Chapter Thirty: Eavesdropping

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In the main hall, Qin Haizhou’s wife instructed the servants to serve tea to the Crown Prince Yang Yaozong and the other two, then led several ladies to the rear courtyard to prepare lunch. As Qin Haizhou’s daughter left the hall, she looked back at Yang Yaozong with a trace of reluctance.

Taking a sip of tea, Yang Yaozong remarked, “Brother Qin, Zhilan is truly adorable, and both your wives are dignified, gentle, and well-educated. You are indeed blessed.”

Qin Haizhou nodded, somewhat troubled. “It’s just a pity that I have so few children. After seven years of marriage, I only have Zhilan, a single daughter. Alas!”

The Crown Prince immediately interjected, “General Qin, you’re only thirty, strong and full of vigor. This, um... well...” He seemed at a loss for words, fumbling awkwardly, for he was only thirteen.

Upon hearing the Crown Prince’s words, both Yang Yaozong and Qin Haizhou glanced at him with some embarrassment, then exchanged a knowing look. After all, the Crown Prince was merely thirteen years old—such matters were not fit for detailed discussion in his presence. Yang Yaozong had only made a casual comment and hadn’t expected Qin Haizhou to answer as he did, much less the Crown Prince to respond in kind.

Sensing their expressions, the Crown Prince realized they thought him too young to discuss such matters and, sitting up straight, coughed twice, his face flushing as he declared earnestly, “Don’t judge me by my age. I know quite a bit, and at the end of this year, I will... I will be married.” His face reddened even more as he finished.

Yang Yaozong was aware that, in this era, men could marry at thirteen, women at fifteen. However, most families wouldn’t marry their sons off so early, as men were the main labor force and it was best for them to have some ability before marrying. Only among the wealthy and powerful did early marriages occur. Especially now, with the royal family’s dwindling descendants, the Crown Prince had just turned thirteen and the Emperor had already arranged his marriage. Yang Yaozong had heard that the bride was the sixteen-year-old youngest daughter of Zuo Qiutang, Minister of War.

Though the Crown Prince was precocious, he was still a youth. Seeing Yang Yaozong and Qin Haizhou so obviously hesitant to discuss men’s matters in his presence, he grew anxious, straightened his face, and asked seriously, “General Qin, have you consulted Doctor Mu?” At his age, awakening to such curiosities, he was eager for knowledge in this area, yet had never found anyone to discuss it with, learning only from miscellaneous books and understanding only partially. Too embarrassed to ask others, he finally seized this opportunity to talk with Yang Yaozong and Qin Haizhou, both of whom he knew well. Still, just because he was open didn’t mean the other two felt the same.

Qin Haizhou, reluctant to continue such a conversation, could only force himself to answer as the Crown Prince had asked. “I have. Doctor Mu has examined both my wives and me, and found nothing amiss. He prescribed many tonic remedies. I believe there shouldn’t be a problem—after all, I do have Zhilan.”

The Crown Prince frowned, pursing his lips, pondering where the issue might lie, adopting a physician’s contemplative air.

Yang Yaozong, seeing the Crown Prince’s troubled expression and Qin Haizhou’s embarrassment, smiled, “Having a daughter is a blessing too. Whether one has a single child or ten, as long as one is filial, that’s better than ten who are not. In my eyes, sons and daughters are the same, both being born from their parents’ flesh and blood.”

Qin Haizhou smiled wryly. “That may be true, but a daughter must one day marry and belong to another family, while a son can inherit the family business. If I had a son, I’d have him train in martial arts with me from a young age, following me onto the battlefield to defend the Great Zhou. A daughter cannot do that; she can only be cherished and indulged.” Suddenly recalling that Yang Yaozong was a live-in son-in-law, he realized this may have been inappropriate to say and looked at Yang Yaozong apologetically.

Yang Yaozong didn’t mind. “Actually, whether a child is male or female is determined by the man, not the woman.”

At these words, the other two in the hall were stunned. Especially the Crown Prince, who quickly became eager to learn, asking, “Yang Yaozong, is that really true? How do you know this? I’ve never heard of such a thing—did you read it in a book? Since ancient times, it’s been said that the woman’s womb decides the child’s sex. Many books record this.” Mentioning a woman’s womb, he grew even more embarrassed, his face flushed red, nearly to tears.

Qin Haizhou too was astonished, never having heard that the man determines the child’s sex; he stared at Yang Yaozong in amazement and curiosity.

Yang Yaozong immediately regretted his words. He had inadvertently uttered something far beyond the understanding of this era. How could he possibly explain? Could he discuss sperm and eggs with the Crown Prince and Qin Haizhou? Could he talk about chromosomes? He frowned in vexation, “Well... I’ve forgotten which book I read it in, but I definitely saw it. I wouldn’t say such a thing lightly. Please, Your Highness, Brother Qin, do not speak of this to others.”

Seeing Yang Yaozong’s earnestness, they both nodded. Honestly, since he couldn’t provide a reason, they weren’t inclined to believe him, thinking he had read it in some obscure book. Otherwise, how could such an important point be so easily forgotten? Qin Haizhou, though a military man, read occasionally, and the Crown Prince had, from his earliest days, been widely read—especially this year, delving into many books on the relations between men and women. He was certain he had never encountered what Yang Yaozong had just said. They both assumed Yang Yaozong was only trying to comfort Qin Haizhou.

