Gu Jianing took one look at his expression and knew he didn’t believe her. She couldn’t help but let out a light huff. “I’m telling the truth. They say mothers have a special connection with their babies—I just know I’m pregnant.”
Seeing how serious she was, Sheng Zexi’s attitude also turned earnest.
After witnessing Gu Jianing’s medical skills firsthand and having his own body healed, it wasn’t as if he hadn’t hoped for a child.
But was it really possible?
Recalling the numerous hospital visits after his mission injury—each ending in disappointment—Sheng Zexi hardly dared to hope.
“What should we do now? Should we find a doctor to check your pulse, or go to the hospital for tests?”
“If it’s only been a month, pulse diagnosis probably won’t detect it. But a blood test could confirm it,” Gu Jianing said.
“Then should we go for a blood test?”
“Let’s go.”
“Alright, but we should eat lunch first.”
“Okay.”
Sheng Zexi hurried to the kitchen and soon prepared two dishes—one meat, one vegetable—along with soup and steamed rice.
After their meal, Sheng Zexi bundled Gu Jianing up in layers of clothes, scarves, and a hat before holding her hand as they walked to the military hospital.
Since it was New Year’s Eve, only a skeleton staff was on duty, and the hospital was nearly empty.
Coincidentally, Dr. Hao was the gynecologist on call.
After hearing their situation, Dr. Hao said, “At just one month, pulse diagnosis would indeed be unreliable. A blood test would be more accurate.”
“But are you sure you don’t want to wait? It could just be a delayed period.”
After all, Gu Jianing had mentioned her irregular cycles, frequent delays, and past issues with dysmenorrhea.
Dr. Hao leaned toward skepticism—women with such conditions often struggled with conception.
Sheng Zexi privately shared her doubts, but he left the decision to Gu Jianing.
Without hesitation, Gu Jianing said, “Dr. Hao, please arrange the blood test.”
*How could the system’s results be wrong?*
*Just wait, Sheng Zexi—when the results come out, I’ll make your jaw drop!*
“Very well, let’s proceed with the test.”
Soon, a nurse drew Gu Jianing’s blood.
“The results may take two days. As you can see, we’re short-staffed during the holidays,” Dr. Hao explained.
They nodded understandingly, agreeing to return in two days for the results.
As they were leaving, Gu Jianing caught sight of a familiar figure—Peng Wenjing.
The latter turned and hurried away the moment she saw them, as if terrified of their presence.
*Gu Jianing: Seems Peng Wenjing has truly given up on Sheng Zexi. Good—saves me the trouble.*
Back home, Gu Jianing began rummaging through their wardrobe for outfits.
“Changing clothes?” Sheng Zexi wrapped his arms around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder.
“Of course. Not just nice clothes—I’m doing full makeup too,” she declared.
“For tonight’s New Year’s Eve performance?”
“Mm.” She turned to glare at him. “And because a certain someone’s troublesome admirer will be there. I heard she’s the star performer of the Capital’s cultural troupe. I can’t let myself be outshone.”
Sheng Zexi laughed helplessly. “That’s impossible.”
“What’s impossible?”
“No one could outshine you, because I’d never compare you to anyone else.” His voice turned solemn. “To me, my wife is the most beautiful, most capable woman alive. You have no idea how my subordinates and comrades envy me for marrying you. I’m proud every single day.”
Sheng Zexi spoke nothing but the truth—no woman except Gu Jianing could ever catch his eye.
His wife, Gu Jianing, meant everything to him. How could he ever compare her to others? That would only demean her.
Gu Jianing burst into laughter at his words, her jade-white fingers poking his chest playfully as she lifted her chin with pride. “Well, you certainly should be proud.”
Then she giggled uncontrollably.
“Alright, alright—why don’t you help me pick an outfit?”
“Sure. I think this one looks nice.”
“I like this one too.”
…
In Huaihua Village, New Year’s Eve was livelier than ever, every household decorated in vibrant red.
The entire Gu family had gathered at the ancestral home for the reunion dinner.
The feast was lavish—though compared to previous years, one seat remained empty.
Yao Chunhua couldn’t help but feel melancholic, as did the others. But soon, the patriarch spoke up:
“Tonight is New Year’s Eve—no long faces! That boy Zexi is reliable. He’ll take good care of Ningning. Besides, she just called yesterday—she’s doing well at the Northwest Military District.”
“We should be happy too. Look how far we’ve come: Eldest is a factory worker now, his wife is pregnant, and Ningning married into a good family. I believe this new year will bring even more blessings to the Gu family.”
“Father’s right,” Gu Yunting chimed in. “Ningning wouldn’t want us moping over her absence. Our family’s fortunes are rising—we should celebrate!”
One by one, the others echoed his sentiment, sharing hopes for an even brighter year ahead.
Meanwhile, at the Northwest Military District, after dinner, as Sheng Zexi led Gu Jianing toward the auditorium, she glanced up—only to find no moon in sight. A pang of loneliness struck her.
“Brother Xi… do you think they can’t see the moon in Huaihua Village either?” she murmured absently. But tonight was supposed to be for reunions.
Sheng Zexi paused, then pulled her close. “Missing home?”
A soft “Mm” escaped her, voice tinged with restrained emotion.
Looking back on her past life now, Gu Jianing realized how aimlessly she’d lived—never truly appreciating her family, never cherishing them properly.
But this second chance had deepened her emotions, made her more attuned to the people around her, more sensitive to every shift in feeling.
Was this change for better or worse?
For a fleeting moment, doubt crept in—had she truly been reborn?
Or was all this just a dream, nothing more than Zhuangzi’s butterfly illusion?
“Ningning.”
The instant the thought formed, Sheng Zexi’s voice snapped her back. His arms wrapped around her—tighter than usual, anchoring her firmly in the present.
Not a dream.
At the very least, this embrace was undeniably real.
—
Zhuangzi’s “Butterfly Dream,” also known as “The Butterfly Illusion,” is a famous philosophical story in which the author Zhuangzi, a Daoist philosopher, dreams he is a butterfly. Upon waking, he wonders if he is the man who dreamt he was a butterfly or a butterfly now dreaming he is a man. This story explores the nature of reality, the subjective experience of perception, and the difficulty of distinguishing between dream and reality.
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