In her room, Cong Wei Yang was sitting around a rosewood table having a drink of tea. In her mind she'd done nothing wrong and Feng Huang wouldn't punish her for she's his wife and the daughter of General Cong. No way would her risk her father's wrath for a mere woman not if he wanted his support.

At Cong Wei Yang's courtyard, Feng Huang stood there looking at the building. Servants in the courtyard looked at him as he walked passed them into the courtyard. They had heard the screams and saw the bloody sheets being carried from the Second Madam's courtyard.

Feng Huang walked into the room Cong Wei Yang's in, waving away the servant who was about to announce him. He doesn't know what happened in those few minutes of seeing Cong Wei Yang but he saw red.

Feng Huang had his hands around Cong Wei Yang's throat, ready to squeeze the life out of her. Cong Wei Yang had long fainted away.

His child, his first child was now dead. No matter what Kuchen tells him, the fault lies with Cong Wei Yang.

Cong Wei Yang's maid was beside him on the ground, pleading and begging him to spare her mistress life. A small hand enclosed around his trying to pull his hand away but it was futile.

"Huang-er, Huang-er! What are you doing? Do you want to be known as a wife murderer? Huang-er!"

The cloud in Feng Huang's mind clears and he took his hand away from Cong Wei Yang' throat watching her fall to the ground. Sorrowful, he turned towards his mother with mother with hatred in his eyes. Feng Huang looked at Cong Wei Yang on the ground in disgust.

"If she's alive, call the doctor. If she's dead bury her." He stated before walking out.

Feng Huang stormed out of the room and back to courtyard to Da Fan. All this time his Madam Feng called after him.

Heavy clouds of sorrow poured heartache over his heart. Da Fan was lying on the bed, sleeping peacefully and unaware. The bloody sheets were gone and so was the body of his child.

"Where is it?" he asked Kuchen, was fluttering around Da Fan

Kuchen handed him a small wooden, highly decorated box, in it his child lay wrapped in silk white cloths. Feng Huang brushed his hand over the box.

"How is she?"

"Well, her fever is down."

"Does she know?"

"No, she wasn't conscious when it happened and hadn't woken since you left."

"How do I bury my child and keep my wife safe at the same time?" Do I forget my child and not mourn him to protect my wife? Or do I mourn him and my wife...?"

"Mourn with her." Feng Huang looked at Kuchen. "Mourn with her and heal together."

Kuchen left and Feng Huang continued to watch Da Fan sleeping. He spent the entire time wondering how he was going to tell the new when Steward Xin announced his mother.

"Huang-er, what's the meaning you nearly killing Cong Wei Yang?"

"She's still alive, isn't she?"

Madam Feng face twisted in anger, at the same time she noticed Da Fan on the bed.

"What's the Second Madam doing here? Didn't I talk to you about this already Huang-er. Slighting the First Wife for another wife. You need to learn balance."

"It's the very reason why I listened to you that cause this."

"What do you mean?"

Feng Huang let out a dry laugh. "If the First Wife was a virtuous woman in the start she wouldn't have plotted to kill the Second Wife."

Feng Huang explained it all to Madam Feng; the punishment, his discovery, her pregnancy and the deceased child.

Madam Feng clutched at her heart. "It can't be the medicine is it..."

"Is it the cause? Might be a possibility, you gave it her you should have expected it.", Feng Huang knew it was cruel of him to say that but he felt resentful. "It could also be the punishment or that it just wasn't meant to be."

Madam Feng

The regret flowed through Madam Feng veins and deadened her mind. It was a poison to her spirit, dulling her and killing off her other emotions until it was the only one left. Her heart ached for Da Fan, she knows how it feels to lose a child.

"Have you told her?"

"She hasn't woken up yet."

Feng Huang paid his mother no further mind and Madam Feng left the room the quietly, leaving the couple in solitude.