Storms and Tranquility

The scent of wintersweet, mixed with the aroma of roasted sweet potatoes, seeped through the car window. The red light counted down to 29 seconds, leaving a buffer zone for the final tenderness of the year. Arriving at the office, Wenqing gently caressed Xiaofeng's slightly swollen belly, their interlocked knuckles gleaming softly in the light. As Zhou Yong answered the consultation call, they exchanged sweet glances. The fine lines of Xiaofeng's eyes, drawn by a smile, were filled with anticipation for a new life.

"Is there anything I need to pay attention to in the test results?" Wen Qing keenly noticed the solemnity between Zhou Yong's brows after he hung up the phone, and his tone instantly tightened.

"From the thickness of the uterine scar myometrium, the distance of the gestational sac serosal layer, and the position of the placenta..." Zhou Yong piled up academic terms while carefully choosing his words, trying to make his words more gentle.

"Dad," Xiaofeng interrupted him coquettishly, tapping the table lightly with her fingertips, "We are more concerned about what these actually mean."

"The embryo implanted in the scar, which is very risky. You..."

"Does it have to...be stopped?" Xiaofeng's back straightened instantly, and his voice was filled with a tremor that slipped quietly through his nerve endings.

"If you choose to continue, you will need high-risk management throughout the process. The frequency of prenatal examinations must be increased to twice a week, and you must be admitted to the obstetric intensive care unit after 28 weeks." Zhou Yong's eyes wandered over the two people's faces, full of worry.

"What will happen?" Wen Qing squeezed Xiaofeng's hand, the warmth of his palm conveying strength. "I mean, what dangers will there be for Xiaofeng?"

"The gestational sac may invade the myometrium at the scar site, or even penetrate the uterus. There's a high probability that a hysterectomy will be necessary..." Zhou Yong adjusted his sitting position and said the second half of the sentence with difficulty, "It could even be life-threatening."

"That won't work." Wen Qing made a firm decision without hesitation, "Terminate the pregnancy now."

"I don't agree, Wenqing." Xiaofeng shook her head gently, her voice pleading, "You're already 40 years old. It's just frequent prenatal checkups, I can stick to it."

"I can't let you take this risk." Wen Qing held her hand tightly, his tone firm. "What's wrong with being 40? I'm still willing and able. We can plan again in a few years."

"What if it implants in the scar again next time?" Xiaofeng's voice lowered.

"We already have..." Wen Qing was interrupted by Zhou Yong before she could finish. "That possibility does exist, but even if we terminate the pregnancy now, the surgery would still be risky. The most recent ultrasound scan showed that the scar is healing well." He paused, his tone becoming serious. "I suggest you proceed. If there's delayed embryonic development later, we'll consider surgery. We have the ability to arrange a cesarean section within five minutes. Professor Li from the obstetrics department will be in charge, and the team will be on call 24 hours a day." He glanced at the two people and added, "And... these are two little ones."

Xiaofeng's sudden smile lit up the entire clinic. She grabbed Wenqing's hand and pressed it against her abdomen: "Do you feel it? The two babies are trying hard to grow up." Wenqing finally shed tears, and her hot tears fell on their clasped hands.

Xiaofeng also choked up, her fingertips gently stroking her belly, her voice gentle but firm: "Two babies, worth twice the courage."

On the morning of February 13, 2021, the second day of the first lunar month, Wenqing and Xiaofeng came to Zhou Yong's house with their luggage. The sweet aroma of glutinous rice balls was wafting in the kitchen.

"Dad, Happy New Year!" Wenqing hurriedly handed over the carefully prepared gift and explained with a smile, "We'll be here to bother you for a few months."

"Welcome, welcome!" Zhou Yong quickly stepped aside to make way for the door, a smile forming in the corners of his eyes. "Xiaofeng is my only child. My son is her, and my daughter is also her. Why should there be so many taboos? As long as everything goes smoothly for our family, that's all that matters!"

