"Sleep," she said, "I'll stay a little longer."
"You should sleep too."
She shook her head, eyes fixed on my abdomen. "I'm afraid you'll cramp again."
My heart softened, and I scooted over, giving up half the bed. "Come up, it's cold sitting there."
She hesitated for a moment, then a small smile curved her lips. She slipped off her shoes, climbed onto the bed, and lay down beside me. Carefully, she wrapped her arms around me from behind, her hand still resting on my abdomen.
"Yuzhi," she whispered in the darkness, "the imperial physician said today, the child is growing very well."
"Really?"
"Yes," her voice carried a trace of amusement, "Aunt Qin felt the pulse—strong heartbeat, a healthy child."
I placed my hand over my belly, which had begun to show a clear curve. Though my body still ached, knowing a small life was growing healthily inside made the suffering feel worthwhile.
"You think," I asked softly, "what will he look like?"
"Like you," she said without hesitation. "Eyes like yours, nose like yours, temperament like yours."
"And if he looks like you?"
"Like me is fine too," she said with a low laugh. "If he's like me, no one would dare bully him."
I turned in her arms to face her. In the darkness, her eyes shone like stars.
"Xiao Yuhuang," I whispered.
"Hmm?"
"Thank you."
She paused, then tightened her embrace, holding me closer. "Nonsense."
It was not nonsense.
I was truly grateful. Grateful that she chose to compromise when lives were at stake, grateful that she lowered herself to care for me, grateful… that she gave me the courage to be a father.
In the fourth month of pregnancy, Nanxing formally began studying medicine under Aunt Qin.
The child was exceptionally gifted, understanding herbs, reading pulses, memorizing prescriptions with ease. Aunt Qin often said that in time, he would become extraordinary. Hearing this, Xiao Yuhuang gathered countless medical texts, filling a table to the brim.
Nanxing treated them like treasures, spending all his time buried in books when not caring for me. Occasionally, when I felt well enough, he would bring a book and ask, "Sir, what does this line 'essence and blood share the same origin, mutually generating and transforming' mean?"
Though I wasn't an expert, my knowledge from my previous life remained, and I explained in terms he could understand: "It means a person's essence and blood are like water and a river, nourishing each other and inseparable. When a pregnant woman nurtures the fetus, she transforms her own essence and blood into the child's muscles and bones."
Nanxing listened intently, his face serious. "So Sir… am I right that you're exhausting your essence and blood?"
I smiled, saying nothing.
The child's eyes reddened. "Sir must take good care. Nanxing will study medicine hard, and in the future… in the future, I'll cure you."
I stroked his head. "Alright, I'll wait for you."
My belly began to show more prominently. From my originally slender frame, the curve of my abdomen finally added a soft roundness. Xiao Yuhuang loved, at night, to place her hand on my belly, feeling the baby move.
The child was lively, often active at night. Sometimes she would be speaking, pause mid-sentence, a smile spreading across her face. "He kicked me again."
I would place my hand over hers. Beneath our palms, the faint movement was slight but brimming with life.
"He's a strong child," Xiao Yuhuang said, pride in her voice. "He'll grow up to be a good martial student."
"And if he wants to study literature?"
"Then he'll study literature," she said readily. "I'll find him the best teacher."
I laughed. Now, when she spoke of the child, there was no fear—only love and expectation.
But my body's suffering did not lessen.
In addition to swollen legs and cramps, my back began to ache. Sitting hurt, standing hurt, lying down wasn't comfortable either. Aunt Qin said it was the fetus pressing on the lumbar veins, and besides heat and massage, there was nothing else to do.
Thus, Xiao Yuhuang took on another task—massaging my back every night before bed.
Her hands were strong, and at first she could not gauge the pressure, making me grit my teeth in pain. Over time, she became skillful, her technique even more precise than Chunyu's. Sometimes, as she worked, I would fall asleep under her hands.