed down the corridor.

Su Qing faced the empty courtyard, his heart melancholy. He clenched his fists, recalling a conversation three days earlier in Qizhou.

“Su Qing, honestly, I never wanted to treat you as an enemy. But our positions differ; we cannot walk the same path. I’ve come only to trade intelligence for your command of the frontier troops.”

Su Qing sneered at the man in black. “I didn’t expect the Chief of the Imperial Guards to idle here. Unfortunately, I’ve nothing to tell you. If you have no further business, return to the capital.”

Hearing Su Qing’s dismissive reply, Hua Wenkai arched a brow, amused. “So Yu Nianci isn’t so important to you after all! It seems our General Su places state before personal matters.”

Before Hua Wenkai finished, a large hand swept toward him, but he showed no fear, merely grunting as he halted Su Qing’s attack.

Su Qing was forced to stop, incredulous. “You’ve reached the level of Earth Immortal?”

Hua Wenkai scoffed, “Not quite, but I’m close. As for my offer—are you interested?”

“What is it you want?” Su Qing’s brows tightened, knowing the gap between them and not daring to act rashly.

“Simple! I want you to hand over the military seal and write a recommendation, appointing your deputy Xu Da as commander. If you hesitate, let me be clear: your lady will face an assassination in four days. If you set out now, you may arrive in time to save her. Delay, and I can’t guarantee her safety.”

Imperial Guards Headquarters—

A handsome man sat alone at the head seat, playing with a string of prayer beads.

The grand hall was empty, save for him reciting a Buddhist scripture.

Soon, he tossed the scripture aside. “The Buddha’s words are too profound—I can’t understand them!”

He looked up at the steel-forged qilin head above the throne, smiling for no reason.

“The pillar of Ming Dynasty, ha ha ha.”