Chapter 30

Village Head Zhou paced at home with a grim face.

The village's attitude had swung toward Huo Lin over the past few days. Because of the conscription matter, the villagers had already lost much trust in him—even if he explained it was a secret order and that he didn't know about it either, the villagers definitely still had a grudge against him.

Now Huo Lin had pulled off such a big achievement.

Although the villagers weren't yet familiar with Huo Lin, they still felt that since Huo Lin had become a high official, he should be someone important in the village—it's just that his last name is Huo, not Zhou, so the clan hadn't really rallied behind him yet.

He didn't need to hear it to know what the villagers were thinking, and—

Zhou Shuyao, having heard an earful, went home and grumbled: "That Huo Lin—what kind of dumb luck did he stumble into, actually coming back alive! Fine, he came back, but then he went and did something this huge. If he'd just kept it to himself, fine, but no—he had to go and make the whole village owe him. Dad, how's that gonna look for you?"

Village Head Zhou shot him a fierce glare: "What face do I even have left? I'll just hand the village head job over to him, and you won't be some young lord anymore, got it?! What, you think the village head job is passed down in the family?!"

This useless brat would say anything—why hasn't someone beaten him to death yet? One day Huo Lin's gonna beat him to death.

Zhou Shuyao rubbed his nose and didn't dare say a word. His dad was really pissed. It was all Huo Lin's fault! Why did he have to come back!

Ever since he came back, Chen Jue looked a lot better. When Zhou Shuyao walked past him, he didn't even give him a second look, spending all his time with Huo Lin, always together.

Village Head Zhou looked at him coldly: "All of you stay the hell away from Huo Lin from now on. He was already cold and distant when he had no power; now that he's got power, who knows what he might do. Don't give him a reason to hold a grudge against us. You—"

He pointed at Zhou Shuyao: "Stay away from his man. That Huo Lin is not someone you mess with. As long as you don't cause me any trouble, I'll be happy."

Zhou Shuyao was both embarrassed and flustered: "I didn't do anything!"

Village Head Zhou told him to scram.

After yelling at his most useless youngest son to get lost, Village Head Zhou felt a bit better.

He figured he was worrying over nothing.

It had been days, and Huo Lin hadn't come to settle the score with him—which meant he didn't know about the collusion.

If that was the case, they could keep on coexisting peacefully.

Or maybe one day, Huo Lin would just move away.

If Huo Lin really took that Regional Commander job, he'd definitely move out of their little village—which would be just what he wanted;

If Huo Lin turned down the Regional Commander job and refused to leave the village, continuing to live here, then that proved he didn't give a damn about power, and sure as hell wouldn't care about his own tiny position as village head.

And he wouldn't go out of his way to make trouble for a small fry like him.

Thinking about how aloof and standoffish Huo Lin was,

Village Head Zhou couldn't quite put his finger on what he felt. Huo Lin didn't show him much respect—that had bugged him at the time, but now it was a relief.

A man like Huo Lin had the heart of a wolf king; he wouldn't stoop to mess with small fry like him.

From now on, they'd remember not to provoke him—just like before, treat him like a rock at the foot of the mountain.

Village Head Zhou decided to stay out of Huo Lin's way and let him be.

The other villagers were only excited about Huo Lin for a few days. When they saw he was still as cold and aloof as ever, they didn't want to keep kissing up to him when he was so cold, and even the number of people coming to Chen Jue for treatment dropped off.

The Huo house got quiet and lonely again.

Chen Jue wasn't swayed by the windfall from Huo Lin's reward. He still did his own thing every day, staring at Huo Lin day in and day out.

Both of them pretending, both of them testing each other.

Chen Jue didn't know why he used that word—it was just a feeling he couldn't quite put into words.

Because of this Huo Lin's arrival, Chen Jue's days had been thrown into disarray, and because he bore a face so similar to his enemy's, his mind was greatly preoccupied—

So much so that he nearly forgot Zhang Yan's due date was approaching.

Zhang Yan's belly had grown heavier these past few days, and he'd also been thinking of giving the couple some time alone, so he'd been visiting Chen Jue less often.

He figured there were still a few days until delivery—the old Chinese medicine practitioner in the county said he might give birth around the Mid-Autumn Festival.

Zhang Yan thought that was a good day. He'd already picked out the name—Yuanyuan. How nice it sounded.

He planned to go talk to Chen Jue when it got closer to ease his fears, but he never expected labor to come early—a full ten days before Mid-Autumn Festival.

When he saw blood in the morning, Zhang Yan frantically told Zhou Dajiang. His mother-in-law had said that seeing blood meant labor was beginning.

"Hurry, hurry, go get Jue Geer!" Zhang Yan said, clutching his belly. The pain was getting worse.

The first person he wanted to see in that moment was actually Chen Jue—not his mother, not the midwife. He wanted to see Chen Jue.

Zhou Dajiang obeyed him, running all the way up to call Chen Jue: "Jue Geer, come quick! Yan Geer is going into labor! He's scared and wants to see you!"

Chen Jue had just gotten up not long ago and was brushing his teeth. He spat out the salt water and immediately said, "Have you sent for the midwife?!"

Zhou Dajiang said, "I'm going now!"

Chen Jue put down his toothbrush, quickly washed his face, and headed for the door. When he reached the doorway, he remembered something, turned back quickly, grabbed the medicine pouch he'd prepared earlier from the medicine shelf, then headed out again—but halfway, he turned back and went into the room.

Huo Lin, who was cooking in the kitchen, came out and saw him struggling to climb onto the kang, so he hurried to support him: "What are you looking for?"

Chen Jue opened his dowry chest. Inside was a cloth pouch, and from it he took out two ginseng roots, already three fingers thick, estimated to be thirty years old.

