Jing Mian stood frozen in place for a long while.
He lifted his eyes to look at his husband, his expression a mix of astonishment and bewildered confusion:
“Jing Sui?”
Ren Xingwan lowered his gaze to meet his, responding with a quiet “Mm.”
Jing Mian opened his mouth, only to find his words stumbling: “Why… my surname?”
Mr. Ren’s voice was calm. “Is there something wrong with that?”
Jing Mian was momentarily at a loss for words.
When the man had asked him, he had given the baby a nickname. But he never expected that Mr. Ren would also take a liking to the name and want to use it for the child’s formal name. Regardless, Suisui’s surname should have followed Mr. Ren’s.
This marriage had been built on mutual benefit. No matter how outsiders speculated, the one who gained the most—the one seen as climbing the social ladder, was always the Jing family, both in his own eyes and in others’.
And now, this not-so-long marriage was about to bear fruit. This monumental decision had even been his own suggestion. If Suisui took the surname Jing instead of Ren…
It would be like… taking advantage and still acting coy.
That wouldn’t be fair to Mr. Ren.
Besides…
Jing Mian pressed his lips together lightly. “This surname… isn’t good.”
“It brings bad luck.” Jing Mian paused, as if recalling something. After all, he was the one married to Mr. Ren now. Even if it was his husband, hearing such words might breed resentment.
“…What I mean is, for Suisui’s future, taking your surname might be best for him.”
Jing Mian spoke softly, his lashes lowered as he looked at the incubation pod, leaving only his profile visible to Ren Xingwan.
The small space fell into a prolonged silence.
This was bad.
Jing Mian realized he had ruined what had been a tender moment. They still had plenty of time to discuss names in the future—it didn’t have to be now.
“Your surname is fine.”
Mr. Ren looked at him, his gaze shifting slightly before he spoke in a deep voice: “I am a pragmatist at heart.”
Confusion flickered in Jing Mian’s eyes.
“The person I choose will never bring misfortune.” The man’s long lashes caught fragments of light, his voice steady yet resolute. “On the contrary, in my eyes, he is better than anyone else.”
“MianMian.”
“I won’t let you fall into misfortune.”
Mr. Ren’s voice softened. “From the day we married, I became you.”
“So, don’t see our relationship as a burden.” Mr. Ren lowered his eyelids, speaking slowly and deliberately. “If you want Suisui to take the surname Ren, he can.”
“But not out of consideration for me.”
“Because at any time, you have the same freedom as I do.”
When Jing Mian looked up, his gaze met the man’s.
Behind them, the incubation pod cast a soft glow.
…
Jing Mian felt his heart pound heavily in his chest.
“I hope I’m not your shackles.”
Mr. Ren paused, then murmured, “But your support.”
“…”
Jing Mian’s throat tightened inexplicably.
A fine sting rose in his nose. He blinked hard, his fingers stiffening unconsciously before slowly relaxing.
“Okay…”
After a moment of thought, Jing Mian turned to Mr. Ren and said, “When Suisui grows up and reaches the age where he can decide for himself…”
“If he wants to take your surname, we’ll change it then.”
The man’s fingertips brushed through Jing Mian’s hair, his voice quiet as he replied, “Husband will listen to you.”
Jing Mian: “…”
His ears instantly burned.
From that day onward.
Jing Mian would come almost every day after class.
Club practice couldn’t be interrupted and lasted late into the night, but by squeezing time here and there, he always managed to carve out some moments. Between classes and after school, Jing Mian would take a taxi to the technology base just to catch a glimpse of their baby.
At first, it was almost imperceptible, but later he could vaguely make out a soft, shapely droplet inside the incubation pod.
Gradually, the droplet took on color.
Most of the time when Jing Mian arrived at the small room in the base, it was quiet.
Perhaps feeling his companionship was too dull, and considering Suisui couldn’t open his eyes yet, the only thing he could perceive was the surrounding sounds, Jing Mian went to a gift shop and bought a music box. The soothing, gentle melodies filled the tiny space with warmth and tranquility.
By the time the baby’s general outline became clearly visible, 47 days had passed—nearly half the time.
Jing Mian noticed that sometimes Suisui would react subtly to certain songs.
Though still a fetus unable to express any preferences or emotions outwardly, Jing Mian couldn’t help but feel exhilarated by these tiny responses.
Then, the first time he spoke softly to Suisui.
He noticed the baby’s body moved slightly.
To his astonishment, Suisui’s reaction, though faint, seemed more pronounced than any response to the music box’s songs before.
Pressing his palm against the glass of the incubation pod, Jing Mian’s eyes sparkled with delight.
He made sure to take photos to show Mr. Ren in the evening. Curled under the blankets, Jing Mian whispered, “This is Suisui’s little hand.”
Mr. Ren: “What about his feet?”
