I grabbed Yuling's wrist before she could escape.
"Nope," I said. "We're doing this together. You brought it up. You're coming with me."
She looked horrified. "You are not dragging me into this."
"Oh, I am absolutely dragging you into this."
I stormed across the courtyard and burst into the study where Wei Wuxian, Lan Wangji, and Ming Yu were reviewing the latest scrolls about palace alliances or war strategies or something equally dry and noble.
Three heads turned as I marched in like a hurricane in embroidered slippers.
"We need to talk," I announced.
Wei Wuxian blinked. "Uh… hello?"
I pointed at him. "You. Sit."
He was already sitting.
Lan Wangji raised an eyebrow. Ming Yu's hand paused mid-scroll, wary. I turned and shut the door behind me, very dramatically. Yuling hovered near the corner like she was deciding whether or not to fake faint.
"This is about the heir issue," I said.
Three pairs of very alert eyes locked onto me.
Wei Wuxian tensed. "Did something happen?"
"No," I said. "Not yet. But it will. Because we all know the second someone finds out I can't have children, Yufei is going to catapult herself into your bed like never before."
Wei Wuxian winced. "That's a visual I didn't need."
Ming Yu cleared his throat and looked deeply interested in the ceiling.
Lan Wangji… sipped his tea more intensely.
I pressed on. "So. We need to be proactive."
I took a deep breath.
"And technically… if what we need is a child—not a marriage, not a romantic entanglement, just an heir—then we don't need the act itself."
All three men froze like I'd thrown a sword into the center of the room.
Wei Wuxian squinted. "I'm sorry… what?"
I waved a hand. "You don't need to, like… do it. You just need the end result."
Ming Yu choked quietly.
Lan Wangji's ears turned pink.
I continued, determined. "When a man, um, finishes—you know, at the end—he produces the… the liquid. The one that makes a baby."
Wei Wuxian's eyes widened. "You mean—"
"Yes!" I snapped. "That! Not the whole event. Just the key ingredient!"
Yuling had her hands over her face like she was praying for death.
Ming Yu looked like he might actually disappear into his robes.
Lan Wangji had gone so still I was worried he'd stopped breathing.
"You take that," I said, pointing vaguely, "and you… apply it. Inside. At the right time. And boom. Baby."
Wei Wuxian blinked several times. "Wait. That actually works?"
I stared at him. "How do you not know this?! You're a prince! Do they not teach you anything in royal education? Were you too busy sword-fighting to attend Health 101?"
He opened his mouth, closed it, then scratched the back of his neck. "I just… thought that wasn't… possible without—" He waved vaguely.
Lan Wangji looked down at his tea, as if it had just personally offended him.
Ming Yu's ears were now officially red.
Yuling, muffled behind her hands, muttered, "This is the worst moment of my life."
I sighed dramatically. "Look, all I'm saying is—if things ever get to that point, and Wei Wuxian needs an heir but doesn't want to actually… do the heir-making with someone else, there are alternatives."
A long, stunned silence followed.
Then, quietly, Ming Yu cleared his throat. "So… how would one… acquire the—"
I stared at Ming Yu.
He looked like he regretted asking.
I, however, did not plan on letting him off the hook.
"Well," I said, drawing the word out like a lecture about to go off the rails, "usually, one would wait until the man is… how do I say this politely… inspired. Alone. Preferably somewhere private. And then—well—extract it."
Ming Yu blinked. "You mean—"
"Yes," I deadpanned. "That. The classic solo cultivation technique. Swordplay for one."
Wei Wuxian dropped his teacup.
Lan Wangji flinched.
Yuling audibly gasped.
I plowed ahead anyway.
"You collect the result in . Preferably warm. Then, it can be… deposited. At the right time of the month."
Wei Wuxian looked at me like I'd just rewritten reality.
"I'm going to regret this," he muttered. "But… deposit how?"
I didn't miss a beat.
"Well," I said, sweetly, "you take the—material—and using something clean, like a small vial or maybe a silk funnel—don't ask where you'd find one—you gently introduce it to the inside of the woman's body. Ideally not cold. Ideally not too far from when it was… produced."
A long silence followed.
Ming Yu finally exhaled and broke the silence.
"…Who in their right mind would even agree to that?" he asked, voice low but firm. "It breaks every tradition we have. No woman would allow it—being used like that, not even for a prince. Isn't that… insulting?"
I blinked.
Then blinked again.
"...Maybe?" I said slowly. "Possibly. I hadn't really thought that far."
Yuling gave me a look that said of course you didn't.
