MFMH C102

Chapter 102 — Returning Home on the Third Day

More incredulous than Shen Yanbei was Gu Changfeng himself, for only the night before his stepmother had cursed him with her blood that he would never bear children.

“Doctor, am I truly pregnant?” Gu Changfeng’s gaze burned with urgency, his voice trembling with excitement.

So the reason for his recent restlessness, loss of appetite, and constant drowsiness was because he was pregnant?

Being doubted in his medical skill, the old physician grew displeased. “Pregnant, and you ask if it’s false? You’re already more than three months along!”

More than three months? Gu Changfeng’s pupils quivered. Counting the days — precisely the night Shen Yanbei had been about to depart for the capital.

One strike, and it hit home.

Every other time, Shen Yanbei had always been careful — withdrawing before climax and letting him use his hand to release upon himself.

At first, he had not thought much of it, but after many times, it inevitably caused him some hurt.

Was it because he was ugly? Did Shen Yanbei not want their child, and so never finished inside him?

The question was too shameful to voice. Yet he could not hide his feelings, and gradually he began to care deeply. One time, when Shen Yanbei was about to pull out, he suddenly pushed him down, sat atop him, and tightened his body.

Shen Yanbei was so startled he nearly lost control. Afterward, he had clutched him, biting hard at his shoulder, saying with lingering fear that he had been terrified — what if he had come inside and Gu Changfeng became pregnant? He had yet to wed him openly with honor. He could not allow him to be wronged by being forced into marriage with child.

At that moment, the feeling in Gu Changfeng’s heart was indescribable.

What virtue or ability did he possess to be cherished by Shen Yanbei in such a way?

Gu Changfeng’s heart surged violently, his eyes shining as he looked at Shen Yanbei.

Shen Yanbei was still stunned.

His husband was pregnant! His husband — a man — was pregnant!

Damn it! His husband was actually pregnant! How was he supposed to give birth?!

He had held his husband countless times, and he could say with certainty — outwardly, Gu Changfeng was no different from himself. Everything a man should have, he had. Nothing extra at all!

Could it be an internal difference?

And how, in fact, did the village shuang’ers give birth?

Shen Yanbei ruffled his hair in frustration.

Fine, suppose shuang’ers could bear children — but his husband had chest muscles, no breasts, no milk! When the baby was born, how would it eat?

There was no formula here, no bottles, no diapers. How was he supposed to raise a child?

The thought of holding a wailing, hungry infant while utterly helpless made Shen Yanbei’s head throb.

…Wait. When he was little, his family had been poor. His mother’s health had been frail, with no milk, and they had no money for formula. What had he eaten then?

“Yanbei?”

“Yanbei?”

“Ah?” Shen Yanbei snapped out of his daze, immediately meeting a pair of ecstatic black eyes.

“Our child is more than three months along,” Gu Changfeng said, eyes reddening, voice hoarse.

Hadn’t they always said the birthmark between his brows meant he would struggle to conceive? But now, wasn’t he carrying?

He could bear children!

In that instant, all the gloom in Gu Changfeng’s heart dispersed like wind.

“Three months?” Shen Yanbei blinked. Three months — that was the night before his departure!

Shen Yanbei’s eyes lit up, relief flooding him. Thank heavens he hadn’t touched him last night, seeing how tired he was. Otherwise…

Wait — if it had been three months, why was he only now showing symptoms?

The old physician explained: “Though strong of body, a pregnant husband must not overwork or be agitated. Early on, his reactions were mild. But lately he has been overtaxed, with great swings of emotion and bursts of anger, hence the nausea and breathlessness…”

Gu Changfeng understood. When he had just conceived, the war had ended. He had relaxed, awaiting the emperor’s recall. With good rest and food, he had felt no discomfort. But the long journey home, the joy of the imperial marriage decree, then the fury at that woman’s vicious curse — anger and anxiety, sleepless nights, and little appetite — had magnified what had been hidden.

