Chapter 56: Fetal Movement
Jiang Rong knew that He Siming was quite clingy—he usually loved hugging him. Seeing him like this, Jiang Rong could tell that something must have happened to upset him.
Whatever it was could wait. Comforting him was the most important thing right now.
Jiang Rong happened to be standing while He Siming was sitting. He wrapped both arms around Jiang Rong’s waist and leaned his head against Jiang Rong’s slightly rounded belly.
“It’s nothing,” He Siming said for the time being, not telling Jiang Rong about the matter. It would only make him anxious. He had just come down with a fever—there was no need to worry him further. Getting his body back in shape came first.
“But…” Jiang Rong was certain that He Siming’s mood was the worst he had ever seen. “Is it because I had a fever and fainted?”
“Yeah. Seeing you unconscious scared me to death.” He Siming then made a decision. “Can you promise me that, until the baby is born, you’ll focus on taking good care of yourself first? Elder Liu said the weather’s been unpredictable lately—it’s better for you to stay at home.”
“I know.” Jiang Rong ran his fingers through He Siming’s hair, which he carefully combed smooth every day. “I really have been a bit tired lately. I’ll tell Professor Wen that I won’t go to the lab for now.”
He had originally wanted to learn more new things, but he had rushed himself too much, forgetting that what his body needed most was rest—and that the baby liked rest even more.
“Jiang Rong.”
He Siming was rarely held like this by Jiang Rong, and he rarely called his name in such a heavy tone.
Jiang Rong hadn’t realized that his fever and fainting would affect He Siming so deeply.
His voice softened even more. “Go on.”
He Siming said, “Promise me that no matter what you do, you’ll put yourself first. Can you?”
“I will.” Jiang Rong replied seriously. “I’m in good shape right now. Don’t worry too much—this time was an accident. Before I was pregnant, running three kilometers was no problem at all.”
“Really?” He Siming looked at him doubtfully, half believing, half not. Holding Jiang Rong and breathing in the faint peach scent on him calmed him a lot, and at the same time, he was moved by Jiang Rong trying so hard to cheer him up.
“Why don’t you believe me again?” Jiang Rong patted his head. Standing had made him tired, so he found a comfortable position and sat down in He Siming’s arms.
“It’s not that I don’t believe you—it’s just that you’re pregnant now, so it’s not very convincing.” He Siming hugged him tenderly and kissed the corner of his lips.
Half a year ago, he had said he would never fall for anyone. Now, he wanted the person he had fallen for to spend his life with him.
“So do you believe me or not?” Jiang Rong asked.
“I believe you, I believe you. Whatever you say, I believe.”
Jiang Rong smiled and leaned into his arms.
They fell into a quiet silence for a moment. He Siming played with Jiang Rong’s slender fingers—fine, rounded fingertips, nails that had grown a bit long. Last time, he had helped Jiang Rong trim them. Jiang Rong didn’t like long nails; he said they were inconvenient when typing and could get caught between the keys, and they weren’t clean.
He had a bit of a cleanliness obsession.
“I’ll cut your nails for you?” He Siming asked.
“Mm.” Jiang Rong nodded. “They grow so fast—if I don’t cut them for a week, they’re already this long.”
He Siming carried him over to the sofa. “You’ve gotten heavier. All the nutrients went to the little one—your face didn’t gain any flesh at all.”
Jiang Rong laughed. “I heard Yao Shule say something the other day—‘being able to eat is a blessing.’”
Thinking again of the surgery, He Siming quickly turned his head to look for the nail clippers. He didn’t dare look at Jiang Rong’s pure, innocent smile.
If the specialists at his uncle’s hospital truly couldn’t come up with a workable plan, he would have his parents hire the best doctors in the world to operate on Jiang Rong.
He Siming brought over the nail clippers, squatted in front of Jiang Rong, gently held his fingers, and carefully trimmed the long nails. Afterward, he even filed them smooth.
Watching He Siming concentrate so carefully, worried about clipping too deep, Jiang Rong’s heart started racing for no reason.
