MFMH C107

Chapter 107 — Extra

After helping Gu Changfeng wash up, Shen Yanbei carried him back to their room.

The underfloor heating made the room warm. Shen Yanbei set him on the bed, pulled a blanket over him, and said, “Confinement may get a little dull, but when it’s over, it’ll be just in time for the New Year. We can go out together then.”

“Alright.” The older servants of the household had all said that if postpartum recovery was not done properly, one could be left with lingering ailments, some severe enough to affect future childbirth. So, even if confinement was boring, Gu Changfeng was determined to stay quietly at home.

“Are you tired? Do you want to sleep for a while?” Because he had carried twins, the size of his belly pressed heavily on his organs and bladder. In the later stages, it was even worse. Hardly a single night had he been able to sleep well. Often, he endured in silence so as not to disturb Shen Yanbei.

Gu Changfeng shook his head. “I want to see the children.” He was not tired at all — in fact, he was far too excited.

So Shen Yanbei called for the wet nurses to bring the babies and went himself to check the chicken soup he had simmering in the kitchen.

“Your Grace, my lord.” Two women in cyan gowns entered, each carrying a swaddled baby.

“Have they been fed?” Shen Yanbei asked as he took the bundles and placed them on the bed for Gu Changfeng to see.

“Yes, my lord, both have,” replied the elder-looking woman with a steady expression.

Shen Yanbei had hired four wet nurses to care for the twins. All four were from families carefully vetted as honest and clean, with good temperament and character.

He had them live in the residence, with meals arranged uniformly, and required them to follow his strict rules for childcare: daily bathing and clothing changes to maintain cleanliness, washing their hands before handling the children, and cleaning themselves before feeding. Though it sounded troublesome, it was all for the children’s benefit. The wet nurses themselves also learned much in the process.

Well-fed, well-clothed, generously paid, and treated kindly by their masters, the women were delighted with the arrangement, and cared for the twins with extra patience and attention.

“When they wake up later, we’ll hold them again,” Shen Yanbei said. Newborns had small appetites and were very sleepy — likely they would nap for at least another hour.

Gu Changfeng gently tapped his daughter’s faint eyebrows with a fingertip. “What should we name them?” Though twins, they looked quite different. At a glance, the son resembled him more, while the daughter looked like Shen Yanbei.

That was just right.

The words our children struck Shen Yanbei’s heart, filling him with a profound sense of responsibility. He immediately began pacing the room, determined to come up with names that could move heaven and earth.

Watching him muttering to himself, frowning, pausing to think, and staring off in frustration, Gu Changfeng couldn’t help but smile.

The Shen family had no genealogy book, otherwise naming according to generation would have been much simpler.

Shen Yanbei paced for a full quarter-hour without success. With a solemn look, he declared, “I must go to the study to check the classics!” In modern times, parents often drew names from the Book of Songs or adapted lines from poetry. He too would have to study the texts.

“No rush, take your time,” Gu Changfeng said with a laugh.

Just then, the little one in the blue swaddle twitched his hand, making small noises with closed eyes. Before Gu Changfeng could react, the tiny fists waved more wildly, and then the baby suddenly burst into loud cries, startling him.

“Yanbei!” Gu Changfeng called helplessly. “What’s wrong with him?”

Having studied newborn care, Shen Yanbei quickly checked. “Don’t worry, let me see.”

Since the wet nurse had just fed him, hunger was not the issue. Shen Yanbei opened the swaddle. Inside, the infant’s tiny body wriggled against his little cotton clothes, kicking weakly as if displeased with the confinement.

Unwrapping the diaper, Shen Yanbei found no urine, but instead a sticky green mess.

“So he’s soiled himself.” Shen Yanbei fetched warm water, cleaned the baby, laid on a fresh soft diaper, and wrapped him again.

His movements were not very practiced, but he managed in an orderly manner. Watching, Gu Changfeng felt his eyes grow warm.

“What a clean little fellow,” Shen Yanbei said, lifting the bundle and patting him gently. The baby, now comfortable, stopped crying and quickly drifted back to sleep.

He set the swaddle beside Gu Changfeng and instructed, “For the next two days, newborns will keep expelling waste. If I’m not here, call the wet nurse to clean it. Don’t get up yourself — standing too much will strain your back.” His own mother had suffered terribly, forced to care for him during her confinement without help. Repeated bending and lifting left her with chronic pain that worsened with age.

“Mm.” Gu Changfeng nodded solemnly. He would follow Shen Yanbei’s words, recover quickly, and then raise their children together.

Seeing he had taken it to heart, Shen Yanbei left to fetch the soup.

