Zhou Dana looked up at Shi Yanhua and thought to himself, this woman is truly ruthless!
"Huang Meili is a handful, sure, but she's just a paper tiger. There's no need to take such a big risk." Zhou Dana spoke slowly.
Shi Yanhua let out a cold snort, her tone sharp. "That woman's lips are never sealed. If she ever lets what happened slip, we're both done for!"
"We're not there yet!" Zhou Dana's tone carried an unyielding firmness.
Women, after all, a little sweet-talking and they soften right up.
Zhou Dana's expression gentled, and he reached out to pull Shi Yanhua over, making her sit beside him.
"Huang Meili can't stir up any big waves. From now on, just steer clear of her."
Shi Yanhua's eyes widened, and she huffed angrily, "Then you go ahead and pay more attention to her!"
"I won't pay her any mind, not ever again. In this life, I'll only ever pay mind to you..." Zhou Dana said, and with that, he pushed her down onto the bed.
On the other side, Huang Meili was still stewing over what happened during the day, silently cursing Shi Yanhua for being shameless—she'd even had a bastard child and still couldn't keep still.
But she didn't dare have a full-blown falling out with Shi Yanhua—Shi Yanhua had no man and nothing to lose, while she herself had a husband and kids and couldn't afford to mess around.
Still, if she were truly pushed to the edge, she wasn't someone to be trifled with. Even a cornered rabbit will bite.
Once the fifteenth of the first month passed, the flavor of the New Year gradually faded, and the weather grew warmer day by day.
The snow on the fields and the thick ice on the riverbanks quietly melted away. The winter crops pushed out tender new shoots, and the edges of the ridges sprouted fresh green tips of grass.
Spring had truly arrived, and everywhere brimmed with vitality.
The farmers could no longer sit idle—weeding, fertilizing, nursing seedlings, plowing, and sowing—each task proceeded in an orderly fashion.
But Zhou Zhijun had no time for the fieldwork. He stayed by Chuntao's side day and night, not daring to leave for even a moment, afraid that something might go wrong.
Chuntao's belly had grown so heavy she could barely move, and she was due any day now. Zhou Zhijun and Aunt Zhou were on tenterhooks day and night.
Aunt Zhou knew midwifery well and, with her experience, had long since seen that Chuntao was carrying twins.
Chuntao was frail to begin with—even a single birth was worrying, let alone twins.
On top of that, this remote mountain village was short on medicine and doctors. If anything went wrong...
The worry weighed heavily on both mother and son, but they didn't dare breathe a word of it in front of Chuntao, afraid she'd overthink and scare herself.
Chuntao had told Aunt Zhou her last period was in mid-June. Aunt Zhou had already calculated: the due date was nine months and ten days later, around the end of the second month, though some come a few days early and some a few days late.
After the twentieth of the second month, Aunt Zhou had Zhou Zhijun carry gifts to find a well-known midwife nearby, telling her that Chuntao was carrying twins and asking her to make preparations early.
What worried Zhou Zhijun most was that on the day Chuntao gave birth, the midwife might be called away by another family. He even wanted to offer more money to have her wait at home and not go anywhere.
But that simply wouldn't work—childbirth was a matter of life and death, and no midwife could turn anyone away.
Chuntao was thin and frail to begin with, and carrying such a heavy belly was exhausting.
Aunt Zhou and Zhou Zhijun saw it and ached for her, only hoping the babies would come soon so she could finally catch her breath.
"Tao, are you tired?" Chuntao lay in bed all day, and her whole body ached from lying so long.
Zhou Zhijun propped her head up a little higher, holding a tin cup, and fed her water spoonful by spoonful.
Chuntao responded softly, "Mm, even if I'm tired, there's no helping it."
"Mother says it'll be any day now. Just bear it a little longer. Once the baby's born, you'll feel better."
After she finished the water, Zhou Zhijun carefully lowered her head. The moment he moved, Chuntao's face twisted with pain and she let out a low cry, "Ah!"
"What's wrong? Tao! Is it time?" Zhou Zhijun's panic instantly surged.
"My belly... suddenly hurts, a heavy dragging pain!" Chuntao bit her lip, her face turning pale.
Aunt Zhou heard the sound and hurried into the room, calling out urgently, "Tao!"
She walked to the bedside, reached under the covers, and felt Chuntao's belly, asking in a low voice, "What kind of pain is it? Is it a dragging pain that comes in waves?"
"Yes, it's dragging, and it hurts badly!" Chuntao's voice trembled with pain.
Aunt Zhou turned to Zhou Zhijun, her tone rushed. "Quick! It's time! Go fetch the midwife now!"
