Loved By The Emperor (MPREG)

The silk-draped tent exuded an air of opulence, the brazier crackling softly against the chill of the evening. Han Changhua sat stiffly on the cushioned stool, her fingers twisting the embroidered handkerchief in her lap. Before she stood Lady Han, her mother, who paced with the deliberate strides of a predator circling prey. The heavy tension in the air was palpable, thickened by the absence of servants and maids—deliberately sent out under Lady Han's orders.
"You useless girl," Lady Han hissed, her voice low but venomous. "Years of planning, of sacrifice! I clawed my way through the ranks of scheming concubines to make your father's house what it is today. I raised you with care, taught you everything you needed to know to rise above the rest, and this is how you repay me?"
"Mother—" Han Changhua started, but Lady Han cut her off with a sharp glare.
"Silence! Not a son. Not even the emperor's favour to show for it. And now Han Changning—that little wretch—dares to flaunt her child before us? Before you?" Lady Han's voice cracked with emotion, her carefully composed mask slipping. "How could you let this happen?"
Han Changhua's eyes glistened with unshed tears, but her voice was steady. "Do you think I haven't tried? Do you think I don't know what's at stake? I bore the emperor's child once, but it was stolen from me!" Her voice broke on the last word, her trembling hands clutching the handkerchief tighter. "That poison robbed me of my child. And my place."
Lady Han paused, her sharp eyes narrowing. "And yet, it was your failure to secure his affections that left you vulnerable to such treachery. If you had captured his heart as I instructed, no one would have dared—"
"I did what was required of me!" Han Changhua snapped, her temper flaring. "Do you think it was easy, Mother? Do you think I wanted to scheme, to sully my own name? That night at the banquet—"
Lady Han's face darkened, her voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "You dare speak of that night with disdain? If not for my plans, you would still be languishing as a daughter of a mere chancellor, destined to marry some lowly court official."
Han Changhua's lips pressed into a thin line, but she remained silent as her mother continued.

"Do you think I wanted to sacrifice your virtue?" Lady Han's tone turned biting, her words cut deep. "But what choice did we have? The emperor himself set foot in our manor that night. An opportunity like that comes but once. And I made certain you were the one who reaped the benefit."
Han Changhua's mind drifted unwillingly to that fateful evening—a private banquet at the Chancellor's Manor, where the air had been thick with incense and wine. She had been carefully dressed, her every movement rehearsed under her mother's sharp eye. The emperor had been young, handsome, and untouchable, his presence casting a long shadow over the gathered officials.
The wine had been drugged, a concoction prepared by Lady Han's trusted apothecary. Han Changhua had been sent to the emperor's chambers under the guise of serving tea. What followed was a blur—a moment of vulnerability exploited, her fate sealed the moment the sun rose, and they were found together.
Lady Han had wept and wailed, her voice echoing through the halls of the manor. "My poor daughter's innocence! Stolen in the night! How can the Han family bear such shame?"
The emperor, his expression cold and unreadable, had relented only to preserve his alliance with the Grand Chancellor, who had offered unwavering support during his rise to power. Han Changhua was brought into the harem, her rank low but her position secure—until she was found to be with child.
"You were given a gift most consorts only dream of," Lady Han's voice snapped Han Changhua back to the present. "Pregnancy! The emperor's heir, a son who could have secured your position as empress."
"But that gift was poisoned," Han Changhua whispered bitterly, her hand drifting to her abdomen, the memory of her loss still raw. "Do you think I don't know who was behind it? Han Changning, Yang Liqin, any number of those vipers in the harem..."
"And whose fault is it that you allowed yourself to become their target?" Lady Han's voice rose. "You knew the stakes. You knew how many eyes would turn against you the moment your pregnancy was revealed."
Han Changhua's jaw tightened. "And yet I still rose, did I not? Despite the poison, despite the whispers, I am guì rén, the Imperial Noble Consort."
Lady Han scoffed. "Not by your own merit. Do not forget, girl, that it was your father's influence that forced the emperor's hand. When the child was announced, your father gathered his allies and sent wave after wave of petitions. 'The emperor's heir cannot be born to a lowly consort,' they said. And when the emperor refused, it was the Empress Dowager who struck the final bargain to save face."
Han Changhua's hands trembled with rage. "Do you think I am proud of how I gained my title, Mother? Do you think I don't know what the court whispers behind my back?"
"Pride is a luxury we cannot afford," Lady Han snapped. "You must bear a son, Changhua. You must reclaim what was stolen from you. And you must destroy anyone who dares to stand in your way—including your own sister."
Silence fell between them, heavy with unspoken threats and shared ambitions. Han Changhua stared at the flickering brazier, the flames reflected in her dark eyes.
"I will bear a son," she said finally, her voice like steel. "And when I do, no one will dare question my place in the harem. Not Han Changning. Not Bai Yu Chen. No one."
Lady Han's lips curled into a satisfied smile, though her eyes remained sharp. "See that you do. For your sake—and mine."
The grand banquet pavilion stood resplendent under the glow of hundreds of golden lanterns. Silk banners embroidered with imperial insignias hung elegantly from towering poles, their vibrant hues softened by the evening breeze.
At the head of the hall, the emperor sat upon an elevated platform, his phoenix eyes surveying the gathering below. His presence commanded the space, even in stillness. To his left were the military generals and senior officials, while the noble families occupied the tables to his right. At the farthest end of the pavilion, the harem consorts and palace gers were seated according to their ranks.
The herald's voice echoed across the hall. "All rise! His Majesty, the Son of Heaven, addresses his loyal subjects!"
The assembled guests rose to their feet, bowing deeply as the emperor stood. His robes, embroidered with golden dragons, shimmered under the lantern light as he stepped forward.
"Tonight," he began, his voice calm yet resonant, "we gather not only to celebrate the royal hunt but to honour the unity and prosperity of our empire. May this feast remind us of the strength that lies in harmony and the vigilance required to protect it. Let all here strive to uphold the balance that sustains our great dynasty."
A ripple of agreement followed his words, and the guests lowered themselves back into their seats as the emperor returned to his place. With a subtle nod, he signalled for the festivities to begin. Servants flowed into the hall like a well-rehearsed dance, bearing trays laden with delicacies. Roasted quail, steamed crab, and fragrant rice dumplings were placed before the guests, each dish a masterpiece of flavour and presentation. The sweet scent of plum wine wafted through the air as golden goblets were filled and refilled.
The sound of guzheng strings filled the air as musicians began their performance, the hauntingly beautiful melody weaving through the conversations. Dancers entered the hall in perfect synchronization, their silk robes fluttering like butterfly wings as they performed an intricate routine. At his seat near the far end of the consort section, Yu Chen toyed with the stem of his goblet, his mind far removed from the pomp and splendour around him. The soft strains of the guzheng and the faint chatter of nobles blurred into a distant hum, barely registering over the pounding of his thoughts.
Tomorrow, he reminded himself. Just survive tonight and tomorrow... I'm free.
He glanced toward the emperor's elevated table. The emperor's calm and composed demeanour gave no hint of the deadly cunning Yu Chen had come to expect. Does he know? The question gnawed at him as it always did, and he quickly pushed it aside. If the emperor suspected his intentions, surely he wouldn't be allowed to sit here now, sipping wine like everyone else.
Still, Yu Chen's nerves felt frayed, and he reached for his goblet again. The wine was rich and sweet, with a faint tang that burned pleasantly as it slid down his throat. For a fleeting moment, the warmth of the alcohol dulled the tension knotting his chest, allowing him to breathe a little easier.