"Hiss—" Qin Yuhe let out a laugh, its meaning unclear.
"What are you laughing at?" Song Xinya studied his expression. "I'm talking to you about something very serious."
Qin Yuhe sat on the bed, the friction between his pajamas and the bedsheet making a rustling sound.
"I know preparing for pregnancy is a serious matter. I'll take it very seriously myself and cooperate with you fully."
Song Xinya carefully scanned every trace of emotion on Qin Yuhe's face, feeling there was something suggestive hidden beneath the surface.
She remembered a short video she'd just seen while searching for pregnancy preparation tips online.
In it, a woman complained about her husband. She said she wanted a child with him and had made a pregnancy plan: during the seven days of ovulation, have sex three times a day with her husband.
Her husband refused.
The reason: Her husband said asking him to do it three times a day was too much for him.
So the woman made a video asking all the ladies out there:
Is it really that hard to make your husband do it three times a day?
She was only asking for seven days during her ovulation period—not 365 days a year, every single day asking for three times. How hard could it be? Was it that hard? Was it especially hard?
The kicker? Her husband was only twenty-four years old.
At the end of the video, the woman posed the soul-searching question: "Ladies, what are your husbands like? Can't they handle it three times a day either?"
Song Xinya recalled the video, thought for a moment, looked at Qin Yuhe, and said, "Do you think asking you to do it at least four times a day, seven days straight, is too much for you?"
"Hiss—" Qin Yuhe laughed again.
This time louder than before.
Qin Yuhe lounged against the headboard, his posture relaxed and lazy, his long legs stretched out naturally.
Song Xinya lifted the hem of her skirt slightly, her fair thigh flashing past Qin Yuhe's eyes, and knelt astride him, her bottom pressing against his thighs.
She placed her hands on his shoulders, looked straight at him, and said with particular tenderness and consideration, her expression showing she was thinking of him, "If you think seven consecutive days of doing it at least four times a day is too hard on you, we can talk about it."
Qin Yuhe lifted his gaze to look at her. "I think seven straight days of doing it at least four times is too hard on you."
Song Xinya: "Not at all. There's no worn-out field, only a tired-out ox."
Qin Yuhe gave a soft laugh. "When we actually get down to business, I hope you'll still be this confident."
Here was this little thing who usually cried and begged for mercy after just two rounds, and she was worried about him? She really had no clue where her confidence came from. Did she have any self-awareness at all?
And she even said that during ovulation, seven days straight, she wanted to do it at least four times a day with him.
Hiss—
What a load of brag.
The laugh Qin Yuhe let out earlier was exactly because this little thing was spouting nonsense.
At this moment, Song Xinya still didn't realize the seriousness of the situation. She said to Qin Yuhe, "Since you think there's no problem, then it's settled. From now on, during my ovulation period every month, seven days straight, every day, we'll do it at least four times."
Qin Yuhe: "I'm very much looking forward to it."
Song Xinya shifted her bottom from his thighs onto the bedsheet, pulled back the covers, and slid into the blanket, her face brimming with joy at having settled this.
"Everything is ready. Once the wound on your stomach heals, we'll begin!"
Qin Yuhe: "The way you say it, I'm suddenly full of anticipation."
Song Xinya: "..."
Something about his tone felt a little sarcastic.
Song Xinya lay down, tilting her head back to look at Qin Yuhe, the line of her neck stretched and graceful, a stretch of fair skin showing above her chest.
"Aren't you going to sleep yet?"
Qin Yuhe still sat there casually: "In a bit."
"I won't sleep yet either. I'm going to study a bit more."
Song Xinya climbed out from under the covers, picked up a book from the bedside table.
Getting Pregnant: From Your Eggs Onward—A scientific guide to precisely improving egg quality for pregnancy preparation.
Qin Yuhe glanced at the book in her hand, then at the three remaining books on the bedside table.
The New Guide to Perfect Pregnancy Preparation—Bid farewell to pregnancy anxiety; top Peking Union Medical College Hospital experts teach you to have healthy babies.
Bedtime Stories for Expectant Mothers—The perfect prenatal bedside book; feel the boundless power of maternal love.
The Complete Encyclopedia of Newborn and Infant Care—Expert guidance to care for your newborn with confidence.
Qin Yuhe curled his lips. She wasn't even pregnant yet, and she was already thinking about what to do after the baby was born.
He picked up the calendar lying nearby, flipped through it, and saw that for the remaining four months of the year—September, October, November, December—each had seven days circled in red.
His eyes swept across the bedside table, and Qin Yuhe spotted a calendar for next year.
He opened it and found that on next year's calendar, January through December, each month had seven days circled in red.
Qin Yuhe laughed. "Mrs. Qin, are you planning for a long war with me?"
Song Xinya lifted her face from Getting Pregnant: From Your Eggs Onward and replied, "Yes."
Pregnancy was something no one could predict. Some women hit the jackpot on their first try, others tried for eight months without success, and still others tried for four or five years without getting pregnant, only to suddenly conceive when they'd given up all hope.
Everyone was different, each one unique.
So Song Xinya had prepared for all possibilities, readying herself for the long haul.
Qin Yuhe said with a hint of a smile at the corners of his mouth, "A long war doesn't sound bad either."
Song Xinya could guess his little thoughts—he just wanted to do it more times.
She said, "I don't want an eight-year war of resistance with you. The best outcome is hitting the target on the first shot—get pregnant in one go."
Qin Yuhe: "That depends on whether your soil is fertile enough."
Song Xinya: "No, fertile soil alone isn't enough. What matters most is whether the man's bullets are powerful."
Qin Yuhe: "I'll take good care of my body this month. When the real battle starts, I'll prove to you whether Brother's bullets are powerful."
Song Xinya reminded him: "You can't smoke or drink lately, okay?"
Qin Yuhe never smoked anyway. He had a cleanliness fetish—he didn't like the smell of smoke, and he didn't like his clothes reeking of it either. As for alcohol, he inevitably had a drink or two at business functions.
But now that his wife was so serious and devoted to preparing for pregnancy, he naturally wanted to respect her wishes and take the matter seriously along with her: "I won't drink from now on."
Song Xinya leaned over and gave him a particularly loud kiss on the cheek as a reward. "Good boy."
Qin Yuhe raised an eyebrow at her. "Now that I've been good, isn't it time for you to be good?"
Song Xinya sat cross-legged, her small frame straight and proper, her eyes fixed on the book Getting Pregnant: From Your Eggs Onward: "I've always been good."
Qin Yuhe checked the time—10 p.m.
Usually, he only returned to the bedroom from his study at 11 p.m. Tonight, he'd come back an hour early.
He hadn't come back an hour early just to sit around with her.
Song Xinya was engrossed in reading about "which positions with your husband are best for getting pregnant" ...
Suddenly, the book was snatched from her hands by Qin Yuhe.
He placed the book on the bedside table, turned around, and wrapped his arms around her fragrant, soft body, pulling her down onto the bed.
The man’s physique was muscular, strong, and burning hot, as he overpowered her with a fierce and dominant grip.
“I’m heading to Magic City on a business trip tomorrow, so tonight let’s have some fun.”
Song Xinya: “Fun? Your body’s still recovering.”
Qin Yuhe slipped his hand under her shirt, his movements rough, the coarse palm pressing heavily against her jade-like skin. “Let me have a good time with you.”
Song Xinya struggled to catch her breath. “No way.”
Qin Yuhe changed his approach. “Then let me take good care of you.”
Song Xinya obediently gasped. “Okay.”
Qin Yuhe smiled.
He lifted the hem of her shirt and buried his head inside…
