Just as Fu Yucheng was about to refuse, Commander Zhang stopped him, saying, "Take it! Yinyin is pregnant, she needs to eat more good food."

Yun Tangyin blushed: "I haven't..."

"Almost there, almost there." Commander Zhang waved his hand. "Look at your energy and spirit, you're sure to have a big, healthy son."

On the way back, Yun Tangyin touched her burning face and smiled, "Why did Commander Zhang say I'm pregnant?"

"He's hoping we'll have a baby soon. Once we do, I'll treat the whole troupe to red eggs."

Yun Tangyin punched him on the back: "You're such a braggart." But the corners of her mouth were turned up really high.

When they arrived home, Jiang Jianhua was sitting in the yard applying varnish to a bamboo screen. "You two are finally back."

She smiled, holding up the brush, "You need to apply three coats of this varnish to bring out the shine of the gold lines."

The dragons and phoenixes on the bamboo screen gleamed in the sunlight, and the dragon scales embroidered with gold thread seemed to shimmer realistically.

Yun Tangyin touched the bamboo screen and laughed, "This is sure to win the top prize."

Fu Yucheng stuffed a package of oil paper into her hand: "This is cured meat from Sister Zhang. I'll stew it with radish for you tomorrow."

He suddenly remembered something, "Is Aunt Zhou's medicine box finished? I'll go get it."

Zhou Mingniang's medicine box was indeed exquisite, with two layers: the upper layer for medicine bottles and the lower layer for gauze, and a small lock was woven along the edge of the lid.

Yun Tangyin lined the medicine box with a piece of flannel: "Now I don't have to worry about the medicine bottles breaking anymore."

As Fu Yucheng tied a red string to the medicine box at night, Yun Tangyin suddenly covered her mouth and yawned.

"Tired?" He put down the rope. "The old Chinese medicine doctor said that you feel sleepy in spring and tired in autumn. You need to rest more."

Yun Tangyin leaned closer to him: "I'm just a little tired."

She suddenly looked up and smiled, "Do you think our child might love weaving bamboo ware like Erzhuzi?"

“Anything is fine.” Fu Yucheng lowered his head and kissed her forehead. “As long as it’s our child, even if he loves playing the flute.”

The chirping of insects outside the window mingled with the rustling of bamboo branches, like a gentle lullaby.

Yun Tangyin snuggled against Fu Yucheng's chest and quickly fell asleep.

In her dream, she was holding a chubby baby, who was holding a small bamboo rattle drum and smiling like a sugar painting at a temple fair.