By the middle of the second month of her translation work, Chen Shuang began to notice some subtle changes in her body.
At first, it was just occasional fatigue and sleepiness. She thought she was overworking and didn’t pay much attention. Then came mild nausea in the mornings, and sudden queasiness when she smelled cooking oil from the kitchen. Until that afternoon, while she was bent over translating a passage about the workings of a seeder, a sudden dizziness forced her to put down her pen and lean back in her chair with her eyes closed.
Madam Zhou came in carrying freshly cut fruit. Seeing Chen Shuang’s pale face, she gasped. “Xiao Shuang, what’s wrong? You look so unwell!”
Chen Shuang opened her eyes and forced a smile. “Maybe I’m just a little tired… I’ve been feeling like I never get enough sleep lately.”
Madam Zhou stepped closer to examine her carefully, then suddenly remembered something. “When… when was your last period?”
Chen Shuang froze, trying to recall. The week before He Yanzhi went on his mission… After that, it hadn’t come. She had been completely absorbed in her translation work and hadn’t noticed how much time had passed.
“More than a month, I guess…” she murmured, subconsciously placing her hand on her lower abdomen.
Madam Zhou’s eyes lit up, though with a hint of uncertainty. “Could it be… Xiao Shuang, besides being sleepy and nauseous, do you feel anything else?”
“I just don’t have much appetite. The smell of greasy food makes me want to vomit,” Chen Shuang said, her heartbeat unexpectedly quickening.
Madam Zhou excitedly took her hand. “This… this might be morning sickness! Xiao Shuang!”
Chen Shuang sat frozen in her chair, her palms slightly sweaty. Pregnant? Could it really be? In this unfamiliar time and place… her child with He Yanzhi?
“But we still need the doctor to confirm,” Madam Zhou suggested. “Tomorrow I’ll accompany you to the county hospital for a check-up. Since Yanzhi isn’t home, we have to be extra careful.”
The next morning, Madam Zhou accompanied Chen Shuang to the military hospital. The female OB-GYN was very kind. After asking detailed questions and conducting an examination, she gave a definite answer.
“Comrade Chen Shuang, congratulations. You are indeed pregnant. By calculation, it should be about six weeks along,” the doctor said, smiling as she wrote in the medical record. “The baby is very healthy. You should rest well, improve your nutrition, and be especially cautious during the first three months.”
Holding the medical record marked “early pregnancy,” Chen Shuang walked out of the hospital with light, floating steps. Sunlight warmed her face as she looked down at her still-flat belly. A feeling she couldn’t put into words welled up in her chest—excitement, nervousness, and a gentle warmth that came from the thought of becoming a mother.
“Madam Zhou… I’m really pregnant…” she whispered.
Madam Zhou’s eyes glistened with tears as she nodded repeatedly. “Good, good, this is wonderful news! When Yanzhi comes back and finds out, he’ll be overjoyed!”
Back at the military family compound, the news quickly spread. Sister Wang was the first to come congratulate her, followed by the other army wives. Even Zhang Caifeng shyly brought a few eggs: “These are free-range eggs from my home. They’ll help nourish you.”
Chen Shuang thanked each of them, feeling warmth in her heart. This little life hadn’t even arrived yet, and already it was receiving so much care.
That evening, Chen Shuang sat at her desk, opening stationery to write a letter to He Yanzhi. The pen hovered over the paper for a long time; she didn’t know how to tell him this news. In the end, she decided to keep it a secret for now—she wanted to wait for Yanzhi to return and tell him in person, to see the surprise on his face with her own eyes.
“Yanzhi, I hope this letter finds you well. Everything here is fine; the translation work is progressing smoothly, and more than half is done. Madam Zhou has been taking good care of me, and Sister Wang and the others often drop by. Don’t worry. I’ve just been missing you lately and hope for your safe return soon.”
She paused, gently placing her hand on her lower abdomen, a tender smile spreading across her lips, and added:
“There’s also something important I want to tell you in person. We’ll talk about it when you return. Take care of yourself, and may everything go smoothly.”
She slipped the letter into an envelope, stamped it, and decided to mail it first thing the next morning.
