"Never."
"Good. No one can pretend to be your mother."
Empress An said this, but the meaning was ambiguous. It sounded as if she were saying even she couldn't replace her. Fearing her words might come true, she added:
"No one can pretend to be me."
"Is that so," Chen Yi said.
He had always drawn a clear line: Zhu E was Zhu E—nobody else. In the same way, Empress An was Empress An—nobody else. Perhaps one day he would say this aloud, but that day was not today.
Empress An glanced again at the jade pendant and gently touched it. It felt smooth and warm, like fine jade, but beyond that, she could sense nothing else.
"You are about to consummate your marriage, and I am truly happy for you. I am not a wet nurse; I have never fostered a throng of sons or daughters in name. Other than you, I have never had a child."
A palace maid stepped forward to take the couplets, but Empress An waved her away, took them in her own hands, and personally handed them to Chen Yi.
