February 4th.
It’s always a bit cold around the Spring Festival.
But the snowfall I’d been waiting for never truly came.
Early morning.
I stood on the balcony, gazing up at the overcast sky. “Su Liumeng, do you think it’ll snow again?”
I had checked the latest weather forecast.
Before the words left my lips, snowflakes began to fall, swirling and dancing from the sky. In no time, it turned into a heavy snow, clusters of snowflakes as big as cotton balls, fluttering and leaping through the air.
I lifted my still-innocent little face, unable to resist catching a crystal-clear snowflake in both hands, staring unblinkingly as it gradually melted in my palm.
Su Liumeng gently draped a light down jacket over my back, her voice warm, “It’s snowing outside—cold! You should come back inside, there’s heating.”
I pouted and retorted, “No.”
“I just want to play in the snow for a while, why do you keep trying to get me to go inside?”
After speaking, I stood with hands on my hips, facing off with Su Liumeng. “Are you about to say, ‘There’s a kind of cold that you think is cold?’”
Yin energy quietly flowed through my meridians.
I was like a cold-blooded animal capable of keeping a constant temperature.
Even though my daily body temperature was lower than most, the outside cold didn’t bother me or make me any colder.
I wasn’t really cold-blooded, either.
More like a warm-blooded animal—just with a different ‘warm.’
Anyway.
With a body temperature several degrees below zero, and a fairly thick coat, I still didn’t feel cold.
“The balcony is such a big space—it’d be a waste not to use it… It’s so rare to see a heavy snow like this. Why don’t we build a snowman?”
Su Liumeng didn’t object to my suggestion.
I wasn’t in the best shape to bend down, so I could only watch her scoop up the accumulating snow again and again.
Fortunately, today’s snow fell thick and fast, soon piling up a heavy layer across the balcony.
Midway, Su Liumeng ran back to the living room.
When she returned, I stared blankly at the small shovel in her hand.
Wasn’t that the sand shovel I bought for my daughter?
“No shovel in the house—this will have to do,” Su Liumeng explained.
My look grew stranger.
I wanted to help, but Su Liumeng forced me to stay in my seat under the patio umbrella. “Just sit quietly, the ground is covered in half-melted snow. If you slip and fall, you’ll cry all night again.”
She made it sound like I was some kind of crybaby.
I haven’t been one for a long time, okay?
An hour later.
The snowman was finished, about as tall as me. I could reach out and put eyes on its face.
I took the two grapes Chun Qiao brought me. “Let’s use grapes. I like purple pupils—they look livelier than carrots.”
“You just want to eat them,” Su Liumeng added in a ghostly tone.
Grape in hand, I froze, giving her a sharp look. “So you think you’re clever.”
“Who likes eating carrots, anyway?”
“Chun Qiao!”
I called back, “Bring me that silk scarf—what’s it called—the one for me.”
“I remember it was given by a small family as tribute.”
“I don’t remember. Things from other people always feel off to wear. It’s perfect for the snowman.”
With the scarf wrapped around it, the snowman instantly looked elegant and noble.
I circled it a few times, insisting on dragging Su Liumeng in for a ‘family photo’ with the snowman.
And how could you say Zhizhi, growing inside me, wasn’t in the photo too?
Ding-dong—
“Mission accomplished!”
I looked at the new pop-up on my Moments, smiling so happily that a tiny tiger tooth showed.
“Let’s go back in.”
“Mm.”
After all that playing, I was pretty tired, so I said, “Let’s go!”
Just as I was about to step off the balcony, I instinctively clutched my belly. My whole body went weak, and Su Liumeng, frightened, instantly shifted into her half-dragon form and scooped me up in her arms.
“Baby, what’s wrong?”
“Don’t scare me!!?”
My face was pale, and I could barely get the words out.
It was my first time experiencing contractions—even though it didn’t really hurt, I was still caught completely off guard.
The sinking sensation in my lower abdomen sent cold sweat dripping down my face.
My small hands gripped tighter and tighter. I forced out a line through gritted teeth, “Put me on the sofa, and don’t touch me after that.”
Su Liumeng had no choice but to obey.
She watched me on the sofa, legs curled and feet bent, fidgeting like an ant on a hot pan, only stopping short of pacing in circles.
