Susan stood in front of the stove, her hand on the rim of a cup of milk that had just been heated to a steaming point. Suddenly, she turned to the side and gagged, the movement very subtle, but Chen Hao saw it.

He was eating half a cookie, his cheeks puffed out. "Feeling unwell again?"

"It's nothing." Susan wiped her mouth. "I was a light sleeper last night."

Chen Hao didn't say anything, just watched her pour the milk into the bowl, then put it down without drinking a drop. This was already the third day.

Carl peeked out from the sofa: "You didn't have eggs for breakfast again today."

"I don't want to eat."

Nana stood by the refrigerator, holding a stack of data sheets. "Over the past fourteen days, your protein intake has decreased by 42 percent, your carbohydrate intake has fluctuated abnormally, and your morning heart rate is high."

"Are you keeping track of my meals?" Susan frowned.

“All members’ health data is being continuously monitored,” Nana said. “Medical examinations are recommended.”

“No need.” Susan turned to wash the dishes. “It’s just tiring.”

Chen Hao brushed the cookie crumbs off and walked behind her. "The last time you said you were tired was two days before the lab explosion."

Carl rolled his eyes: "You even threw up the duty roster that time."

Nana added, "The current symptoms match the physiological reactions in early pregnancy by 89 percent."

The air paused for a second.

"Wait a minute." Chen Hao looked up. "You mean...pregnant?"

"It's just speculation," Nana said. "The hospital needs to confirm."

Susan didn't reply, her fingers gripping the rim of the bowl, her knuckles turning slightly white.

Chen Hao grabbed his coat: "Let's go to the hospital."

"Really, you don't need to—"

“This isn’t something to discuss.” He picked up his bag. “Even a blood test would be helpful.”

The three men surrounded her, their eyes meeting. Susan sighed and took off her apron.

The hospital corridor was bright, and the smell of disinfectant was not strong. They sat outside the gynecology clinic, the chairs lined up in a row.

Chen Hao paced back and forth. On the fifth trip, he stopped and asked Carl, "You said we're going to be dads, can I handle it?"

Carl flipped through the parenting magazine in his hand; the cover featured a baby. "You're only starting to get scared now?"

"I'm not scared," Chen Hao said, leaning against the wall. "I'm panicked. I can't even find my own socks."

Nana sat on the far side, her blue eye lights flashing incessantly. "My knowledge base contains 3,726 records, including pregnancy care models, fetal development cycles, delivery procedures, and newborn feeding plans."

"Can you recite it from memory?" Carl asked.

“Everything is available,” she said, “but human emotional support is not in the default program.”

Chen Hao sat down, placing his hands on his knees. "If I really get pregnant, I won't be able to stay up all night playing games anymore."

"You still want to fight?" Susan leaned back in her chair, her voice soft.

“Just kidding.” He took her hand. “I mean…life has completely changed.”

Susan didn't pull her hand away; instead, she gripped it tighter.

The call machine beeped: "Susan, consultation room number three."

The doctor, who wore glasses and was in his forties, reviewed the lab results. "HCG levels are elevated, progesterone is normal, and the ultrasound showed an intrauterine gestational sac, around six weeks along."

She turned the screen towards them. A small dot lay quietly in the black and white image.

Chen Hao's throat moved. "This is... a child?"

"The embryo already has a heartbeat," the doctor nodded. "Although we can't hear it yet, it's already a little life."

Carl jumped up, his chair sliding back half a meter. "Are we going to be uncles and aunts?"

Nana leaned closer to the screen, and the blue light flashed rapidly. "A weak pulsation signal was detected, with a frequency of 110 times per minute, consistent with early embryonic characteristics." She turned her head and said, "It is recommended to immediately start a nutritional supplementation program, avoid caffeine intake, and adjust your sleep schedule."

Susan looked at Chen Hao. His lips moved a few times, then he suddenly smiled, his eyes a little moist.

"We... are going to have a baby."

Susan nodded, her eyes also reddening.

