A Tale of Broken Hearts and Splendid Silks

South Carolina, Year of the First Enlightenment.

This years rainfall was exceptionally abundant. Just after the first frost, the light rain began to fall, drifting in through the window and dampening the corner of a blue sleeve.

Emily had been confined to this small courtyard for two months, not allowed to step out of the door without Robert Wilsons permission.

Footsteps sounded inside the house, but Emily did not turn around, her gaze wandering elsewhere.

After a moment of silence, someone came up and casually draped a scarlet cloak over her, his voice as enchanting as ever, "Why dont you wear more? Its raining outside, be careful not to catch a cold."

Emily turned her head and saw Roberts handsome face.

She sneered, but obediently pulled her hand back from the window.

Roberts gaze slid to her waist; she was four months pregnant, not yet showing, and her waist was still slender.

He smiled and asked gently, "Have you been able to eat recently? Has the little one been kicking around these past few days?"

"Husband, do you really want me to give birth to this child?" Emily stared intently at his face, not missing a single expression.

Caught off guard, Roberts smile froze on his face, and after a long while, he said with resentment, "Which servant has been gossiping in front of you?"

Emily gave a bleak smile, "My father had many wives and concubines, and I grew up in the backyard. Ive seen all kinds of underhanded tactics. The entire Pear Cottage is filled with your people. The medicine the doctor prescribed for me, whether its for preserving the fetus or inducing an abortion, you naturally know in your heart."

Robert was silent for a long time before he said in a hoarse voice, "Dont hate me. This child must not be born."

The doubts in her heart were answered, and Emilys heart sank to the bottom. She could no longer care about her pride and knelt down, pleading with Robert, "My mother-in-law is seriously ill, and I am also very anxious. But how can we believe the words of that wandering Taoist? He said this child is a curse to his father and grandmother, and you want to kill him. If that mad Taoist said it was me who was the curse, would you kill me too?"

"Master, the medicine is ready." On the redwood tray was a bowl of dark medicinal juice.

Robert looked at Emily, his expression complex. After a long while, he reluctantly said, "Serve the lady the medicine."

Two agile maids stepped forward.

Emily knocked over the redwood tray, and the medicine bowl shattered on the ground, the liquid seeping into the bluestone floor and disappearing in an instant.

She clutched Roberts sleeve, tears streaming down her face, "What kind of father are you? Even a tiger does not eat its cub, yet you want to kill your own child? You are worse than an animal."

At this moment, she was not a daughter enjoying her mothers love, not a daughter-in-law of the Wilson family, but a desperate young mother.

Roberts face was expressionless, and he said coldly, "Go and make another bowl for the lady."

The sound of a slap rang out, and five red fingerprints appeared on Roberts pale face, striking and alarming.

The servants were silent, no one dared to step forward.

Emily used all her strength in that slap, "I married into the Wilson family at the age of fifteen, and these two years, I have not done anything to be ashamed of in front of you and the Wilson family. Why are you treating me like this? This child is also of the Wilson bloodline, why cant you accept him?"

Robert slowly opened his thin lips and said one word at a time, "Its just that he was not born at the right time."

What a right time! The Robert in front of her was no longer the tender and affectionate husband. Emilys heart ached.

The steaming medicinal juice was brought in again.

Emily staggered to her feet. Robert wanted to help her, but she pushed him away.

Robert finally showed a trace of reluctance, he turned his back and looked out the window, gesturing to the room.

The maids immediately stepped forward to hold Emily.

"How dare you!" Emily struggled desperately, but the maids did not dare to use too much force and were actually broken free by her.

"No need for you, Ill do it myself!" Emily wiped away her tears, took the medicine bowl, and drank it all at once.

Robert slept very restlessly that night. In the middle of the night, he suddenly heard a servant quietly report, "Master, the lady at Pear Cottage has had a miscarriage!"

"What did you say?" Robert suddenly got up.

Inside the gauze curtain, it was impossible to see Roberts expression. The young servant mustered up his courage and said again, "Master, the lady at Pear Cottage has had a miscarriage!"

After a long silence, Robert slowly said, "I know, you may go."

The servant quietly retreated, and the room was terrifyingly quiet. Robert stretched out his right hand and examined it carefully. In the dark night, the color was indistinguishable, and only the slender fingertips could be seen.

It was this hand that ordered the killing of his own flesh and blood.

Robert suddenly felt a bit disgusted with himself, and he wearily closed his eyes.