The delivery room door finally opened from the inside. Xie Yushu’s legs went weak—she stumbled forward two steps, bracing herself against the wall. She took a deep breath to steady herself, then strode inside.
The room had been cleaned up—all traces of blood washed away, leaving only the faint scent of soapberry. Xie Yushu hurried to Su Chi’s side.
The room was warm, the silver charcoal still burning tirelessly. Su Chi had exhausted himself during labor; his face was covered in sweat, and he lay weakly, eyelids heavy, as if he didn’t even have the strength to open them.
His lips moved, about to call her name, but before he could, his hand was gently taken.
Then a warm, wet kiss landed on his hand. Xie Yushu leaned over, raised her hand to wipe his sweat, her voice hoarse and raw: “You worked so hard.”
Su Chi looked around weakly, then turned to her with a hint of grievance: “Yushu… where’s our baby?”
“Taken to the next room to be cleaned—Father is watching over them.” She tucked the blanket around him, her voice soft, coaxing: “Get some sleep, alright? When you wake up, you’ll see the baby.”
Hearing that, with her by his side, Su Chi seemed to relax and closed his eyes.
He didn’t wake until noon the next day. His complexion was much better than the pale exhaustion of the night before.
Xie Yushu had changed him into clean clothes, and Wang Wen brought over a nourishing soup that had been simmering on low heat all night, carefully blowing on it so Su Chi wouldn’t burn himself.
Su Chi drank quickly, wanting to finish and hold the baby sooner.
Xie Yushu patted his back gently, telling him to slow down: “Becoming a father made you impatient?” She coaxed him into eating half a bowl of soft rice, and only after he’d finished was he allowed to hold the baby.
The baby lay beside him, a tiny bundle, fists clenched tight, face red and wrinkled, eyes still closed, sleeping soundly.
One look and Su Chi’s heart melted.
This was his and Xie Yushu’s child. There was already a hint of delicate refinement in those tiny features—it was clear they’d grow up beautiful.
A little ge’er, with a faint pink dot between their brows, barely noticeable unless you looked closely—a mark from birth, as if someone had dabbed a touch of rouge there. It was lovely.
Su Chi held the baby and wouldn’t let go. The little one in his swaddling clothes was so light, barely weighing anything—he didn’t know how to cherish them enough, afraid of holding too tight and hurting them, or too loose and dropping them.
Wang Wen guided the young couple on how to hold the baby—how to support the head, how to support the back, which spots were delicate and not to be touched. Both of them listened carefully.
He couldn’t help smiling: “This child is the most beautiful I’ve ever seen. They must take after you both.”
Then he slipped out quietly, leaving them alone.
Su Chi reached out and touched the baby’s tiny fist—so small and pink he didn’t dare apply any pressure. Xie Yushu’s large hand came from behind, gently covering both of theirs, wrapping that pink little fist and Su Chi’s hand together in her palm—the three of them, hand in hand.
Then she pulled them both into her arms.
Su Chi held the baby, leaning against Xie Yushu, feeling that life couldn’t be more complete.
Before long, Xiuwei entered with a bowl of warm liquid: “Boss, the milk is heated.”
Xie Yushu took the bowl and said to Su Chi: “We’ll feed it to the little one when they wake up.”
Xie Yushu always thought of everything when it came to Su Chi and the baby.
Before the baby was born, she’d been asking around, and after some effort, had found a family that kept cows.
Cows were precious—strictly regulated by the authorities, not allowed to be slaughtered casually—but milking was permitted. That was only for cattle owners, though. For ordinary people, even affording one cow for farming was hard enough, let alone hoping to drink its milk.
There were plenty of farms and cottages on the outskirts of Tang’an County, but not many cattle farms. Xie Yushu had put in quite some effort to find one that kept black-and-white spotted cows.
Raising work cows was already expensive—let alone keeping one specifically for milking.
First, there was the feed. Second, the milk itself was precious—the owners didn’t drink it themselves. If they were to sell to wealthy households, they needed a stable client. If the arrangement was irregular, the business wouldn’t last—it wouldn’t be worth it.
So though there were a few cattle farms on the outskirts, only a handful could supply fresh milk every day.
Xie Yushu had searched far and wide before finally finding one. But she didn’t settle immediately. Instead, she toured the farm carefully, inside and out.
