For most women, childbirth is a brush with death, but not for Ji Xiaosong.
The palace maids finished cleaning the palace, and Chu Qingyun, Chu Yuzhe, and the Empress Dowager walked in.
Zixi and three other palace maids followed behind, each holding one of the four newborn Little Princes.
Ji Xiaosong reclined against a soft, peony-patterned pillow. Beads of sweat still clung to her dark hair, yet her lips were as vibrant as a bitten pomegranate.
The Empress Dowager's hand, adorned with golden silk armor, had just lifted a corner of the brocade quilt when she suddenly found it cumbersome. She gently placed the armor on a Twisted Lotus Pattern Porcelain Plate, the wide sleeves of her spring robes stirring a scent of Su He Xiang. "I remember when Qingyun was born, he was just a little pink dumpling. These four are quite sturdy."