“Doctor, what should we do now? He vomits so badly,” Shen Yanbei asked anxiously.

“Light food, a cheerful mind, and good rest are all that’s needed,” the physician replied. “Your husband is sturdy, there is no need for worry.”

Shen Yanbei pressed, “Anything special to watch for?”

Glancing at the room filled with festive red, the old man almost mentioned avoiding vigorous exertion. But the early stage had passed, and with such a strong frame… He coughed lightly. “Perhaps… restrain yourselves somewhat in that respect, and avoid overly greasy foods.”

Shen Yanbei noted it all carefully. Back in his modern world, when his mother was pregnant with her second child, he had read books on caring for expectant mothers. Unfortunately, anger from his scoundrel father had caused her miscarriage.

Thanking the physician, he had Zhou Yu see him out. Then Shen Yanbei lifted Gu Changfeng’s robe and stared at his stomach. Three months, and still eight flawless abdominal muscles.

Touching gently, he murmured, incredulous, “There’s truly a child inside here?” He had always thought of his husband as wholly a man. Child or no child, it hadn’t mattered. But now, knowing that a seed had sprouted in his body, the feeling was strange indeed.

Gu Changfeng caught his fingers. “Yes! We have a child!”

Shen Yanbei looked up at him. The joy on his face overflowed — so different from the dejection of once being told he could never conceive. Teasing, he said, “And who said my husband couldn’t bear children? See, here you are, pregnant.”

“Mm.” Gu Changfeng’s brows and eyes were all smiles.

“Now you can be at ease, can’t you?”

“Mm.”

“You…” Shen Yanbei pulled him close and kissed him hard. “No more nonsense thoughts!”

Gu Changfeng felt sheepish. Who could have thought it would happen in one try?

Stroking his cheek, Shen Yanbei asked, “The doctor said your moods have been swinging, you’ve been angry. What happened?”

He had not planned to mention it, but now, carrying life within him, he feared no more from that woman’s poison. “The night before last, she screamed in the middle of the night, threatening the servants with self-harm. Afraid she was serious, they came to fetch me…”

The more Shen Yanbei listened, the deeper his frown. When he heard of the blood curse that Gu Changfeng be barren, his face darkened. “You’ve already treated her with the utmost forbearance, and she still dares such insolence!”

“I was furious then too. But now,” Gu Changfeng’s gaze softened, “no matter what she says or does, she cannot touch me.”

Shen Yanbei’s eyes chilled. She wanted to die? Then he would oblige her.

Tucking the matter away in his mind, he brought over breakfast. “Feeling better now? Want to eat?”

“Yes.” With his heart unburdened, he felt only refreshed, no nausea, even hunger. The porridge Shen Yanbei had prepared was soft and white, dotted with green vegetables and pink shrimp — appetizing to look at. Golden egg crepes wrapped with bean sprouts and cucumber strips were fresh and tasty.

A spoonful of porridge, a bite of egg, with two simple dishes on the side — Gu Changfeng ate three full bowls.

Watching him eat, Shen Yanbei thought he must find out how shuang’ers bore children and fed them in this world.

For though Gu Changfeng was a shuang’er, his father had died early, his stepmother despised him, and no one had ever taught him such things. Neither of them knew what to expect.

“How do shuang’ers give birth?” The old shuang’er summoned to explain looked at the newlyweds strangely, eyes filled with disbelief. But seeing their serious faces, he answered solemnly.

The lesson left Shen Yanbei marveling at creation — shuang’ers were a third sex, combining the strengths of both men and women.

They could conceive, yet without the monthly affliction that burdened women. Their stamina surpassed women’s. Yet because of societal aesthetics, most shuang’ers were forced toward soft, feminine roles, shaping both their habits and bodies.

The only drawback — they could not nurse. Poor families fed children rice gruel, the wealthy hired wet nurses.