Xiaofeng supported her waist and slowly moved to the massage chair. Zhou Yong immediately stepped forward to adjust the backrest angle. His movements were so familiar as if he had practiced them thousands of times.

"I'll go buy some daily necessities and then pick up the three children so that the house can be lively." Wen Qing said as he packed his luggage.

"I'm really looking forward to the excitement here." Zhou Yong rubbed his hands, hesitant to speak, and after a while he asked in a low voice, "Um... can we let Zhou Yang come over and watch the fight?"

Xiaofeng opened her eyes slightly in the massage chair and exchanged a tacit glance with Wenqing. Wenqing understood and nodded, "Of course."

"Thank you, thank you...Wenqing." There was a barely perceptible choke in Zhou Yong's voice.

The news of "looking after the child" was like a sudden charge. Zhou Yang stood in front of the dressing mirror in the entrance hall, repeatedly adjusting his shirt collar. He subconsciously tightened his cufflinks, and the pale pink scar on his left wrist was completely hidden under the crisp Oxford fabric, as if it had never existed.

When he arrived at Zhou Yong's house, Wenqing hadn't returned yet. Xiaofeng was napping in the massage chair, her round cheeks radiating a maternal glow, like a plump, blooming flower; her lips were redder than usual, like rose petals covered in dew in the morning. Her even breathing rose and fell gently, and Zhou Yong and Zhou Yang both unconsciously lowered their footsteps. Zhou Yang's tiptoeing to get the blanket still woke her up. "Did I wake you?"

"It's okay." Xiao Feng's voice was lazily like someone who had just woken up, but happiness could not be hidden in her eyes. Her gaze suddenly focused on Zhou Yang's left hand, which he had deliberately covered. "Does the wound still hurt?"

Zhou Yang's knuckles suddenly tightened, and his tone was stiff: "It's okay a long time ago." But when he was about to hand over the apple, his wrist still unconsciously clicked inward, as if he was afraid of being seen.

Xiaofeng suddenly grabbed his wrist as he tried to withdraw it and gently pulled his sleeve up, revealing the scar. "Don't be afraid, Brother Zhou Yang, this isn't your fault," she said softly, yet with strength. "This scar is a badge of survival. If it really bothers you, ask the doctor if it can be covered with a tattoo. But none of this matters. What matters is that you live your life well and learn to love yourself."

"Ding Dong—" The doorbell rang suddenly, and Zhou Yang jumped up from the sofa in surprise. Xiao Feng looked up at him with a smile in her eyes: "Don't be nervous."

Zhou Yong opened the door, and three little cannonballs wrapped in red Tang suits rushed into the living room one after another. "Grandpa!"

"Happy New Year, Grandpa, and good health!" The twins' New Year greetings were as clear as wind chimes, echoing in the house.

"Grandpa... Happy New Year!" Liou's sweet voice instantly melted Zhou Yong's heart. He smiled and approached the three children: "Be good, come and get your red envelopes."

Zhou Yang squatted down and subconsciously looked at the twins' hair. Xiao Feng smiled and reminded him, "Now look at the earrings." He then noticed that the eldest, Lucas, had his ear pierced in the left ear, while the second, Oscar, had his in the right. "Does it hurt to get your ears pierced at such a young age?"

Oscar answered crisply: "Uncle, we are all brave men!"

Zhou Yang turned to Li Ou. The little guy's thick eyelashes cast crescent-shaped shadows under his eyelids. His black grape-like eyes glowed under the chandelier, and his round cheeks still had some milk fat.

"Uncle, are you crying?" Li Ou asked with his head tilted, holding up the milk biscuits in his hand, "Here you go." Zhou Yang's Adam's apple rolled, and he realized that he was unconsciously imitating the angle of the child's head tilt, reflecting each other's tenderness like a mirror.

Wen Qing gently nudged Li Ou from behind: "This is Zhou Yang's father."

"Dad Zhou Yang, I'll give you some food. Don't cry."

On the walnut wood floor, drops of water spread rapidly, forming dark circles.