During the two hours Mr. Ren was away,
Jing Mian couldn’t sleep at home.
He had been thinking for a long time.
His mind was in turmoil. People often start recalling their own words or others’ words after calming down, and this time, it was clearly the latter.
For example, when Mr. Ren suddenly mentioned… the baby matter.
Not long after the same-sex marriage policy was announced, the concept of technological childbirth gradually entered public awareness. From applying for a cultivation pod to the baby actually arriving in this world, it still took ten months.
However, he heard the application conditions were very strict, and the procedures were quite cumbersome.
But currently, these weren’t the real problems worrying Jing Mian.
…Because he wasn’t entirely sure.
Was that just his husband’s casual dirty talk in the heat of the moment, or did he genuinely have such plans?
Due to last night’s physical exertion and lack of sleep, once Mr. Ren left, the bedroom felt empty and somewhat lonely.
Jing Mian managed to stay awake for a while before becoming drowsy and nodding off.
Until his phone rang and woke him up.
Groping for his phone, Jing Mian saw it was Doctor Pei calling.
He answered quickly: “Doctor Pei.”
“Hello, Xiao Jing.” Doctor Pei paused slightly: “Were you sleeping?”
“No, I just don’t have classes today.”
The afternoon’s C programming language class was unexpectedly canceled. The professor had notified the group chat the day before, but Jing Mian only learned about it the next morning from his husband.
Jing Mian asked: “Is something the matter?”
Doctor Pei’s voice was gentle: “Nothing urgent. It’s been almost two months since we last met, right?”
“Your medication must be running low? If you’re free, you could come by for a checkup while refilling your prescription.”
Jing Mian quickly sat up: “Alright, I’ll come over now.”
The medication was indeed almost gone—only three pills left in the small box. He’d forgotten about it these past few days, but Doctor Pei had remembered for him.
Jing Mian said: “Thank you.”
Doctor Pei laughed: “What’s there to thank? You sound like such a grown-up.”
Jing Mian got out of bed, changed into warm clothes, and zipped up his jacket.
Mr. Ren had said he’d be back in two hours. Jing Mian calculated that only half an hour had passed. If he took a taxi to the hospital now, got the medication, and returned, he might just meet Mr. Ren coming back.
Jing Mian decided to buy two bowls of wonton soup on the way back.
He’d say he was hungry and went out to buy food, bringing a bowl for Mr. Ren too.
As his slippers touched the floor, Jing Mian felt his legs slightly weak.
The area connecting his calves to his ankles still felt soft, swollen, and light.
He held onto the railing while going downstairs, put on his shoes, and just as he stepped outside, the cold air brushed against his face, making him squint.
When he looked up again, he saw a man in his thirties nearby who looked somewhat familiar.
Jing Mian quickly searched his memory and recalled that this was likely the new driver Mr. Ren had recently hired, surnamed Ye. The previous driver had taken a few months’ leave due to family matters.
The man soon noticed Jing Mian too.
With a smile, he greeted: “Mr. Jing?”
Jing Mian stopped and nodded slightly, responding: “Master Ye.”
Seeing Jing Mian dressed neatly and coming from the courtyard, Master Ye asked: “Are you heading out, Mr. Jing?”
Jing Mian nodded.
Master Ye smiled and said, “Let me drive you there. I just had the car serviced, and it’s parked in the garage ready to go anytime.”
Mr. Ren had a dedicated driver for his schedule, while Master Ye was responsible for household matters.
To be precise, Master Ye was Jing Mian’s personal driver, fully in charge of his transportation.
Jing Mian’s thoughts raced for a moment, but he couldn’t come up with a reason to refuse.
He nodded and said, “Thank you for the trouble.”
Besides, having Master Ye drive him would indeed save more time.
Master Ye turned to fetch the car from the garage, saying, “No need for formalities, Mr. Jing. It’s my job.”
Jing Mian took the passenger seat, and when Master Ye asked where they were heading, he didn’t mention the hospital directly. Instead, he named a spicy hot pot restaurant across from the hospital.
Master Ye chuckled upon hearing this. “Young folks these days really love this stuff. I read news about people taking trains or high-speed rails just to try certain spicy hot pot places, ordering the spiciest options. Mr. Jing, don’t eat it too spicy—it’s bad for your stomach. President Ren would worry if he found out.”
At the mention of his husband, Jing Mian’s ears perked up. “Master Ye, let’s not mention this trip to Mr. Ren.”