Wei Wuxian leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, expression sharpening.
"Well, if someone did agree," he said, "they'd also have to never tell anyone. Not a soul. Because if this got out—how the heir was conceived without, uh, tradition—it would be a political disaster."
I groaned. "Yeah, yeah. I figured."
Then he looked at me, one eyebrow raised. "And since you're the only one who knows how this works... are you planning to administer it?"
I stared at him.
Hard.
"Administer what?" I asked sweetly. "The future of the kingdom? With a tea dropper?"
He gave me a look.
I flushed. "Okay, fine, no—I didn't think that part through!"
Ming Yu crossed his arms. "That's a fairly big part to miss."
"I was brainstorming!"
Ming Yu's expression shifted, his tone suddenly more serious.
"And what if," he said slowly, "Yufei somehow did become your concubine?"
Wei Wuxian stiffened.
Ming Yu continued, "What if she tricked you—used this exact plan to get pregnant? Do you know what that would mean?"
I felt my stomach turn before he even finished.
"If she bears your child," Ming Yu said, "her rank would rise above Mei Lin's. She'd be the mother of your heir. She'd be untouchable."
Wei Wuxian went still.
I looked at him—and suddenly felt ice in my chest.
"You think she'd try that?" I whispered.
Yuling answered instead. "She already tried to drug Hanguang-jun. Of course she would."
Ming Yu looked at me then, his gaze heavier than usual.
"If this plan ever happens," he said, "you need to be sure—very sure—who you're trusting. Because one wrong move, and Mei Lin becomes the expendable one."
Silence fell again.
And then Yuling—still quiet, still composed—spoke.
"I'll do it."
My head snapped toward her. "What?"
"If it means protecting you," she said calmly, "if it stops the Wang family from gaining more power, if it helps take back what they stole… then I'll do it."
I stared at her. The words hit like stones tossed into still water—each one heavier than the last.
"Yuling," I whispered, stunned. "Have you thought this through?"
"This is your life we're talking about," I said, stepping closer. "Your future. You'll carry his child. What about your own family? What about the husband you might've wanted? The life you could've had—"
She met my eyes then. No hesitation. Just a quiet, devastating truth.
"You know who I already love," she whispered.
I winced. The ache behind her words wasn't angry. It wasn't bitter. But it was real. Heavy in the air between us.
And Ming Yu noticed.
His eyes narrowed, shifting from Yuling to me and back again, the calculation behind them sharp as a blade.
He didn't speak. But I felt his gaze—steady, questioning.
Wei Wuxian stood slowly, his expression unusually serious—no grin, no glint of mischief. Just quiet weight in his eyes.
"Yuling," he said, voice low but steady. "Think about this clearly."
She looked at him.
"If this happens," he continued, "You will be my royal consort but …I won't be able to love you. Or cherish you. Not the way someone should. Not now. Not ever."
The silence pressed in around us.
Yuling… chuckled.
It wasn't mocking.
Just tired. Knowing.
She tilted her head and said lightly, "Because of Hanguang-jun?"
That name hit the room like a dropped blade.
Lan Wangji, composed as ever, flinched.
A sharp flicker of something passed through his expression—barely there, but unmistakable.
His fingers curled just slightly at his side, tension coiling in his shoulders.
Wei Wuxian inhaled sharply. "Yuling…"
But Lan Wangji took a step forward—only to be gently stopped by Ming Yu, who raised a hand to his chest in quiet warning.
Not here. Not now.
I saw it all unfold—and froze.
"I didn't tell her," I said quickly, holding my hands up. "I swear. I didn't tell anyone."
Yuling's gaze was soft but steady.
"I didn't need to be told," she said. "I just… see things. I've always seen things."
Her eyes slid toward Lan Wangji, then back to Wei Wuxian. "I'm not here to make anyone uncomfortable. But I'm also not blind."
Wei Wuxian's expression was unreadable—but his silence said everything. Lan Wangji, still perfectly still, dropped his gaze for a moment.
Yuling looked back at me then. A half-smile on her lips, but the pain just beneath it was still visible.
"I already said," she murmured, "I don't expect love in return. I just want to protect what matters."
"Yuling," I said, stepping closer, my voice low and trembling, "you don't have to do this. Not for me. Not for anyone."
She didn't look away.
"I want to."
That made it worse.
Ming Yu's gaze was on me. Sharp. Unmoving.
Not cold—but calculated. Like he was watching a puzzle click into place and realizing he didn't like the shape it was taking.
I looked away first.