Jing Mian smiled, pointing lower on the screen. “Here.”
Mr. Ren rarely teased: “Growing so fast.”
Jing Mian’s eyes curved gently, his voice tender. “Because the incubation period is the same as usual, ten months.”
Mr. Ren said, “The first time we can hear the heartbeat will be April 20th.”
Jing Mian froze.
He sat up abruptly. “The national tournament.”
Ren Xingwan reached out, wrapping an arm around Jing Mian’s waist to steady him before he could topple off the bed. “What’s wrong?”
Jing Mian lowered his gaze. “That day… it’s the second day of Glory’s national tournament.”
Mr. Ren: “Where is it held?”
Jing Mian: “Right here in Lincheng, Linshui International E-Sports Arena.”
Ren Xingwan: “After you finish, I’ll pick you up.”
“At a time like this, Husband should be there, right?” Jing Mian’s fingers traced the edge of his phone beneath his pajama sleeves. “Master Ye can pick me up instead.”
Mr. Ren: “I will be there with you when we hear Suisui’s first heartbeat.”
Jing Mian didn’t understand. “Hmm?”
“Before you arrive, I won’t go to the incubation base alone.”
Mr. Ren’s light-colored pupils met Jing Mian’s gaze. The man, often perceived by outsiders as cold and reticent, now wore an earnest expression as he murmured, “This is a moment that belongs to both of us, isn’t it?”
A faint tingle spread through Jing Mian’s throat. He gave a small nod.
“Yeah.”
Mr. Ren smiled faintly, so faint Jing Mian almost missed it, and he found himself smiling back.
The man slowly released Jing Mian’s waist. “Sleep now.”
“…”
Jing Mian didn’t move, looking slightly awkward.
Mr. Ren asked, “Are you going to stream?”
“Mm.” Jing Mian lifted the blanket: “You sleep first, I’m going to the study.”
Before receiving a response, Jing Mian didn’t immediately leave the bedroom because his mask was in the bedside drawer, and the small cabinet was on Mr. Ren’s side.
Jing Mian had no choice but to speak again:
“Husband, I need to get my mask.”
“Where is it?”
“It’s fine, don’t move.” Jing Mian leaned over, one hand resting beside Ren Xingwan’s pillow, speaking softly: “I’ll get it.”
A faint fragrance brushed against the edge of the blanket.
Slowly, it disturbed the slightly heavy breathing.
Mr. Ren lowered his eyelids, his profile half-lit by the soft glow, his gaze landing on the small stretch of fair collarbone beneath Jing Mian’s slender neck.
The skin was smooth and delicate, so white it was dazzling.
The man averted his eyes.
His Adam’s apple moved subtly, almost imperceptibly.
“Are you wearing this for your stream today?”
Jing Mian paused, but having already retrieved the mask, he withdrew and nodded: “Though I usually wear it as pajamas, this set is dark in color and the fabric isn’t too slippery. Wearing a mask won’t look out of place.”
Mr. Ren was silent for a few seconds before replying: “Indeed.”
Jing Mian stretched open one strap of the mask with his fingers, looping it over one ear. Just as he was about to get out of bed, he suddenly felt his other wrist grasped by a hand, its palm slightly warm, the grip neither too tight nor too loose.
Jing Mian froze.
That large hand belonged to Mr. Ren.
Though there was no pain or discomfort from the hold, it was inexplicably unyielding, leaving no room for escape.
Jing Mian: “?”
Jing Mian asked quietly: “What’s wrong?”
He didn’t hear Mr. Ren’s answer.
Contrary to the silence, the grip suddenly tightened.
Jing Mian’s pupils constricted.
As he was pulled down by the shoulder, Mr. Ren also rose soundlessly. A thumb pressed against the small of his back, rubbing lightly as Jing Mian floundered, only to suddenly feel his collarbone being bitten, not too hard, not too soft.
Jing Mian: “!!!”
The teeth were warm and firm. Before the young man could even gasp, he felt the pressure of lips and teeth gradually increasing.
Jing Mian trembled.
—Mr. Ren was holding him down, pressing him into the bedding, biting him.
Realizing what was happening, Jing Mian’s nape and ears quickly flushed red, even the fingertips clutching Mr. Ren’s wrist trembling uncontrollably.
“Husband…”
His reaction seemed to have been noticed. The pressure stopped just in time, and the bite turned into a gentle hold, then a soft lick.
When released, Jing Mian didn’t move an inch.
The dampness exposed to the air turned cool before it could dry, the lingering sensation of teeth marks still faintly present, clear and distinct.
“……”
In its place, the area around the dampness was rapidly reddening—from the collarbone to the neck, even to the untouched skin behind the ears, as if scorched by a sudden, overwhelming heat.
Like an unexpected fever.
“Go on.”
Mr. Ren turned over, pulling the blanket over himself: “I’m sleeping.”