Huo Lin's mouth twitched slightly—he probably hadn't expected his husband to have stashed away such treasures. No wonder he didn't want his silver. Seeing how carefully he'd stored them, was it inappropriate for him to be watching this?

Only then did Chen Jue notice him. He tucked one ginseng root into his chest, put the other back, and locked the chest again.

"Careful climbing down." Huo Lin couldn't help but steady him as he backed down, as if forgetting that he himself was also over seven months pregnant.

"Slow down, I'll go with you." Huo Lin was worried after all, so he went with him down to Zhang Yan's house. Zhang Yan's place wasn't too far from theirs compared to other households—but that was only because apart from Uncle Liu, no one else lived near the Huo household.

So in reality, it was still a long walk.

Chen Jue walked fast, his seven-month belly bouncing like he was carrying a basketball. He supported it with one hand while the other swung through the air, and Huo Lin had to keep pace with him.

It was the first time he'd seen Chen Jue so anxious. His expression was taut, as if something were pulling tightly at his nerves.

It wasn't until they reached Zhang Yan's doorstep that he stopped, taking deep breaths at the entrance. A moment later, he put on a smile and went in like he was putting on a performance.

"Jue Geer, come in quickly." Aunt Zhou called to him.

Normally, a pregnant man wasn't allowed in during childbirth, but because Chen Jue had saved Xiaohua, Aunt Zhou trusted him deeply. With Chen Jue there, she inexplicably felt at ease.

"How is he? Zhang Yan?" He always called people by their names. Zhang Yan and the others had gotten used to it and liked that he did—it had his surname, making him feel like an independent person.

Zhang Yan was already lying on the kang. Seeing him come, he waved him over: "I'm in pain."

Chen Jue sat on the edge of the kang bed, took hold of Zhang Yan's wrist, and felt his pulse.

Huo Lin couldn't come inside, so he stayed in the courtyard outside, splitting firewood with Uncle Zhou.

Aunt Zhou had already begun boiling water with brisk, deft movements. The baby's diapers and little clothes were all hung out on the rack in the yard, letting the sun air them out, all set to welcome the little one.

Since the midwife hadn't arrived yet, Chen Jue asked Zhang Yan about how often his pain came while feeling his pulse. Zhang Yan said the pain had started the night before—at first it came in spurts, then by morning it came at intervals, and when he got up to use the bathroom, he saw blood on his underpants.

Chen Jue drew on his past experience, then felt his stomach and said with a smile, "Don't worry, it'll still be a while before the baby's born."

Zhang Yan was a first-time parent, and first births always take longer.

"How much longer will it be?" Zhang Yan wasn't as nervous now.

Chen Jue thought for a moment and said, "The baby'll be here before evening."

Zhang Yan let out an "Ah" and said, "That long?"

"That's not long at all. It's your first time, so it's bound to be slower."

"How are you feeling? Come on, get up and walk around a bit—I'll help you." Chen Jue looked at the belly on the bed, which was even bigger than Zhang Yan's whole body, and said.

Zhang Yan had delicate features. By this world's standards, he fit the "ge'er" ideal perfectly—delicate and petite, almost like a young woman.

His pelvis was especially narrow.

Chen Jue's heart sank slightly. That was why, from the sixth month on, he'd told Zhang Yan to eat less. Zhang Yan's family was well-off and made sure he ate his fill at every meal, but all the nutrition seemed to go straight to the baby. And that wasn't the main issue—the real problem was the baby's head was big.

Chen Jue's heart tightened, but his face stayed calm and composed. He always wore a cold expression, and Zhang Yan was used to it. In that moment, he even felt grateful for his calmness—seeing him like this, he didn't panic at all.

Chen Jue helped Zhang Yan pace back and forth in the courtyard for about an hour before Zhou Dajiang finally came back with the midwife.

The midwife checked how dilated Zhang Yan's cervix was and said with a smile, "No rush, it's still early. We'll have to wait a bit longer."

Another two hours passed, and Zhang Yan was in so much pain he couldn't stand anymore. The midwife urged Aunt Zhou to boil hot water and brew the herbal medicine.

Chen Jue looked at the medicine packet—it was the usual labor-inducing decoction.

Zhang Yan endured the pain and drank it all, and then the contractions came even more intensely.

But after more time passed, with the sun now hanging high in the sky, his cervix had only dilated one finger's width. The midwife, Aunt Zhao, felt Zhang Yan's belly, then looked at his lower body, and furrowed her brow almost imperceptibly. Chen Jue caught it with his sharp observation.

While stepping out to fetch hot water, Chen Jue asked her, "Aunt Zhao, tell me honestly—is Zhang Yan's dilation going smoothly?"

Aunt Zhao looked at his own protruding belly and tried to brush him off: "Jue Ge'er, you're pregnant too, so don't keep running back and forth. Just wait outside."

Childbirth was frightening—she didn't want to scare him into trouble. That's what Aunt Zhao thought, and she wanted Chen Jue to wait outside.

But inside, Zhang Yan started calling for Chen Jue again: "Jue Ge'er, it hurts, it hurts so much!"

Chen Jue called back to him, "I'm brewing medicine for you, I'll be right there."

He had Zhou Dajiang re-brew the medicine he'd brought over a slow fire. Zhou Dajiang was already sweating profusely from anxiety, having been pacing in the courtyard the whole time, with the midwife telling him to keep the water boiling.

Chen Jue stared at his big forehead.

He shouldn't be called Dajiang—he should be called Zhou Bighead.

There wasn't a hint of mockery in Chen Jue's thoughts; he was just weighed down by the heaviness in his heart.

Author's note:

Saturday, Qingming Festival, there'll be an extra chapter. Thanks everyone for your comments and support!