Having learned this, Shen Yanbei knew how to prepare. But first, a duty awaited — the return on the third day.

The so-called “third-day return” meant that on the third day of marriage, the newlyweds would bring gifts to visit the bride’s family, who would host a banquet. But as the Duke’s residence had only Gu Changfeng as its true master, the return meant Shen Yanbei and Gu Changfeng simply moved in together.

First, the Duke’s residence was far better suited than the Shen home. With summer heat approaching, it was a more comfortable place for a pregnancy. Second, that woman was a ticking bomb. He had to keep watch.

The steward had already ordered the gates opened wide, servants lined in rows to welcome their master home. Thus, when Shen Yanbei and Gu Changfeng alighted from the carriage, they saw this grand scene.

“Greetings to the Duke and Consort!” the neatly arranged servants cried in unison, dropping to their knees.

Shen Yanbei raised a brow in amusement at Gu Changfeng, who coughed lightly. “Rise. This month, all servants’ stipends shall be doubled.”

“Thank you for the Duke’s grace!” joy rang out.

Taking Shen Yanbei’s hand — which mischievously tickled his palm — Gu Changfeng declared sternly, “Henceforth, my husband’s words are as my command. Any who disobey shall be expelled!”

“Yes! We obey the Duke and the Consort!” they cried, bowing deeply.

Shen Yanbei’s lips curled of their own accord. He clasped Gu Changfeng’s hand tighter as they entered side by side.

This was Shen Yanbei’s first time in the Duke’s residence.

Constructed by imperial decree, the estate sprawled wide, its halls grand and opulent. That woman, a lover of indulgence, had made her main courtyard into a paradise of bridges, waters, gardens, and rockeries. By contrast, the quarters Gu Changfeng had once inhabited lay in a far, neglected corner. Weeds choked the yard, where only a single cypress stood. The sight was desolate.

“She had the servants throw my things here, then told my father I’d moved for quiet to train, away from Qingyao’s noise.” He had not wished to argue then, nor to see her false face, nor endure Qingyao’s constant demands to play guard and foil. Here, away from eyes, he had lived in solitude, free to come and go.

Listening, Shen Yanbei’s heart ached. He made another mental note.

Seeing the weeds, Gu Changfeng sighed. “They must think this my taboo. Without my order, none dared touch it.” With the main courtyard usurped, he had not wished to live there. The steward had prepared the east wing instead, leaving this place to ruin.

The cypress trunk bore the marks of countless strikes. Shen Yanbei could easily picture the boy he once was, expressionless, training day after day.

He was about to enter when Gu Changfeng pulled him back. “There’s nothing worth seeing.”

Eyes crinkling, Shen Yanbei smiled and looked at him, until he released his hand.

The room inside was simple. Aside from a bed, table, and chairs, there was only a desk, bearing brush, ink, paper, inkstone, and a few books — military texts, copybooks, and—

“‘The Record of Spring Blossoms at Mount Qi’?” The cover alone was unusual. Curious, Shen Yanbei flipped it open.

Gu Changfeng stared blankly until he recalled what it was. His face flushed scarlet as he rushed forward to snatch it back.

“Oh? So my husband liked such storybooks in his youth?” Shen Yanbei caught his hand, pinning him against the wall. The title had seemed a travelogue, but the contents were utterly licentious — tales of demons in carnal battle. Truly demons, at that! A rabbit spirit and a human farmer!

“I didn’t buy it — I picked it up on the road!” Gu Changfeng stammered, face crimson. He hardly remembered its contents. At the time, he’d thought it a travelogue, until he realized something was off.

“Finished it?” Shen Yanbei teased, brushing his lips close.

“No, I skipped straight to the end.” Flustered, Gu Changfeng’s face burned hotter.

“Ohhh—” Shen Yanbei grinned wickedly, biting his lip. “Then I’ll read it through and tell you the full story!”

And with that, he tucked the book away!