The cowshed was dry and well-ventilated, the floor covered in a layer of straw. The clean troughs held freshly chopped hay mixed with bean cake crumbs, giving off a faint, fresh scent. Even the cows looked healthy—their coats glossy, their eyes clear and bright as they regarded this stranger. After eating their fill, they lost interest and lay down lazily—clearly well cared for.
Xie Yushu knew at once this was a family that knew how to raise cattle.
The farm kept four yellow oxen for plowing and two black-and-white spotted cows specifically for milking.
When the farmer saw how neatly and cleanly Xie Yushu was dressed and how crisply she spoke, she carefully asked about her business. Learning that Xie Yushu wanted fresh milk delivered daily, she immediately broke into a smile and invited her inside.
She brought out a clay jar, lifted the lid, and proudly showed it to Xie Yushu: “Take a look, miss—this is my cow’s milk.”
Xie Yushu looked down—it was indeed excellent.
A thick layer of cream had set on the surface, quivering slightly, milky white with a faint beige tint. The slightly gamey, rich aroma of fresh milk hit her nose—full and fragrant.
Xie Yushu was satisfied and placed the order on the spot.
She and the farmer agreed: after the baby was born, the farmer would milk the cows fresh every morning and deliver two jars to the Xie household on Hedong Lane—paid daily.
Not having raised a child before, Xie Yushu wasn’t sure exactly how much milk the baby would need. They’d start with one jar, and if that wasn’t enough, they’d order more.
The second jar was for Su Chi—to keep his health strong.
She noticed the farmer’s clay jars were larger than standard ones, so two jars should be enough.
The farmer happily agreed, promising to send only the best milk. She was confident in her cows, saying if there were any problems, Xie Yushu could come straight to her.
She could tell this woman knew quality, understood that milk was nourishing for both adults and children.
On the way back, Xie Yushu felt relieved—at least she’d found milk. With fresh milk, Su Chi and the baby would grow strong and healthy.
No sooner had she spoken than the little one in Su Chi’s arms seemed to understand. They woke up, mouth puckering, and burst into loud crying before their eyes even opened—their stomach empty and hungry.
Su Chi scooped up a spoonful of warm milk, took a sip to check the temperature, then fed the baby spoonful by spoonful.
He’d been drinking this precious milk for a few days now. At first, he’d found it strange—the milky smell made him frown—but after two days, he’d come to like it. His wife said it would help the baby grow well.
Back in the village, babies were fed with flour paste—or, if families were better off, rice porridge. Who’d ever heard of something as precious as milk?
One jar cost three hundred wen; two jars were six hundred—a full six qian of silver.
But Su Chi didn’t hesitate. As long as the baby loved it and it helped them grow healthy, he’d spend whatever it cost.
The baby tasted the milk and stopped crying immediately, eagerly sucking from the spoon, swallowing mouthful after mouthful with soft smacking sounds.
Tears still clung to the corners of their eyes. Su Chi’s heart ached. He leaned down and gently nuzzled the baby’s tender face, his nose brushing the soft, milky skin—barely daring to press.
Soon, the small bowl was empty. The baby, full and content, drifted back to sleep. Su Chi gently wiped the milk from their lips, his face full of love.
·
More than a month later, Su Chi had finished his postpartum confinement, just in time for the New Year.
With the new baby in the household, the entire house was filled with festive cheer.
Xie Yushu had had a good year in business, earned well, and become a mother—making this New Year especially satisfying.
She was generous: every worker in town and the county received two bags of fine rice, two bags of fine flour, a slab of braised ribs, two sausages, two bolts of cotton cloth and one of linen, a jar of cooking oil, two packets of brown sugar, and five hundred wen in New Year’s money.
The two newcomers to the household also received rice, oil, salt, and meat, along with generous red envelopes.
Xie Jiu and Xiuwei, naturally, got even more.
It was the first time any of them had received such bonuses—everyone was beaming.
The baby’s name was chosen by Xie Yushu: the formal name was Xie Xuan, and the nickname was Tuan Tuan (Little Round One).
Once Su Chi had finished his confinement, he grabbed his clothes and headed straight to the warm room for a proper bath.
He’d been well cared for during the month—by Xie Yushu, Wang Wen, and Xiuwei—but he was nearly going stir-crazy.
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