The moment Zhou Zhijun heard that, he bolted out the door, running and silently praying the whole way—let everything go smoothly, and let both Tao and the babies be safe!
He had long legs and ran fast, but the road was full of mud. With every step, his foot sank into the mire, and within a few strides, his rubber boots were caked with heavy mud, making his steps drag.
Zhou Zhijun's eyes were bloodshot from urgency. He kicked off his boots, tossed them into the ditch by the roadside, and charged ahead barefoot.
Though it was already late in the second month, a heavy snow a few days earlier had sent temperatures plummeting. With bare feet on the freezing, muddy ground, a biting chill seeped straight into his bones.
He paid it no mind—his head was full of Chuntao and the babies about to be born. He feared that even one step too late could spell disaster.
The midwife was a woman in her fifties. She had just finished helping a birth in the village and hadn't even sat down when Zhou Zhijun, gasping for breath, burst through her door.
"Auntie! My wife's in labor—you've got to come with me now!" He'd run over ten miles of mountain road, drenched in sweat, his coarse cloth undershirt soaked through and clinging to his back.
The midwife didn't pause to catch her breath. She grabbed her birth kit and headed out.
Zhou Zhijun had brought gifts earlier, and besides, childbirth was a matter of life and death—not a moment could be wasted.
Zhou Zhijun's heart was burning with urgency. He wished he could leap back to Chuntao's side in a single bound, terrified that if he returned too late, something would go wrong.
He took the bundle from the midwife and slung it over his shoulder, then squatted down and said in a gruff voice, "The road's deep in mud. I'll carry you on my back. Quick!"
The midwife didn't decline. "Alright! You're fast—carry me!"
With the bundle on his shoulder, Zhou Zhijun hoisted the midwife onto his back and charged out of the yard.
His body was sturdy, but carrying a person on the bumpy, winding mountain path with sticky mud underfoot, he jolted and staggered the whole way home, so out of breath he could hardly speak.
He'd barely set foot in the yard when he heard Chuntao's muffled groans of pain from inside, along with Aunt Zhou's hoarse encouragement, "Tao, push! Push harder!"
Zhou Zhijun's heart, which had been in his throat the whole way, now felt like it might leap out of his chest. He carried the midwife to the doorway of the inner room and moved to go in.
"Mother! How's Tao?"
"Zhijun, you can't go in! When a woman's giving birth, no man may enter!"
Second Aunt Zhou came out of the inner room carrying a basin of water. Her face was grave, and as she spoke, she shoved the basin into his hands. "The water's gone cold—hurry and get some boiling hot!"
It turned out that shortly after Zhou Zhijun left, Chuntao's waters had broken. Aunt Zhou and Second Aunt Zhou had been busy ever since, but it had been nearly an hour, and the baby still hadn't come.
The midwife stepped into the inner room and saw Aunt Zhou helping to position the baby, sweat beading on her forehead. She quickly asked, "How is it? Have any liquor? Let me clean my hands first!"
"The baby's not in the right position!" Aunt Zhou lowered her voice, not daring to say more, terrified Chuntao might overhear.
The midwife swiftly shed her heavy padded jacket, rolled up her sleeves, washed her hands with the liquor, and walked to the bedside.
“You rest, I’ll take over!” Aunt Zhou’s arms were already sore and weak, and she quickly moved aside.
The midwife gently adjusted the baby’s position while calling out to Chuntao, “Dear, every woman has to go through this to have a child. Don’t be afraid—push down hard!”
Chuntao’s face was twisted with pain, pale as paper, her damp strands of hair stuck to her forehead, lips bitten till they turned dark purple.
From childhood to now, she had never felt such agony—pain so fierce she wished she could just knock herself out.
But the thought of the baby in her belly made her grit her teeth and push with all her might. She had no strength left even to cry out; every bit of energy went to one place.
The midwife steadied the baby’s position below, while Aunt Zhou and Second Aunt Zhou stood nearby, their palms slick with sweat.
Aunt Zhou let Chuntao grip her hand and kept encouraging her, “Tao, push harder! Almost there—the baby’s almost out!”
Zhou Zhijun had boiled hot water and was carrying it to the room. Just as he reached the door, he heard Chuntao let out a heart-wrenching scream.
That sound cut into his heart like a sharp knife.
His whole body jolted violently. The basin of water nearly slipped from his hands, and the scalding water splashed onto his skin, but he felt nothing at all.
Then came the midwife’s voice, tinged with panic, urgent and sharp: “This is bad! The baby’s stuck. If we can’t get it out soon, both the mother and the child will be in danger!”
