In the study, Huo Jingyuan heard the sound of footsteps leaving.
He set down his fountain pen, stood up, and walked to the door, watching as Wen Ci escorted the little ones out.
Then, with firm and unhurried steps, he approached Wen Ci from behind, wrapped his arm around her waist, and reached out with his other hand to lock the door.
The man’s warm breath brushed against her ear, and when he felt her body tremble slightly, he curled his lips into a smirk.
“It’s nighttime. Now tell me—what does ‘little tadpoles’ mean?”
Wen Ci: “…”
So this shameless man wasn’t up to anything else—he just wanted to know what little tadpoles meant.
She smiled teasingly. “Captain Huo, so eager to learn?”
“Shouldn’t I be?”
But recalling what Wen Ci had said—”Whether or not you have twins usually depends on how strong the man’s little tadpoles are.”—he had a vague idea of its meaning.
As soon as he finished speaking, Huo Jingyuan lifted her into a bridal carry and brought her back to the room.
The cold air outside instantly vanished as they entered, replaced by the warmth of the room.
“Ah Ci.”
Huo Jingyuan’s voice was deep and rich, laced with restrained desire.
His gaze burned as he looked at the woman in his arms.
“Let’s not have children yet, okay?”
“Why?” Wen Ci narrowed her eyes slightly.
“Give me a few years. We’ll have children once we return to the capital.”
The medical conditions in the Northwest were worlds apart from those in Beijing.
As the nation’s capital, Beijing had access to imported, cutting-edge medical equipment.
He didn’t want his wife to have to go back to Beijing alone while pregnant.
So he wanted to wait a few more years before having children.
Hearing this, Wen Ci understood his reasoning.
She smiled alluringly, then asked slowly, emphasizing every word:
“Captain Huo, you’re already thirty-one years old. If we wait another two years, will your little tadpoles still be up to standard?”
She deliberately stressed the words little tadpoles.
“Why wouldn’t they be?” Huo Jingyuan’s face darkened as he questioned her.
Was his wife doubting his abilities?
Lowering his head, he bit her earlobe.
At the same time, his calloused hand traced along her waist.
The rough texture of his palm rubbed against the soft, fair skin of her waist.
His deep voice carried a teasing tone:
“Tonight, I’ll show you what it means for a treasured blade to never grow dull.”
Nightfall
The dimly lit room was filled with the sound of heavy breathing.
Wen Ci wrapped her arms around the man’s muscular waist, her gaze settling on his chest.
She reached out and gently stroked the spot.
“Does it still hurt?”
Huo Jingyuan had just reached into the drawer for the birth control supplies when he paused, retracting his hand.
His tone was calm as he replied, “I don’t really feel anything.”
Ten years ago, he had suffered far worse wounds on the battlefield.
When the blade pierced his chest, there was a fleeting sensation, but after that, he barely remembered anything.
“Ah Ci, shall we continue?”
His dark eyes burned with unrestrained desire.
Wen Ci’s gaze softened with emotion.
“Can we… not use it?”
She had heard people say that in the 1980s, the quality of birth control products wasn’t great.
They sometimes… stayed inside.
“No.”
His voice carried an undeniable urgency.
The Next Morning
Huo Jingyuan stood on the morning training field, looking both refreshed and gloomy at the same time.
The political commissar, noticing his grim expression, couldn’t help but ask,
“What’s with the dead face first thing in the morning?”
Huo Jingyuan shot him a glance and asked,
“Do you know who invented birth control?”
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