Chapter 32: Repeated Confirmation
He Siming: “……”
He Siming: “……”
He Siming: “……”
The examination report He Siming was holding was, in fact, nothing more than an ordinary sheet of paper printed by the hospital.
Every word on it was familiar to him, yet when put together, they made him dizzy. For a long while, he couldn’t make his next move.
Just two minutes earlier, he had still been treating Jiang Rong’s claim about carrying his baby as a joke. But now, the faintly relaxed smile that had been at the corner of his lips had frozen in place. It was like a long, arcing boomerang that came straight back and struck his heart.
No—he had always thought Jiang Rong was teasing him, genuinely believed he’d hit his head or something.
The name Jiang Rong was correct, the gender was correct, the hospital was correct—but how could the conclusion formed by putting them together be so utterly unbelievable?
He Siming still didn’t believe it. He stared at the report again. Was it possible that he was the one who’d hit his head?
He was certain that every intimate thing he’d done with Jiang Rong had not been in a playful, joking spirit. He had been serious about wanting to develop a romantic relationship with him. But having sex with a man, and then that man becoming pregnant—this completely overturned his worldview. He’d seen Jiang Rong inside and out; there was no way he was a woman.
He read the report over and over—five times in total.
Jiang Rong wouldn’t joke with him using something like this. He was always earnest when he spoke, adorably serious, not the type to pull pranks.
He had always said he could get pregnant. Was that… actually true?
He Siming felt like the examination report in his hand had grown several degrees hotter.
Really pregnant?
No—men can get pregnant?
He Siming’s face showed no particular expression. He simply stared at the report. There were even images printed on it—the little “seed” inside was clearly visible—and the written description was detailed, listing the size of the gestational sac and the estimated formation time.
Wasn’t this exactly… getting pregnant right after they slept together?
So it really was pregnancy. Which meant Jiang Rong hadn’t hit his head?
He Siming hadn’t expected such a massive piece of news to land squarely on him. Just moments ago, he’d been confidently thinking that Jiang Rong kept saying he might get pregnant, and every time he hadn’t believed him—no wonder Jiang Rong had been upset. It actually made sense now.
This time, it was He Siming’s turn to fall silent.
The house was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.
Jiang Rong was also waiting for a positive response from him. But He Siming didn’t say a single word, which made Jiang Rong uneasy. Had what he said earlier—about liking the baby Jiang Rong would give him—just been meant to placate him?
Or had the pregnancy scared him? After all, this world didn’t have male pregnancy, and it was also He Siming’s first time encountering something like this. Maybe He Siming needed some time to accept it?
Before Jiang Rong could sink back into self-loathing again, He Siming pulled him over to the sofa and had him sit down. He didn’t know where to put his hands or feet, so he simply squatted in front of him.
Jiang Rong could feel that He Siming’s hands were trembling slightly. He Siming didn’t seem nearly as calm as he looked.
And indeed, He Siming was anything but calm. He was extremely nervous—his whole body tense—yet at the same time inexplicably excited and elated.
So nervous that he crumpled one corner of the report in his grip. Jiang Rong being pregnant felt far too unreal.
He asked gently, “Is this real?”
Jiang Rong nodded. “It’s real. I told you before—I can get pregnant.”
His eyes were full of sincerity. He Siming couldn’t find even the slightest trace of a prank or teasing.
He subconsciously tightened his grip on Jiang Rong’s hand. “I’ll take good care of you and the baby from now on. I’m sorry—I really never considered this possibility before. Even if a man said he could give birth, I’d assume he was joking.”
Whether he truly believed it or not at the moment, at the very least he couldn’t let Jiang Rong feel bad. Saying this should be the right thing to do.
Jiang Rong said, “I understand. I was surprised too. I always thought it was impossible for me to get pregnant—I only found out recently.”
He Siming said, “My head’s a mess right now. Give me some time.”
His mind felt like it had been stuffed with paste; it barely worked anymore. Only three thoughts remained, endlessly looping:
Jiang Rong can get pregnant.
Jiang Rong is pregnant with my child.
I might be about to become a father.
They spun in his head, refusing to stop unless fully acknowledged.
“Okay,” Jiang Rong said. He could feel how tightly He Siming was holding his hand, though it didn’t hurt. “Are you nervous?”
“A little,” He Siming admitted.
“I was nervous too,” Jiang Rong said.