Master Ye understood immediately. “My lips are sealed. Don’t worry, Mr. Jing.”
Jing Mian nodded, relieved.
Along the way, Master Ye chatted cheerfully with Jing Mian, his smile unwavering, clearly in high spirits.
Even Jing Mian noticed. After passing two more blocks, he couldn’t help but ask, “Master Ye, has something good happened recently? You seem in a great mood.”
The man paused, his smile deepening. A little embarrassed, Master Ye said, “Actually, it’s about my baby.”
“His name is Ye Xian.”
“He’s just three months old. Yesterday, he learned to prop up his upper body while lying on his stomach. When someone asked who his daddy was, he lifted his tiny hand and pointed at me.”
“Though it’ll be months before he can talk, he already recognizes who his father is.” Master Ye’s pride was unmistakable. “I was so happy I couldn’t sleep last night.”
Jing Mian was momentarily stunned before offering, “Congratulations.”
“Thank you, Mr. Jing.” At the next red light, Master Ye slowed to a stop and pulled out his phone to show Jing Mian a photo from his album. “Look, this is him propping himself up for the first time. He held it for twenty seconds.”
Jing Mian lowered his gaze.
He studied the photo, then his eyes widened slightly. “…So cute.”
The compliment was genuine.
Master Ye put his phone away, slightly abashed. “I must be one of those annoying parents who can’t stop showing off their kids. Sorry about that.”
Jing Mian shook his head. “Not at all. Your baby is beautiful.”
…
Before getting out, Master Ye parked the car a short distance from the restaurant.
Jing Mian watched the car drive off before crossing the street to the hospital opposite.
He knocked on the door and entered after hearing Doctor Pei’s response.
The doctor motioned for Jing Mian to sit across the desk and poured him a cup of steaming water.
After some small talk, Doctor Pei asked, “How have you been these past two months? Any episodes?”
Jing Mian replied, “Yes, twice.”
Doctor Pei’s pen paused. “Twice?”
“Mm.” Jing Mian hesitated briefly. “The second one might not count.”
“My younger brother brought me medicine, so it didn’t fully escalate.”
Doctor Pei asked, “What triggered them?”
Jing Mian said, “When I went back to the Jing family home.”
Doctor Pei frowned. “I thought so.”
“How long was the interval between the two episodes?”
Jing Mian thought for a moment: “About a month.”
“That’s much more frequent than before. It had previously stabilized, and I was considering reducing medication dosage and extending follow-up intervals.” Doctor Pei typed on his computer and sighed: “Try to avoid going back to your family home as much as possible in the future—it’s not good for your recovery. If you can’t refuse, bring your husband with you.”
Jing Mian felt this suggestion was feasible but too impactful, especially for Jing Guozhen and Li Qiao.
Moreover, the Jing family was his weakness, carrying too many negative emotions—not a side he wanted to show Mr. Ren.
So even when ill, Jing Mian didn’t want to use his husband as a shield.
But these reasons couldn’t be explained to Doctor Pei, so Jing Mian gave a small nod.
Doctor Pei asked detailed questions about the episodes and prescribed medication. Near the end of the consultation, Jing Mian hesitated for a few seconds before asking: “In my current condition… am I unsuitable to be around children?”
Doctor Pei: “?”
“Of course you can. Jing Luo gets along very well with you.” Doctor Pei asked, “Why do you ask?”
“No.”
Jing Mian seemed to weigh his words carefully: “Younger than Jing Luo… like an infant.”
Doctor Pei took a few seconds to process this before smiling: “Are you considering having a baby? Congratulations.”
Jing Mian froze, his ears suddenly burning: “It’s not confirmed yet. I haven’t discussed it with my husband.”
“Oh.” Doctor Pei smiled warmly: “Congratulations anyway.”
Jing Mian smiled too.
Then, he asked softly:
“Am I suitable?”
Doctor Pei: “Hmm?”
The doctor looked puzzled, not understanding Jing Mian’s meaning.
Jing Mian’s expression remained neutral, without overt self-doubt, as if genuinely asking:
“Does someone like me have the right to raise a child?”
…
…
“Of course.”
Doctor Pei felt a pang of heartache. He pressed his lips together and said, “You’ll be a wonderful father.”
“Jing Mian, your first consultation as a child was with me, all the way until you graduated and married. I’ve practically watched you grow up.”
Doctor Pei continued slowly: “You deserve all of this.”
