Locking the Moon and Green Mountains: Half-Word Silver Hairpin Daughter's Makeup

Concubine Li held the midwife's hand, her knuckles turning as white as ice. The cry in the delivery room was as weak as a cat's meow. It was not the eldest son she had bet on, but a baby girl with delicate features. The baby boy in the dark room is sleeping soundly, but this baby girl is a candle that must be extinguished.