In the half year they had known each other, they had done just about everything they should—and shouldn’t—have done. Yet moments like this, with He Siming being so pure and earnest, were rare. Today, he hadn’t even said a single flirtatious line.
Jiang Rong liked this version of He Siming too—the image of the aloof campus heartthrob he had first seen. But there was a trace of sadness in his eyes, making him different from the stereotypical cold school idol. Jiang Rong knew He Siming was upset because of him, and he wanted to comfort him but didn’t know how.
“He Siming, I want to kiss you,” Jiang Rong said honestly.
He Siming stopped trimming, moved the clippers aside, and looked up at him. “Okay.”
Jiang Rong slowly leaned down, but just as he was about to touch He Siming’s lips, he suddenly stopped.
“Forget it. I’m sick—I can’t pass germs to you.”
As soon as he finished speaking, He Siming leaned in and kissed him anyway. “I’m not afraid.”
Though it was just a brief touch, He Siming’s gaze told Jiang Rong he wanted much more.
Jiang Rong hurriedly covered his mouth. “No. I don’t want you to get sick.”
“Alright.” He Siming chuckled softly. For once, he didn’t press further. Instead, he knelt on one knee again and continued trimming Jiang Rong’s nails.
This was a rare moment of pure, gentle warmth for them.
After all ten fingernails were done, Jiang Rong felt much more comfortable, and He Siming felt a strong sense of accomplishment.
The fever had still drained a lot of Jiang Rong’s energy. Unlike before—when he could tough it out through a fever and still be lively the next day—this time he was truly worn out.
He Siming took two days off for Jiang Rong to rest at home. After the fever, Jiang Rong’s whole body ached, and he spent two days lying in bed sleeping.
During those two weekdays, while Jiang Rong slept at home, He Siming found time to go to the hospital to see Xu Mingzhuo.
“If even the doctors at your hospital can’t do anything, then we’ll spend money to hire better specialists,” He Siming said.
“I can live without a child, but I can’t live without Jiang Rong.”
“It’s not at that point yet,” Xu Mingzhuo replied. “I still have connections in the medical field. Jiang Rong is at twenty weeks now—just five months. We still have time to discuss options. This is a special case; you have to give the experts some time.”
“I understand,” He Siming said.
He still felt powerless, hating that he hadn’t yet grown to the point where he had connections all over the world.
In the end, he still called his parents, who might have been abroad or back in the country.
Just after landing, He Zhixian said, “It’s that serious? I’ll talk to your uncle. If we can invite experts with money, we’ll do it. No matter how much it costs—we’ll secure their time first.”
“Thank you, Dad.”
After that, he called his mother.
“Something like this?” Xu Mingqin said. “I’m scheduled to return to the capital next week. I’ll go see your uncle then and talk to him. How did it get this serious?”
“Because it’s a special case. His body isn’t the same as other people’s.”
“I understand.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
During those two days, a lot also happened at school. He Siming once again became the center of attention. After Professor Wen’s popularity faded, his own started to rise again.
The biggest buzz was still the incident of him carrying Jiang Rong to the infirmary. Someone passing by had filmed it, perfectly capturing his “boyfriend power.”
The “boyfriend power” post was discussed enthusiastically, and gossip threads still depended on the campus heartthrob for traffic.
Post excerpts:
10F: Campus heartthrob’s boyfriend power is insane. Is it just me, or does it feel like he already has someone?
12F: I actually saw him kissing a guy in a classroom once.
17F: One night I saw him holding hands with a guy on the road—he even lowered his head and kissed him. The vibes were perfect.
22F: I run into him in the cafeteria all the time. He’s always standing with another guy getting food.
23F: Is it that person who always wears a mask and bundles himself up? That must be his partner, right?
25F: I heard it’s his roommate—gentle-looking, they often go to and from class together.
45F: I’ve seen them together a lot too. This semester, he’s practically inseparable from another guy. Could it be that he actually likes men?
66F: His roommate? I remember one of his roommates is gay. Is that who you mean? Probably from the south—really afraid of the cold, always bundled up.
97F: That must be it—the build looks very similar!