“And raising a child isn’t a solo endeavor. Your partner will be there with you through the process. This new experience might even make you an even better person.”
Jing Mian held a disposable paper cup.
The steam from the water rose gently, misting his eyelashes, damp and diffuse.
Jing Mian whispered:
“I… I’ll think about it.”
As he left the hospital, Mr. Ren’s call came through.
Jing Mian lowered his gaze and answered.
It turned out Mr. Ren had already returned home but couldn’t find him. Jing Mian realized his husband wasn’t late—he was nearly half an hour early.
Ren Xingwan asked: “Where are you now?”
Jing Mian swallowed.
He couldn’t mention the hospital, and the spicy hotpot was even harder to explain—compared to that, instant noodles suddenly seemed harmless.
Jing Mian casually named a location near the hospital:
“Century Plaza.”
Mr. Ren’s voice came through the phone: “I’ll pick you up.”
Jing Mian paused, answering guiltily: “Okay.”
Mr. Ren’s voice deepened slightly: “I’ll be there in about twenty minutes.”
“Don’t wait outside.”
Jing Mian responded with a soft “Mhm.”
He said, “I’ll send you my location.”
After hanging up the call.
Jing Mian pocketed his phone and walked toward the square.
As he walked, he felt the cold creeping through his collar and into his neck.
He thought Mr. Ren probably hadn’t noticed anything unusual.
Although he had shown a pitiful side in front of the man last time, from his husband’s perspective, it was likely just attributed to his low spirits due to the Jing family matters—hardly would he connect it to Jing Mian being ill.
Suddenly, Jing Mian remembered that before leaving home, he had intended to bring Mr. Ren some wontons.
So he stopped and walked toward the familiar wonton shop at the corner, only to find it closed today.
Jing Mian felt a little disappointed.
Although Mr. Ren had told him not to wait outside, there were no shopping malls near the square—just standalone shops. After circling around, Jing Mian spotted a long stone staircase leading to the square in the distance.
The many steps meant the spot where Jing Mian stood was quite elevated.
From this vantage point, dozens of stone steps high, he could overlook a vast stretch of the square, watching people like himself turn into tiny figures below.
So, Jing Mian sat down on the topmost step.
After sending his location to his husband, he zipped up his jacket to keep the cold out.
Jing Mian sat there alone, lost in thought.
He didn’t know how much time had passed—just that it slipped by aimlessly.
Until he felt a weight settle on his shoulders.
A thick coat draped over him, carrying residual warmth and a faint, familiar scent, wrapping him securely and silently shielding him from the cold.
Even the hood was pulled up.
Obscuring a small part of Jing Mian’s vision.
His heart skipped a beat.
—It was Mr. Ren.
When Mr. Ren appeared, he crouched slightly in front of Jing Mian, meeting his gaze at eye level.
“Why sit here?” the man asked softly.
His hands were also enveloped by his husband’s, the chill gradually replaced by warmth.
Jing Mian suddenly felt like every part of him was being protected by Mr. Ren.
“I’m not cold,” Jing Mian explained.
“Husband.”
Ren Xingwan: “Hmm?”
Jing Mian lowered his head, his lashes casting shadows.
Then, he suddenly reached up, unzipped his jacket, and carefully pulled something out from inside. “…The wonton shop we like was closed,” he said.
“So I bought roasted sweet potatoes from an old man’s stall nearby.”
Jing Mian spoke quietly, “They’re still hot.”
“Brother used to buy them for me when I was little.”
Holding it with both hands, he offered it to the man crouched before him and asked tentatively, “Do you still eat these, Husband?”
Mr. Ren’s gaze froze.
As if time had stopped, the man remained silent for a long while.
So long that Jing Mian thought he wouldn’t accept it.
Ren Xingwan reached out, took the still-warm bag, and said in a low voice,
“I’ve always liked them.”
Jing Mian blinked and silently handed him the other one as well.
So both had been bought for Mr. Ren.
His husband took it.
“Want to go home?” the man murmured.
Wrapped in the coat, Jing Mian nodded.
Just as Ren Xingwan was about to stand, a hand lightly tugged at the hem of his clothes.
The palm and fingertips of that hand were still slightly red, as if scalded by the freshly roasted sweet potatoes.
When he looked up, his eyes met the other’s gaze.
Jing Mian pressed his lips together, seeming a little nervous, his voice soft:
“Mr. Ren.”
“Let’s have a baby.”