No matter how calm someone is normally—
When it’s your own wife in trouble, you’re bound to panic.
“Miss, is she going into labor?” Chun Qiao suddenly asked.
“No, if she were really in labor, she wouldn’t let me just put her on the sofa.”
After catching my breath, I managed a complete sentence, glaring at everyone in the living room, “It’s just false contractions.”
“I know… it’s normal.”
“It’s just, why does it hurt so much for me!!”
This was more than a little pain—I could hardly breathe a moment ago.
This was not just being caught off guard.
During real labor, a special hormone is secreted to lower the mother’s pain.
I recalled other people’s experiences.
Was it really this painful when the time came?
“Su Liumeng, pinch me.”
“Why would I pinch you?”
“I said pinch me, so do it. Am I not your wife?”
“It’s exactly because you’re my wife that I can’t pinch you. That’s domestic violence!”
“Three.”
Face still pale, I slowly raised my small hand.
The room went quiet, my fingers threatening to become a V.
Su Liumeng had never seen me this fierce, so she chickened out and, bracing herself, gently pinched my soft arm. The skin was so tender that even the slightest pressure left a faint red mark.
“Hiss—”
“Something’s not right.” I frowned prettily. “Is my pain sensitivity too high?”
Of course I wouldn’t admit—
I couldn’t bear to pinch myself, so I made Su Liumeng do it.
“Does it really hurt?” Su Liumeng looked at the mark on my arm.
“Yeah, it really does.” I replied earnestly, “I haven’t been hit in a while, so I didn’t even know I was this afraid of pain.”
Su Liumeng gave me a weird look.
How did that sound like missing out on a beating was some kind of regret?
I ignored Su Liumeng’s muttering.
Just—very annoying.
“How many shots at most for an epidural?” I glanced at Su Liumeng.
“Theoretically four.”
“But didn’t you say you wanted a natural birth? There’s some difference between natural and painless delivery.”
“I know, I was just asking.”
“If I can avoid medicine, I’d rather not. It might affect my daughter’s innate qi circulation. If the baby can’t cultivate, I’ll definitely pick the painless option. But now…” I deliberately stretched my words, then smiled softly. “I’m not dead yet. No use worrying about tomorrow’s troubles today. Xiaomengmeng, I’ll leave this tough job to you.”
With my playful tone, Su Liumeng couldn’t be as carefree, and the pressure was on her.
Shi Xinyan’s way of coping with labor was to pass all the stress to Su Liumeng.
Shi Xinyan herself was visibly happy, while Su Liumeng was the one feeling overwhelmed.
And not just a little overwhelmed.
Su Liumeng insisted she’d be fine—she wasn’t an ordinary person, after all.
But.
If baby was really that afraid of pain, could she make it through?
After resting a bit longer and making sure I was okay, I stood up from the sofa. “I’m going to watch some TV.”
“I’ll go read medical books again.” With Su Liumeng’s learning skills, she should’ve graduated by now, but suddenly she felt unprepared, like she could never study enough.
The TV was playing my favorite cartoons.
Yes, my favorites…
Ever since Shi Zhiruo called me childish, as a mom, I could only admit I liked this stuff…
The due date is only an estimate, not a guarantee that labor will begin right on time.
It can happen before or after the due date.
I was so sure just now that it wasn’t time yet, because Shi Zhiruo hadn’t woken up to talk to me.
My daughter told me before, before she’s born she’ll force herself to wake up one last time.
So I felt at ease letting them move me to the sofa.
On the children’s channel, there was a cartoon I’d never seen before, not just something for little kids.
I liked cartoons aimed at kids around twelve, maybe trying to make up for all the TV I missed in my childhood.
February 9th.
Shangguan Xiyue: [I’m back in Beiqing, handling checks on students staying at school for the break.]
[I’ll come see you in a couple days.]
I replied: [Mm, mm. Don’t worry about me, I’m fine, nothing’s going on right now.]
At the computer, I rarely logged into a game.
The new season had long started, but I was nowhere on the leaderboards.
I thought about how Yan God, who’d dominated the rankings for years, fell off just because of pregnancy. It made me a little emotional.
After I posted about getting married and pregnant, my name shot up into the top ten trending searches for a whole week.
Shi Xinyan herself was just an unknown nobody.
But the name Yan God carried real weight.