Yao Shule laughed so hard reading the post that his stomach hurt.
“These people are geniuses. I’m dying—how did I become He Siming’s boyfriend?”
Li Yizhou glanced at him and opened the forum’s trending post. “But that silhouette really does look like you. And it was taken in the cafeteria.”
“That’s not wrong. I line up with He Siming for food—he gets food for Rongrong, and I help grab soup. And that still gets photographed? I’m impressed.”
“What about this one? In the supermarket—you two are squatting together choosing snacks.”
“Supermarket? That should’ve been three people. How did they only get me? Rongrong was standing on his left. He said Rongrong might get dizzy squatting, so only the two of us squatted down.”
“There are quite a few photos. Even I’m in some. Damn it—why isn’t there a single comment about me?”
Yao Shule laughed himself half to death over the ridiculous thread.
When Jiang Rong returned to school after two days of rest, he overheard Yao Shule chatting with Lin Nana about something he didn’t quite understand.
“They actually think I’m a couple with He Siming. Isn’t that hilarious?”
“Yao Shule, proximity breeds affection. Have you never had feelings for He Siming? Just tell me—are you the person in those photos?”
“The person in the photos is me, but not all of them. Look at this one with the mask—that’s clearly Rongrong. And let me add, I have no thoughts about He Siming. I had a boyfriend before.”
“But in these pictures, you and He Siming really do look kind of ambiguous.”
“…”
Jiang Rong was completely confused. “What photos are you talking about?”
“You don’t know? He Siming has a partner—suspected to be Yao Shule.”
Jiang Rong nearly spilled the hot water from his thermos onto the desk. “Huh? Th-that’s outrageous.”
“See?” Yao Shule said smugly. “Rongrong understands me. He doesn’t believe it. Lin Nana, you’re a terrible bestie.”
Lin Nana laughed. “Of course I don’t believe it. But the post is really funny.”
As they were chatting, the class monitor called out energetically, “Yao Shule! Someone’s looking for you!”
“Who?” Yao Shule went out, baffled.
A moment later, he came back cursing.
“What a lunatic!”
“What happened?” Lin Nana asked.
“Why are you so angry?” Jiang Rong asked curiously.
“That underclassman who once confessed to He Siming with ninety-nine roses came to see who beat him!”
“And then?” Jiang Rong found it unbelievable.
“He said I’m not as handsome as him, not as tall, not as fair-skinned, and that He Siming has terrible taste. I was furious!”
Lin Nana craned her neck. “Where is he? You should’ve let me watch. He’s totally obsessed.”
“I cursed him out. He ran off crying.”
“What did you say?”
Yao Shule reenacted confidently:
“I said, you get into a good university and don’t study properly—chasing seniors all day. If He Siming can like me but not you, that’s your problem. I radiate confidence, my charm crushes everything. Look at you—what do you have on me? Scholarships? Homework done? A part-time job? Kid!”
Jiang Rong was stunned. “…” What a mouth.
He Siming entered the classroom just before class started. He and Li Yizhou had gone to the convenience store. Jiang Rong had complained that his mouth felt bland in the morning and wanted seaweed snacks, but he didn’t know which brand he’d eaten before. All his snacks were prepared by He Siming—only He Siming knew which store sold them.
He distributed the other snacks to nearby classmates, then helped Jiang Rong open the seaweed, whispering, “Don’t eat too much—it’ll cause heatiness.”
“Okay,” Jiang Rong replied.
Li Yizhou asked, “Yao Shule, who were you scolding just now?”
Whenever someone offended Yao Shule, his sharp tongue—like poison—could tear them apart without using a single curse word.
Lin Nana happily shared the gossip again.
“I didn’t know about this,” He Siming said.
“It has nothing to do with you,” Yao Shule waved it off. “After I cursed him out, he probably won’t come again. It’s not like chasing idols. But speaking of which—He Siming, I blocked a pursuer for you. Pay up!”
“Alright,” He Siming said, nodding.
He immediately transferred money on his phone.
Ding.
“I was just joking,” Yao Shule said, stunned.