He Siming looked at the flat lower abdomen beneath Jiang Rong’s hoodie and asked again, “There’s really a baby in your belly? You can’t tell at all.”
Jiang Rong nodded patiently. “Really. It just hasn’t grown yet—it’s like a tiny seed right now.”
He knew He Siming hadn’t been mentally prepared at all. Telling him so suddenly, he’d imagined all kinds of reactions. The fact that He Siming wasn’t disgusted or repelled already felt like the best possible outcome.
After saying it out loud, it wasn’t as frightening as he’d imagined. And He Siming didn’t dislike him.
Ten minutes earlier, He Siming had known absolutely nothing about male pregnancy. He had even thought it was just a bit of playful intimacy between him and Jiang Rong.
Jiang Rong had only just agreed to his pursuit. He’d thought they’d start dating soon—but reality had fast-forwarded several stages. Before he’d even successfully wooed him, he’d apparently already been promoted to “dad.” His emotional pace seemed a bit… too fast.
From becoming intimate to now, less than a month had passed.
He Siming tried his best to digest this explosive information. He smoothed the report out flat on the table.
Then he turned and pressed Jiang Rong’s hand against his own cheek. “It doesn’t feel real.”
“I only found out yesterday,” Jiang Rong said.
He Siming understood. “That’s why you were upset?”
He suddenly remembered that he’d once said in front of Jiang Rong that he didn’t like kids. So the person who’d made Jiang Rong sad back then… had been himself.
Jiang Rong nodded honestly. “Yeah. I was afraid you wouldn’t like it, that you wouldn’t accept it. I was scared.”
He Siming felt inexplicably pleased. “So from the start, you wanted to give me a baby.”
Jiang Rong didn’t have the heart to tell him that at first, he’d simply wanted another family member in this world. Still, he was willing to have a child with He Siming—he didn’t reject his pheromones.
Thinking of pheromones, Jiang Rong felt that familiar reaction again—his need for Alpha pheromones resurfacing.
He nodded and looked at He Siming. “Can you kiss me? I want your pheromones.”
There was no way He Siming could refuse. He stood up to kiss him, but just as their lips were about to meet, his body moved on its own and pressed Jiang Rong down onto the sofa.
Jiang Rong: “Hm?” His reaction was bigger than expected—was he really that unsteady?
He Siming quickly braced himself. “I squatted too long—my legs went numb.”
Jiang Rong laughed. “He Siming, don’t be nervous.”
He Siming leaned in and kissed him. “Don’t laugh. I’m not nervous.”
Jiang Rong kissed him back. He was craving He Siming’s pheromones and clung to him, entangling willingly. But this time, He Siming didn’t kiss him as fiercely as before—there was a newfound tenderness.
Jiang Rong let out a soft hum, arms hooked around He Siming’s neck, wanting more. But he still hadn’t learned how to breathe properly while kissing. After a long while, he pushed He Siming lightly.
He Siming was so gentle today. The kisses felt wonderful—his limbs were starting to go soft.
He Siming heard a gurgling sound from Jiang Rong’s stomach and ended the kiss with a firm peck.
“Hungry?”
Jiang Rong blinked to hide his embarrassment. A faint pink bloomed across his face—the soft peach-pink He Siming loved most.
“Yeah. I didn’t eat much today because I was in a bad mood. I wasn’t hungry before, but now I am.”
“I’ll make you some noodles. Wait here.” He Siming pushed himself up from the sofa and, in the process, pulled Jiang Rong up with him since Jiang Rong was still holding onto his neck.
“Okay.”
He Siming went into the kitchen. Jiang Rong leaned back against the soft sofa. Now that he’d relaxed, the discomfort in his body became more obvious—hungry, sleepy, inexplicably tired. Before, he hadn’t known why. Now he did: there was a little thing inside him competing for nutrients.
Making instant noodles was the quickest option. Before long, He Siming brought out two large bowls of noodles.
Jiang Rong sat obediently at the table, waiting while He Siming fetched chopsticks and spoons. He wanted to help, but He Siming wouldn’t let him.
“Eat.”
Jiang Rong picked up his chopsticks and took a bite. It tasted very bland—no salt at all. Had his sense of taste gone wrong?
He Siming hadn’t eaten dinner either. Starting yesterday, Jiang Rong hadn’t replied to his messages, and this morning he’d worried Jiang Rong had been wronged somehow. He’d rushed straight to the airport at noon. He’d barely touched the in-flight meal and was hungry too.