Because Gu Changfeng had gone into labor suddenly, Shen Yanbei had rushed home from the Hanlin Academy without even reporting in. He later asked Zhao Yu for three days’ leave to stay with his wife and children. But his hasty return, witnessed by onlookers and accompanied by servants fetching the Imperial Physician, somehow sparked rumors that the Duke had suffered a difficult birth.

On hearing this, Shen Yanbei could only shake his head. Why were some people so eager to invite embarrassment?

Still, tongues belonged to others — he could not stop them. He merely ordered the steward to instruct the servants not to respond to or argue with such gossip.

After sending letters of joyous news to Su Qingze and Shen Dezhong, Shen Yanbei stared gloomily at the open books on his desk.

He finally understood the suffering of parents who tore apart volumes in their struggle to name their children, and why some would pay fortune-tellers to select names based on fate and numerology, ending up with cumbersome, awkward characters just for the auspicious meaning.

Naming truly was too difficult!

Crumpling another failed attempt into a ball and tossing it into the wastebasket, Shen Yanbei sighed. Why had Shen Village not compiled a genealogy with generation names after so many generations?

But then, thinking about it, Shen Village had only produced one scholar in all those years — the original Shen Yanbei. Most villagers were illiterate, too busy farming and eating to care about scholarly traditions. At best, parents gave children simple, hopeful names like Dezhong, Youcai, Laifu, Chengwu, or, more casually, Daniu, Dazhuang, Dayan, Chunhua.

Perhaps it would be easier to propose creating a generational sequence for the future children of Shen Village?

Suddenly, Shen Yanbei remembered something.

Though his own family lacked generational names, his husband’s family had them. Gu Changfeng’s full name was Gu Zhongxiao — the “Zhong” generation.

Inspired, Shen Yanbei rushed to ask Gu Changfeng, and upon learning the next generation was “Chang,” he slapped the table. “Our son shall be Shen Changze!”

Gu Changfeng blinked, his gaze wavering. “And our daughter?”

“For a girl…” Shen Yanbei thought a moment, then asked, “How about Shen Jianwei?”

“Though she’s a girl, jianwei zhizhuo — from the small, one perceives the great. I want her to have a broad vision and heart, to be independent and rational, and live more freely than others.”

“Shen Jianwei…” Gu Changfeng repeated softly. “It carries a fine meaning.”

“Of course!” Shen Yanbei boasted shamelessly. “After all, I am a top scholar.”

Gu Changfeng chuckled and agreed.

In the capital, custom dictated that when a child was born, families sent out red eggs to neighbors. Usually six or eight for boys, five or seven for girls. On the twins’ third day, Shen Yanbei ordered the kitchen to boil a large basketful of red eggs and had the steward distribute fifteen eggs per household along their street.

That day, before attending court, Shen Yanbei carried eggs with him. Whether he knew the recipient or not, he handed them out.

Those who had spread gossip about Gu Changfeng’s supposed difficult birth now stared at the bright red eggs in their hands. Counting them, their faces turned redder than the eggs themselves.

…

Snow fell silently, quickly blanketing the rooftops.

Gu Changfeng looked out at the red plum blossoms blooming defiantly in the wind and snow, inhaling the cold air with excitement.

Today his confinement was over!

For one month, under the care of Shen Yanbei and the entire household, he ate meals and drank soups on schedule. When tired of lying down, he strolled the room, read books, or played with the twins. When Shen Yanbei was home, he shared stories, played chess and cards, and tended the children with him. The days were not dull.

Watching the babies grow from red, wrinkled bundles into soft, fair cherubs, he had long awaited the day he could finally bathe properly.

At Shen Yanbei’s insistence, he had only been able to wipe down with warm water mixed with wine. Without a bath, he constantly felt unclean, though Shen Yanbei never minded, holding him to sleep every night. The thought had made him self-conscious.

After breathing in the fresh air, Gu Changfeng turned and entered the bathhouse.

The pool steamed, petals of vivid red scattered across the water in celebration of his release from confinement.

Shedding his clothes, he eagerly slipped in. As the hot water touched his skin, a sigh of relief escaped his lips.

He reached for the soap to scrub himself thoroughly — then froze, staring at his body in disbelief.

A month indoors had noticeably paled his skin, but that wasn’t what shocked him.

He had gained weight!

His once-solid muscles on arms and abdomen had softened, and worst of all, his belly sagged, loose and wrinkled like a crumpled rag.

Gu Changfeng’s face turned pale.

The chest and abs Shen Yanbei loved most were gone! What was he to do?