The doctor smiled and handed over a piece of paper: "These are the initial precautions. Don't be too nervous, and keep a calm mind."

Chen Hao took the paper, his hands trembling slightly. He folded it, stuffed it into his pocket, then took it out again and stuffed it back in.

"Can I take a picture?" Carl asked, holding up his phone. "Just this ultrasound image."

"Yes," the doctor agreed.

With a click, the photo was saved to the phone's album. Carl immediately posted it in the group chat, with the caption: "[A historic moment: our team has officially upgraded to a family unit.]"

On the way back, the four of them squeezed into the back seat. Susan sat by the window, her hand on her lower abdomen.

Chen Hao sat beside her, never letting go of her hand. "What... do you think?"

"I was stunned," she said, "but I don't regret it."

Carl held his phone, zooming in on the ultrasound image repeatedly. "Look at this tiny dot, doesn't it look like when we lit up our first energy module?"

Nana said, "The similarity is 63%. Both are processes of energy accumulation from nothing to something."

"You can even compare like that?" Chen Hao laughed.

"I'm just stating the facts."

As the car turned the corner, streetlights flashed past the window. Chen Hao gazed outside, watching the city lights move across the landscape.

"We need to learn to be adults."

No one answered. But Carl put his phone away, Nana closed the research simulation program running in the background, and Susan slowly rested her head on his shoulder.

Back at their apartment building, the four of them got out of the car. The night breeze was a bit chilly, ruffling Susan's hair.

Chen Hao suddenly squatted down.

"What are you doing?" Carl asked.

He didn't answer, but placed his palm on Susan's stomach and pressed gently.

“Hey, little one inside.” His voice softened. “I’m your dad. From now on, you’re in charge of the Wi-Fi password at home, but you can’t use the game account until you’re eighteen.”

Susan nudged his shoulder: "Get up, other people are watching."

"Let them see." Chen Hao stood up, patted his pants, and said, "My son and daughter aren't even born yet and they're already trending on social media. What's there to be afraid of?"

Carl took out his phone: "I want to create a growth record document and check in every day."

"I've already enabled the pregnancy log function," Nana said. "It can automatically record fetal movement predictions, prenatal checkup reminders, and nutritional recommendations."

"You even have this?" Chen Hao stared wide-eyed.

"The database has been updated to the latest medical guidelines," she said. "In addition, it is recommended to replace carpets at home to reduce the risk of dust mites."

"Okay, okay, we'll buy a new one tomorrow." Chen Hao put his arm around Susan's shoulder. "We'll change everything for the sake of the child."

The four people entered the building, with lights shining down from above. The stairwell was quiet, and their footsteps were clear.

Upon reaching the second-floor platform, Chen Hao suddenly stopped.

"By the way," he said, looking at Susan, "have you thought of a name yet?"

Susan shook her head.

"The boy's name is Chen Guang," he said. "The girl's name is Chen Xing."

"Light and Stars?" Carl laughed. "You want your child to inherit our project?"

"No." Chen Hao grinned. "I hope that whatever he/she does in the future, it will shine a little brighter."

The blue light flashed slowly once.

“The naming scheme has been entered into the system,” she said. “The alternative names are ‘Chen Neng’ and ‘Chen Yuan,’ both of which are related to energy and have a high degree of matching.”

“Stop,” Susan laughed. “Don’t make it sound like a research project number.”

“I think Chen Guang is pretty good,” Karl nodded. “Sounds like he can withstand being struck by lightning.”

"Shut up." Chen Hao shoved him.

They continued uphill. Their steps were slow, as if afraid of disturbing something.

As he inserted the key into the lock, Chen Hao glanced back at the stairwell.

It's empty.

But he seemed to see the future: a child walking unsteadily, followed by three adults.

A fat man bent down and shouted "Slow down!" A female robot reached out to protect him, and another man wearing glasses yelled "Don't touch the socket!"

The door opened.

Chen Hao was the last to enter, and casually kicked the old slippers from the bottom shelf of the shoe cabinet aside.

It's empty there.