Then he took a bite as well.
His hands had still been trembling when he cooked; his mind was a mess, and he’d forgotten steps repeatedly. “Damn it—I forgot to add salt.”
Jiang Rong realized, “So that’s why. I thought my taste was off.”
When he looked at He Siming, he caught a flicker of embarrassment in his eyes.
So He Siming really was affected by the pregnancy. His reaction made Jiang Rong want to laugh.
He Siming brought over the salt shaker. Seeing Jiang Rong smiling but clearly holding back to spare his feelings, he said, “If you want to laugh, just laugh.”
“I wasn’t planning to,” Jiang Rong said.
“You can’t lie,” He Siming replied.
“Oh… haha.” Jiang Rong laughed openly then, his brows and eyes relaxing beautifully.
He Siming added salt to both bowls. They were edible now—good enough.
Once Jiang Rong’s heart settled, he regained his appetite and ate everything, even drinking most of the broth.
He praised generously, “It’s delicious. You’re really good at cooking.”
He Siming explained with a straight face, “Next time it’ll be better. Forgetting the salt was an accident.”
“I’m sure,” Jiang Rong said. Having someone share the shock with him made his anxiety quietly retreat.
He Siming: “……”
That did not comfort him at all.
He Siming stood at the counter loading the dishes into the dishwasher. After a while, Jiang Rong grew sleepy standing there and yawned.
“Sleepy?” He Siming noticed his half-lidded eyes, his palm braced on the counter, looking like he might nod off.
“Yeah, really sleepy.” Jiang Rong rubbed his eyes. After crying and being exposed to wind, they felt dry and slightly swollen.
“Go take a hot shower. I’ll get your pajamas.” He Siming dried his hands, came around the counter, and wrapped an arm around Jiang Rong’s waist, guiding him toward the bedroom, afraid he’d fall if he was too drowsy.
“Shower or bath?” He Siming asked.
He didn’t know much about pregnancy, but he’d heard early pregnancy carried a risk of miscarriage, which made him nervous.
“Shower’s fine,” Jiang Rong said. The last time he’d soaked in a tub had been during his heat.
Before Jiang Rong entered the bathroom, He Siming even placed a non-slip mat in the shower.
Jiang Rong took the clothes He Siming had prepared and went in. He didn’t stay long before coming back out.
“Come here, I’ll dry your hair.” He Siming had the hairdryer ready.
Jiang Rong obediently sat on the bed.
The dryer hummed. He Siming’s fingers slid through Jiang Rong’s hair. Jiang Rong felt so comfortable he squinted his eyes and wrapped his arms around He Siming’s waist, hugging him.
His hair wasn’t very long—he’d had it cut not long ago—so it dried quickly.
He Siming smoothed it into place. “All done. Go to sleep.”
Jiang Rong climbed onto the big bed He Siming had already turned down. “Aren’t you sleeping?”
“I’ll shower first. I rushed back early this afternoon, and there are still things I haven’t handled yet. I need to reply to some messages.”
He explained everything plainly, with nothing to hide.
“Did you come back early because I didn’t reply to you?” Jiang Rong asked.
“It wasn’t that you ignored me,” He Siming said. “I just wanted to know how you were at all times. I was overly nervous.”
Jiang Rong knew the truth was that he hadn’t replied, but hearing it framed this way made him feel inexplicably comforted—and less guilty.
After lying down, he pulled the blanket up to his chest. “Then… can you give me a goodnight kiss?” He wanted some pheromones before sleeping, so he wouldn’t have strange dreams.
“Of course.” He Siming bent down and kissed him. They hadn’t really kissed properly in days, and he couldn’t get enough of it. The kiss deepened, lips and tongues intertwining.
Just as He Siming felt himself losing control and wanting to keep kissing, he realized Jiang Rong—who had been responding softly—had gone still.
He’d fallen asleep.
He Siming wiped the trace of peach-flavored moisture from his lips, tucked Jiang Rong in, turned off the lights, and left the bedroom for the moment.
He really did have things to deal with—but he postponed them.
He went back to the living room, picked up Jiang Rong’s examination report, found the doctor’s signature, and called his uncle.
His maternal uncle was the vice director of the First Municipal Hospital.
