The sun is high in the sky.
But the sky over the capital is dark, the clouds are heavy, the air oppressive, as if a storm is about to break, making the already sultry weather even more suffocating and irritating.
Song Ci fiddled with the prayer beads in his hand, his lips, full of wrinkles, pressed into a straight line. Looking at the gloomy sky, his old face seed dark enough to drip water.
There’s been no sound from the delivery room for a long ti, and the servants in the main courtyard dare not speak loudly, tiptoeing as they walk, especially when they see Song Ci’s expression, each wishing they could beco invisible.
The Lady began to show signs of childbirth late at night, but now several hours have passed, it’s almost noon, yet the child is not born. Everyone knows this delivery of Song Madam is very dangerous, who would dare bring bad luck to the family?
"Madam."
A soft call ca again from the delivery room.
Song Ci’s hand trembled, he turned around and, looking at the delivery room, hesitated to enter.
Nanny Mu had already returned to serve by his side, and seeing this, she said, "Lady, is it ti?"
Song Ci sighed and, leaning on her hand, walked in. As soon as he entered, he saw Liu, the midwife, with a face full of fear, taking small steps towards him, saying with a bitter expression, "Lady, I can’t handle this."
"You have been a midwife all your life, haven’t you honed your skills long ago? Why can’t you handle it?" Song Ci’s expression was unpleasant.
Liu, the midwife, wore a mournful expression, saying, "Madam is giving birth at an advanced age and has always been delicate. We common won dare not use force; even this strength has caused her to faint twice. We fear that if we try harder, even if we manage to turn it around, Madam won’t have the strength to give birth."
Song Ci listened and his expression darkened further.
Strength is what won need most for childbirth. In these ancient large families, the won have never lifted a finger, always surrounded by servants, never having done any hard work, where would they have any strength? Unless she regularly exercises and practices martial arts, but Song Madam isn’t; she’s always been a pampered noblewoman.
Without strength, how can she give birth?
Lin Qing accompanied Imperial Physician Liu over, both looking sowhat worried.
"Looking at Madam’s condition, I’m afraid she can’t hold on," Lin Qing said solemnly to Song Ci, "Imperial Physician Liu and I have discussed; how about trying a breech birth?"
Song Ci was startled, "Is there any guarantee?"
Imperial Physician Liu stroked his beard, saying, "There are cases of successful breech births, but it relies on the skill of the midwife. If only one foot erges, it needs to be pushed back in, then wait for the other foot... of course, this is a last resort, whether the child can be born and if it’s a live birth, depends on fate."
No doctor dares to guarantee 100%, not even a master of Chinese dicine. Leaving a margin for oneself is also leaving a way out.
Song Ci still wanted to hold out for a while, "The amniotic fluid hasn’t broken yet, should we wait?"
Lin Qing and Imperial Physician Liu exchanged glances, saying, "If it hasn’t broken, you can wait, but the fetus is already engaged, can’t wait any longer."
Song Ci’s heart skipped a beat.
The fetus is engaged, no turning back, it has to be born, even if induced.
Could heaven really be testing the Song Family, testing Song Madam, the Lady?
Old Lady, if you’re watching this from wherever you are, bless your eldest son’s wife and child with safety, otherwise, if the nightmare cos true, what will happen?
Boom.
A thunderclap roared, the wind blew in, and in the delivery room, Chen, the midwife, cried out, "The water broke!"
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