“It’s fine. Keep it. You helped me a lot.”
Yao Shule’s finger trembled as he accepted the transfer. “…That’s a lot.”
Blocking a rumor for ten thousand yuan—He Siming was ridiculously generous.
Lin Nana saw the string of zeros and nearly drooled. “He Siming, give me a chance too! I want to be your rumored girlfriend! I swear I can curse better than Yao Shule!”
“Hey, stop stealing my business!” Yao Shule protested.
“Didn’t you say blessings should be shared? I want to buy merch!”
“Sure,” He Siming replied.
The surrounding classmates joined in.
“Pick me!”
“Me, me, me!”
“I’m a pro at replying to threads!”
“No problem,” He Siming said. “Welcome to my harem.”
Jiang Rong smiled at him. “Do I get to join your harem too?”
“You’re the empress,” He Siming replied. “You manage the harem.”
Jiang Rong said nothing, just crunched on his seaweed. The faint taste of sea salt lingered, and his mouth no longer felt so bland.
So this was what school life was like—lively, human. Compared to this, life among Betas felt more like being a mindless robot: study, study, work, work, with a future that could be seen at a glance.
After the fever incident, Jiang Rong didn’t dare overexert himself anymore. After school, he went straight home to wait for He Siming to feed him dinner. For the past few days, He Siming hardly let him out of his sight—measuring his temperature and blood pressure every night before bed, almost ready to carry the equipment to school.
After dinner at 7:30, Jiang Rong walked slowly on the treadmill to digest. He Siming researched homemade cookies—Jiang Rong had said he wanted teddy-bear biscuits again, so he needed molds and healthy ingredients.
At 8:00 p.m., both were busy with their own things—one wearing radiation-protective clothing and a waist cushion while replying to messages, the other reading an English research paper at the computer.
Jiang Rong replied to Wen Chengxu, then chatted with Yao Shule and the others about homework in the group chat.
Yes—there was more homework again. This time, Jiang Rong could complete it with his classmates, even taking the lead.
Just as he was about to write a few lines of code, his body suddenly stiffened.
“He—He Siming, my stomach… my stomach…”
He Siming thought something was wrong and immediately dropped his mouse, muscles tensing.
“What is it? Your stomach hurts?”
Jiang Rong shook his head. “N-no… it moved. It felt like it kicked just now.”
“It moved?” He Siming was delighted but also broke out in a cold sweat. “As long as it doesn’t hurt… But isn’t he in the reproductive cavity? How could he kick your stomach?”
Jiang Rong laughed. “The reproductive cavity is actually very soft. As he grows, it expands and softens. If it stayed hard, wouldn’t I feel like I was carrying an iron ball every day?”
He Siming froze. “Soft?”
“Mm.”
“That’s amazing…” He Siming said awkwardly. “How did he move? Was he turning over?”
“I don’t know. I just felt my stomach get kicked.”
He Siming squatted in front of him, pressed his ear to Jiang Rong’s belly, and warned sternly, “Little guy, don’t kick Daddy. You can’t make Daddy uncomfortable.”
Jiang Rong laughed. “Don’t put pressure on the baby.”
“Prenatal education is important. We have to start cultivating good habits now—he needs to be an independent baby in the future.”
“You sound like a feudal parent.”
He Siming lifted his head and kissed Jiang Rong’s smiling eyes—but as he did, he saw tears streaming down his face.
He Siming kissed away the crystalline tears. “Why are you crying?”
Jiang Rong hugged his neck tightly, eyes red. “I don’t know… I just want to cry.”
The first fetal movement was magical. He truly realized that he was about to become a father—that in this world, there would be a blood-related family member of his own. He would never be alone again.
He Siming held him tightly, letting him sit in his arms, gently patting his back and giving him a full sense of security.
Perhaps from the emotional surge, Jiang Rong soon fell asleep in his arms.
He Siming carefully laid him in bed, tucked him in, then picked up his phone and went to sit on the sofa in the living room.
He opened the Qin University forum and pressed the “New Post” button.
It was his first time posting there—under his real name.