It wasn’t that He Siming didn’t believe Jiang Rong—he just wondered if there was a possibility of misdiagnosis. What if it wasn’t pregnancy, but something growing in his abdomen? That would be even more terrifying. He needed to confirm it. He couldn’t just muddle along assuming it was pregnancy—what normal man could get pregnant?
“Why are you calling me all of a sudden?” his uncle asked.
“Uncle, I need to ask you something. Does your hospital have a doctor named Liu Shuming?”
“Yes. What’s wrong? She’s in obstetrics and gynecology.”
“You’re sure?”
“Of course. Her father is a very well-known traditional Chinese medicine doctor, now retired. They’re a family of doctors. She’s also my alumna. Why do you ask?”
“I sent you an exam report. Help me check if it’s really from your hospital. And…” He cleared his throat. “Can men get pregnant?”
His uncle was a medical PhD who’d published many papers and become vice director at a young age due to his exceptional skills. As a doctor, there was no rare condition he hadn’t seen.
While opening the report on WeChat, he said, “That depends. Some children retain a uterus due to conditions during fetal development. If they don’t know about it, pregnancy can indeed happen.”
“So there really are boys who can have children?” He Siming asked.
“Yes. Why are you suddenly asking such a strange question? Did you get diagnosed with something unusual?”
“No, not me.”
“Oh, I see the report now. It was done by Dr. Liu. The imaging looks fine—it is pregnancy. If you’re unsure, you can have it checked again.”
“It really is?” He Siming said.
“Yes. Where did you get this report? Asking for a friend? Must’ve scared you pretty badly, huh?” his uncle laughed.
He Siming was badly shaken. Not because he didn’t want to take responsibility, but because how a man gives birth was a huge issue. There would be many things to worry about—prenatal checkups, nutrition—and Jiang Rong was still a student.
“Can your hospital keep it confidential?” He Siming asked.
“Of course. Hospitals protect patient privacy. Follow-up exams can continue with Dr. Liu—she’s very responsible. Male pregnancy is a special case, though usually it’s terminated. That depends on the individual and their family.”
He Siming had never even considered that option. From the beginning, he hadn’t thought of not keeping the child. A baby Jiang Rong was giving him—how could he let it be taken away?
“What if he chooses to carry it to term?” He Siming asked.
“Then he’ll need a full physical exam first, and then surgery will be planned according to the specifics. Men don’t have a natural birth canal, so it can be difficult—an expert team may need to be formed. Is he your friend?”
“Mm.”
He didn’t elaborate. He was still pursuing Jiang Rong and needed his consent first.
After ending the call, He Siming sat in the living room for a while before going to shower.
There was only one bed in the apartment, so he chose to sleep on the sofa.
He’d been running around all day and should’ve been exhausted, but his mind was overly excited. He tossed and turned, unable to sleep.
When he finally did fall asleep, he started dreaming.
In the dream, nine months later, Jiang Rong’s belly was still flat. Where was the baby? Had it been aborted?
He asked, “Didn’t you say you’d give me a baby?”
Jiang Rong smiled. “He Siming, are you sick? I’m a man. I can’t have children.”
He Siming showed him the report. “Impossible. Look—this is your pregnancy test. You said you’d give me a baby.”
Jiang Rong laughed loudly. “How could a man get pregnant? Rest assured—I can’t get pregnant at all.”
He Siming saw Jiang Rong’s flat abdomen, well-defined with eight-pack abs, a basketball tucked under his arm.
“He Siming, weren’t you going to teach me to play basketball? Look—is this how you do it?”
As he spoke, Jiang Rong dribbled toward the hoop. This didn’t look anything like someone who was pregnant!
Then He Siming jolted awake.
He lay there stunned for a moment. Right—how could Jiang Rong be pregnant? It must’ve just been a dream.
When he realized he was lying on the sofa, a bit of rationality returned.
He checked the time. Five in the morning.
Still shaken, he quietly went into the bedroom to confirm that Jiang Rong really was in his home.
In his sleep, Jiang Rong smelled the green-tea citrus scent of pheromones and instinctively nestled toward it. Afraid he’d fall off the bed, He Siming lay down beside him and pulled him into his arms, sharing the blanket.
Jiang Rong murmured unconsciously, “He Siming…”
“It’s me. Go back to sleep,” He Siming whispered.
Jiang Rong rested his head against He Siming’s chest. “Mm.”
He Siming asked once more, softly, “Are you really pregnant?”
Half-asleep, Jiang Rong replied, “Mm. Really.”
