A horse pulled the carriage forward, its head adorned by a small green snake whispering unintelligible secrets with Big-Eyes, who perched beside it.
Before long, the carriage window slid open, and a young man’s head emerged, retching weakly.
Chu'he quickly patted his back, her voice laced with concern. "I told you not to push yourself if you weren’t feeling well. Should we turn back?"
Ninth withdrew into the carriage, curling up weakly with his head resting on Chu'he’s lap. His pale, jade-like face now bore an air of fragility.
Muffled, he insisted, "No, I won’t go back. I want to attend the wedding banquet with you."
Chu'he wiped the faint sweat from his forehead with a handkerchief before feeding him a sour plum, sighing helplessly. "Is showing off really that important?"
Ninth’s gaze dropped to Chu'he’s rounded belly. His slender, elegant hand gently settled over it as he answered with absolute seriousness, "Yes, it is."
The reason Chu'he had missed the full-month celebration of Zhao Rongyue’s son in Xiaocheng was her pregnancy—traveling had been too risky then, so she’d sent gifts instead.
Now, the baby in her womb was over four months along, stable enough that, in Ninth’s words, even if he took Chu'he cliff-diving again, the child would be unharmed.
When it came to tenacity, this little one had clearly inherited his traits.
Ninth leaned closer, crimson eyes glimmering as he murmured, "Little one, when you come out, I’ll take you to catch bugs."
"Remember, your father is the most formidable man in the world—and your mother’s favorite person."
"You’ll have to settle for second place, understand?"
Of course, a half-formed fetus couldn’t possibly reply.
Chu'he watched, deadpan, as he kissed her belly, utterly exasperated.
Ninth lifted his eyes, bright with excitement. "Chu'he, once the baby turns two and can live independently, let’s send them off to explore the world!"
Chu'he: "...Have some common sense!"
She smacked him lightly on the head, reminded once again that even as a soon-to-be father, he remained hopelessly unreliable.
Ninth rubbed the spot she’d hit, lips pursed. "I was living on my own at two. Why can’t our child?"
Chu'he hesitated.
What Ninth called "independent living" had been survival—thrown into pits of venomous insects, fighting tooth and nail, driven by sheer instinct to kill or be killed.
Maybe to survive, maybe just to fill his belly, he’d devoured more and more creatures until he’d become something monstrous himself.
That was how he’d grown up, never needing to rely on anyone.
Unsure how to respond, Chu'he forced a casual tone. "We Han Chinese raise children differently than you Miaojiang folk. Here, kids stay with their parents until adulthood."
Ninth’s hand on her belly tightened slightly. He buried his face against her waist, silent.
Chu'he nudged him gently. "Ninth, what’s wrong?"
His voice was muffled. "Why does he get to be different?"
He was jealous—jealous that his child would have the childhood he’d been denied.
"You’re right, why should he?" Chu'he echoed, then suddenly brightened. "Ah! It must be because our little one has you as their father!"
Ninth peeked up with one eye. "Because of me?"
Chu'he nodded solemnly. "You’re so incredible that out of all the parents in the world, our baby chose us! Once they’re born, you can teach them to climb trees for cicadas, wade into rivers for fish, even raid squirrels’ nests. Who else could be as perfect a father as you?"
Clutching her chest dramatically, she lamented, "Oh no—just thinking about the baby stealing your affection makes me miserable!"
Ninth took her seriously, bolting upright in a jingle of silver ornaments. "No! Chu'he, all my love is yours. No one can take it."
Tears welled in her eyes. "And I only love you, Ninth."
His frown melted into delight as he pulled her close, peppering her with kisses.
Chu'he suddenly added, "But if neither of us loves the baby, wouldn’t that be too sad?"
Ninth pressed his lips together. "Mm."
"Then how about this?" She placed a hand over his heart, smiling. "You only need to spare a little love for them, and I’ll do the same. Together, that makes twice the love!"
Ninth’s eyes flickered. "Twice?"
Chu'he grinned. "With you here, our baby will be the happiest child alive!"
He looked lost.
Bringing death was second nature to him—but happiness? That was unfamiliar territory.
Chu'he nestled into his arms, and instinctively, his hands circled her waist, one resting lightly on her belly.
She closed her eyes, basking in the sunlight filtering through the window, in no rush at all.
They had time—plenty of it—to learn how to be good parents.
A black hawk circled outside before alighting on the windowsill, tilting its head at Chu'he. Tied to its leg was a conspicuous letter.
She nudged Ninth, who lazily retrieved it and handed it to her.
[So, Chu'he, how do you like my falconry skills? Picked them up in the desert!]
Chu'he perked up. "It’s from Li Doudou."
Li Furong sent letters now and then, describing her travels and occasionally griping that if Chu'he hadn’t married so young, she could’ve roamed the world with her.
Li Furong had visited the Canghai Isles, Xiaocheng, and even Miaojiang, where she’d met Cang Yan.
According to her, Sang Duo now reigned as heir of the Witchcraft and Gu Sorcery Sect, with Cang Yan as her enforcer—so much so that even the elders served her tea like lowly attendants.
Now, Li Furong was headed north, and this letter had been penned mid-journey.
[Before even reaching the Northern Wastes, I’ve heard tales of a benevolent couple there—healers who ask for no payment. Will our paths cross?
But after wandering so far, I’ve learned not to force fate. If it’s not meant to be, so be it.
Oh, are you expecting? My father’s letters harp on marriage every tenth line.
But shouldn’t weddings come naturally? What’s the rush?
Not like I’m in a hurry anyway.]