None of the three realized there was someone else outside the hall, hiding by the door and eavesdropping. This person, about seventeen or eighteen, was slender and delicate, with a refined and beautiful appearance—Qin Haizhou’s younger sister, Qin Xueyao. She had originally left with her sisters-in-law, but curiosity about Yang Yaozong and their conversation drew her back to eavesdrop. Servants passing by were puzzled by her presence, but she quickly signaled them to move along. No one dared provoke her, not even her own brother; seeing her eavesdropping, they simply pretended not to notice.

Qin Xueyao hadn’t expected such a topic but blushed fiercely, listening on with determination. Whenever Yang Yaozong spoke, she found herself nodding in agreement, thinking, “I didn’t expect this man’s words to be so agreeable,” while inwardly despising her brother’s comments.

When she heard Yang Yaozong say that the child’s sex depended on the man, not the woman, her face turned even redder, her heart thumping wildly. She frowned in deep thought, unable to recall reading this anywhere. She wanted to hear Yang Yaozong’s explanation but was disappointed when he claimed to have forgotten the source. While skeptical, she resolved to ask Mu Qinghan to verify—after all, Mu Qinghan’s medical skill was even greater than her father’s. If Mu Qinghan didn’t know, then she could conclude whether Yang Yaozong was fabricating to comfort her brother.

Yang Yaozong, seeing the Crown Prince and Qin Haizhou still pondering his statement, coughed and said, “Since Doctor Mu examined both you and your wives and found nothing wrong, there should be no major issue. However, there are some factors that can affect fertility—well, they’re rather private matters...” He too blushed, hesitant to continue.

Qin Haizhou, sensing that Yang Yaozong knew something but was too embarrassed to ask, grew anxious, sweat beading on his forehead as he gazed intently at Yang Yaozong. “Brother Yang, if you have something to ask or say that could help my situation, please just speak plainly. There are only three men here, nothing to be embarrassed about. You’ll drive me mad with suspense!” At this point, he no longer cared that the Crown Prince was still a boy. In his eyes, Yang Yaozong was a learned scholar, recognized by the Emperor and appointed as the Crown Prince’s tutor. What sort of talent did it take to be the future monarch’s teacher?

The Crown Prince nodded eagerly, twice affirming Qin Haizhou’s words.

Qin Xueyao, curious yet apprehensive about what Yang Yaozong would say next, hesitated between leaving and staying, ultimately continuing to eavesdrop.

Blushing, Yang Yaozong asked, “Brother Qin, are your marital relations... um, normal?”

Hearing this, Qin Xueyao’s mind went blank, all the blood rushing to her head. Her face grew as red as an apple, and she fumed inwardly at Yang Yaozong’s boldness, yet she kept listening.

Qin Haizhou, anticipating the question, also blushed. “Normal—well, in this regard, your Brother Qin is quite capable.”

Yang Yaozong nodded thoughtfully, then asked, “I wonder, Brother Qin, do you have a particular preference for... positions during intimacy? And, um, the final posture when... finishing?”

At this, Qin Xueyao desperately wanted to leave. She couldn’t imagine what other mortifying questions Yang Yaozong might ask. Her head spun, breathing grew difficult, and though she wanted to go, her legs were weak, tears threatening to spill as she crouched by the wall.

Yang Yaozong’s questions grew ever more intimate. Faced with such personal matters, Qin Haizhou’s face turned deeper red, and he stammered, “I... usually prefer to be underneath, with my wife on top... and it ends that way as well.” He lowered his head, embarrassed.

Seeing the burly Qin Haizhou so shy, Yang Yaozong found it rather amusing. “Well, that may be the issue.”

Qin Haizhou, surprised to hear that the problem might lie in their choice of position, asked, “Why? I’ve always done this, yet we had Zhilan.”

Yang Yaozong thought, “If Qin Haizhou and his wife were able to have a child, there shouldn’t be a major problem between them. But the lack of further children, even after taking a concubine, suggests the issue lies with Qin Haizhou—perhaps a low sperm count or poor motility. Moreover, the position he prefers is not conducive to conception. No wonder his wives haven’t conceived again.” After pondering, he said seriously, “In that case, Brother Qin, you might try different positions during intimacy, or just use the classic man-on-top, woman-below posture. And when you finish, make sure to plant your seed as deeply as possible. Don’t withdraw too quickly; maintain the position for a while before moving. Also, when you’re done, it’s best to elevate your wife’s hips so the seed doesn’t flow out.” Yang Yaozong spoke as tactfully as possible, choosing his words to avoid embarrassment, and by the end, was drenched in sweat.

Since the questions turned so private, the Crown Prince said nothing further, his face still red but his attitude earnest, eager to learn.

Outside the door, Qin Xueyao was desperate to stop listening, but even covering her ears couldn’t block Yang Yaozong’s voice. Inwardly, she cursed him countless times—for talking about positions, postures, seeds. Shameless! Vulgar! A scoundrel! No wonder Sister Mu slapped him—he deserved it. Flustered to the point of nearly fainting, she steadied herself against the wall and slowly slid down, sitting weakly on the floor. Yet, she never reflected on whether her eavesdropping was itself shameless or base.

Seeing Yang Yaozong’s seriousness, Qin Haizhou, his face alight with hope, thought that if this truly was the issue, then a solution was at hand. Delighted, he almost wanted to rush to the rear courtyard to try immediately with his wife and concubine. Despite his embarrassment, he gazed at Yang Yaozong with bright eyes, saying, “Brother Yang, if I’m blessed with a son, I’ll have him call you godfather!”

Yang Yaozong smiled. “I’m only making an educated guess, Brother Qin. If you want a son, you must continue to work hard.”

Qin Haizhou grinned and nodded vigorously. No matter whether Yang Yaozong’s advice worked or not, his long-standing anxiety was, for the moment, greatly alleviated.