If I wanted to cash in on Yan God, I’d have been financially free ages ago.
Yan God was the purest part of my youth.
I turned down countless business offers, not wanting to taint my last bit of clean ground.
Wait—
That’s not quite right.
My fingers paused for a second on the Star Game login screen.
Even if I never used Yan God’s IP to make money, in a sense, I’d already cashed out.
Didn’t I get a sweet, soft wife out of it?
So how could I say it hadn’t worked out?
And, I was financially free anyway.
I fell silent, then stopped thinking about it, and hit Enter, bringing me back to the main lobby of Star.
The forum’s top pinned post was the one I’d left a while ago, still pinned by the moderators. To this day, lots of my little fans still left comments under it.
I picked a few of the most frequently asked questions and replied to them all together.
[Personal matters—can’t say much for now, but here’s a hint: Yan God is still a college student. If fate allows, maybe you’ll run into me on campus.]
[After giving birth, I’ll return to school and finish my studies.]
[As for my other half, let’s call her S for now.]
[S is someone who loves me very, very much. Every day with S is full of happiness, and I always look forward to the next day, wondering what new surprise awaits me.]
[It’ll be soon—when the baby is born, I’ll show her to you all.]
Newborn babies all look pretty similar, their features not fully grown, so there’s not much risk of privacy issues.
After thinking it over, I bit my lip and added another line.
[I’ll keep playing the game.]
[It’s the one I’ve put the most into, and that’s been with me the longest.]
[You can all look forward to seeing me chase the rankings again.]
I opened my profile. The once-glorious number one spot was long gone, and I hadn’t played a single game this season. The profile icon was a dull gray, looking nothing like the gold streak that used to shine across the page.
“In the future, if I get the chance, I’ll play again.”
I muttered, a bit regretfully, and quit the game, watching the screen fade to black.
I knew I was only comforting myself with that wish.
I… am completely different now.
The future—
Who knows if I’ll ever have time for games again?
Coaxing the baby not to cry, feeding her, changing diapers.
Putting her to sleep, squeezing my schedule with cultivation, daily chores all crowding my time—I could never be like before.
When I was young, the Su family wouldn’t let me watch TV.
But I managed to sneak in a lot of game time under the guise of ‘research.’
My grades were always good, so no one ever suspected.
In the bedroom, I was alone.
I finished the last embroidered pattern on the baby’s little clothes.
All this time, sewing in fits and starts, I’d made four or five outfits—overall, I was satisfied.
Infants under a year are still very fragile, so they’re usually wrapped in swaddling.
Swaddling has two parts: the sling and the blanket.
Babies wrapped in swaddling generally wear diapers.
The first two things I made were swaddling clothes.
The rest are for when my daughter can walk.
Kids two or three years old can wear pretty little dresses.
How tall is a three-year-old?
About a meter, enough to talk, run, make mischief, and chase the village geese around waving their arms.
Not long after shutting down the computer, I felt my belly drop and tighten again.
This time, alone in the room, I lay on the bed, clutching the blanket to keep from making a sound.
“Mommy.”
“It doesn’t hurt, doesn’t hurt.”
“Baby will blow it away for you.”
At some point,
Shi Zhiruo had briefly woken. Seeing me in so much pain, tears welled up in her eyes and she didn’t know what to do.
I forced a smile. “Mommy doesn’t hurt anymore.”
“Baby’s blowing really works.”
Shi Zhiruo stopped crying, still clutching her hands into little fists. “When I’m born, I’ll never let Mommy cry again.”
The little one made a solemn vow.
“Zhizhi is already a little grownup. You even know how to care for Mommy,” I said with emotion. “Time flies.”
Shi Zhiruo suddenly spoke, “Mommy, I’m almost born now. You should start getting ready.”
“Probably…”
After thinking a few times, she confirmed, “It should be at most another week.”
“Okay.” Each word took effort, but I still tried to answer.
“Mommy, you don’t need to talk anymore.”
After that, Shi Zhiruo said no more, afraid that speaking would make me suffer more pain.
After about half an hour, I could finally stand up. I wiped my back and felt a thin layer of sweat.
It was winter, and even with the heat, sweating in a draft wasn’t comfortable, so I simply changed into fresh clothes.
In the living room, the two maids were still busy in the kitchen.