The news of her pregnancy slowed the pace of Chen Shuang’s life. Madam Zhou took over almost all household chores, firmly refusing to let her enter the kitchen or smell cooking fumes. Sister Wang came by frequently to share advice about what she could or couldn’t eat and what to be cautious about, explaining everything thoroughly.
The translation work continued, but Chen Shuang followed the doctor’s advice, shortening her daily work to four hours—two in the morning, two in the afternoon. When she felt tired, she rested, no longer rushing to finish tasks as before.
When Editor Liu learned of her pregnancy, he sent word through someone to tell her not to worry, that she could extend deadlines, and even sent some nutritional supplements. Chen Shuang was deeply moved by this kindness.
Days passed in anticipation. Chen Shuang began to notice more obvious bodily changes—breast tenderness, a slightly rounder waist, and heightened sensitivity to smells. She bought soft cotton fabrics, planning to make small clothes for the baby with He Yanzhi when he returned.
Late at night, she often touched her belly, speaking softly to the little life inside. “Baby, Daddy will be home soon. He’s a good man. He doesn’t talk much, but he’s very reliable. You’ll like him.”
Outside the window, the grapes had fully ripened, glowing purple on the trellis. The sea breeze brought the chill of autumn, but the small courtyard was filled with warmth and expectation.
That afternoon, after finishing her translation for the day, Chen Shuang leaned back on the lounge chair to rest. The sound of someone at the gate interrupted her: “Comrade Chen Shuang! Telegram!”
A telegram? Her heart skipped a beat as she hurried outside.
The telegram was from He Yanzhi’s training base, only a short line: “Mission ended early, returning in five days. Yanzhi.”
He was coming back! Chen Shuang held the telegram, her eyes watering. She looked down at her slightly rounded belly and whispered, “Baby, Daddy’s coming home.”
Five days felt especially long in anticipation. Chen Shuang thoroughly cleaned the house, took out the new sweater she had prepared for He Yanzhi to air out, and went to the county town to buy some snacks he liked.
On the fifth morning, Chen Shuang woke early. She put on a loose, light blue shirt—one of the few that still fit. Madam Zhou prepared a hearty breakfast, but neither of them had much appetite, occasionally glancing toward the gate.
Around ten in the morning, familiar footsteps finally sounded outside. Chen Shuang stood up, her heart racing.
The gate opened, and He Yanzhi, dusty and travel-worn, stood there. He looked a little thinner and darker than when he left, but his eyes were still sharp and bright. Seeing Chen Shuang, the corners of his mouth lifted as he strode forward.
“I’m back,” he said, his voice slightly hoarse but smiling.
Chen Shuang hurried forward but stopped a few steps away. She looked at him, words catching in her throat, and finally whispered, “Welcome home.”
He Yanzhi noticed her unusual behavior immediately. His gaze lingered on her for a moment, eyebrows furrowing. “You’ve lost weight. Have you been overworking?”
Chen Shuang shook her head, stepped closer, and placed his hand gently on her belly.
He Yanzhi froze. His palm felt the slight curve of her abdomen. He looked at Chen Shuang, then down at his hand, eyes widening slowly, voice trembling: “This is…?”
Chen Shuang nodded, tears finally streaming down. “Yanzhi… you’re going to be a father.”
Time seemed to stop at that moment. He Yanzhi stood frozen, his face shifting from shock and confusion to uncontrollable joy. He wrapped Chen Shuang in his arms, holding her tightly but carefully avoiding her belly.
“How long? What did the doctor say? How’s your health? Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” he asked rapidly, a jumble of questions.
Chen Shuang laughed through her tears in his embrace. “More than two months. The doctor says everything is healthy. I wanted to wait for you to come back and tell you in person.”
He Yanzhi let go of her, cupped her face, examined her carefully, then leaned in, forehead to forehead. “Wife… thank you.”
Sunlight filled the courtyard. Under the grape trellis, the shadows of the two embracing stretched long. Between them, a new life quietly grew, binding their home even closer.
Madam Zhou stood at the kitchen door, watching the scene, quietly wiping her eyes before turning to prepare an extra meal. Today, there was much to celebrate.