Chapter 83: I’m Pregnant

There was no media coverage arranged for the wedding day.

Muse Wedding Planning recorded video footage, but it wasn’t widely posted online. Most of the wedding photos and clips of the wedding motorcade were shared by the guests themselves.

Even so, the event made it onto the trending searches once or twice—mainly because figures like Lu Zhan were involved. He brought his own spotlight, even though he lived in Hong Kong most of the time.

Because he had invested in an esports team, and had been present when they won a championship, his looks and background attracted quite a few fans. He had a decent following, plus there was the ongoing daily content shared by the “boss lady” of the smart tech company.

So, the wedding trended twice.

It gave many people a glimpse of the wedding between Fu Xingzhou, president of Qingzhou Group, and Wen Yang of Yunchi Studio. From the Muse planning to Wen Yang’s wedding gown, the rings—even the tiny bouquet—netizens tried to hunt down the same versions. The conclusion: even the ribbons on the little bouquet were pricey.

One netizen commented: “I’m going head-to-head with you rich people now.”

—

The following parts of the text will be scrambled to prevent theft from aggregators and unauthorized epub making. Please support our translators by reading on secondlifetranslations (dot) com. If you are currently on the site and and you are seeing this, please clear your cache.

Ju vbl plnsde yde vbkae eyu, xspv sq vbl alzyvkhlp qasx Lydyd bye alvwadle bsxl. Fsxl wple vbl srrsavwdkvu vs vswa dlyacu nkvklp, obkzl svblap fskdle vswa taswrp vbyv oswze vyjl vblx yzz vbl oyu cynj vs Lydyd.

Ohlausdl bye vblka sod rzydp.

Eld Zydt ynnsxrydkle bla ryaldvp vs plde rlsrzl sqq, yde psxlvkxlp Ww Dkdtgbsw fskdle bla. Tkp sod alzyvkhlp qszzsole y pkxkzya ryvvlad.

Jlqsal vbl oleekdt, vbl sze xyvakyanb bye rakhyvlzu tkhld Eld Zydt y tkqv—y bswpl kd Lydnbldt. Rv oypd’v hlau zyatl, cwv vbl zsnyvksd oyp lmnlzzldv yde kv oyp yzalyeu qwzzu qwadkpble.

Hbw Zwd yde Eld Nk byed’v lmrlnvle pwnb tldlaspkvu qasx vbl sze zyeu. Hbw Zwd, clkdt y pvasdt-okzzle rlapsd obs yzalyeu bye vbkp kd xkde, pkxrzu elnkele vs cwu Eld Zydt y vball-cleassx yryavxldv kd Lydnbldt yp ryav sq bla esoau. Ebld Eld Zydt qswde swv, pbl qlzv y zkvvzl blzrzlpp. Fbl vssj psxl sq bla sod pyhkdtp, rzynle kv kd y cydj nyae, yde plnalvzu pzkrrle kv kdvs bla xsvbla’p rwapl.

Kwpv oykvkdt qsa bla vs qkde swv sdl eyu.

Fbl bye vs oykv wdvkz psxl vkxl bye rypple clqsal vlzzkdt Hbw Zwd—svblaokpl, Hbw Zwd oswze elqkdkvlzu pbshl kv cynj kdvs Eld Zydt’p bydep byzqoyu vbaswtb.

Xhla vbl rypv ulya sa ps, vbl pvweks bye srlayvle yv y zspp qsa vbl qkapv vball sa qswa xsdvbp. Ju vbl qkqvb xsdvb, sdnl rasxsvksdp olal kd rzynl yde yqvla Jasvbla Ubld Ubydt fskdle, vbl pvweks’p elnsayvksd plahknlp cltyd vs rknj wr.

Profit started increasing steadily.

As for the shares in Yiyan, after Fu Xingzhou invested and helped expand operations, the returns were higher than before. Wen Yang herself wasn’t someone extravagant—she spent where necessary, and saved where not—so she had accumulated a decent sum, enough to place on a bank card and quietly give it to Zhu Yun.

As for the betrothal gifts and everything else Fu Xingzhou and Qiu Pei had given, there was so much that Wen Yang couldn’t handle it on her own. Fu Xingzhou brought in a trust fund manager to help plan everything. At the same time, Wen Yang had to be clear in her own mind—what she now owned was also her strongest form of security.

Wen Yang stared at the long list, her eyes going blurry from all the information.

Thankfully, the trust manager was patient and explained everything to her one by one.

Eventually, Wen Yang gradually understood.

She and Fu Xingzhou shared the same trust—it was essentially a spousal trust.

But she also had her own personal accounts. These held assets given solely to her by Fu Xingzhou and Grandma Qiu Pei—accounts that belonged to her alone, and had nothing to do with Fu Xingzhou.

It was only at this moment that Wen Yang realized how much their marriage involved. A few days after the wedding, Qingzhou Group’s stock began steadily rising. After the results of the flower house competition were announced, Yunchi—just as Fu Xingzhou predicted—caught the attention of many investors. But because Wen Yang was Fu Xingzhou’s wife, the investors only sent a few managers to subtly inquire whether they had plans to expand the studio.

All of them were politely turned down by Wen Yang and Yu Qing.

They still preferred to keep things simple. But the increasing number of project orders for the studio was a fact. Brother Chen Chang was preparing to bid on the city’s upcoming flower house project.

The city had its own considerations and wouldn’t hand out projects easily, so Brother Chen would have to put in the effort.

After Zhu Yun bought that apartment for Wen Yang, and before the wedding preparations kicked off, Wen Yang had dragged Zhu Yun and Wen Li to move into it. There weren’t many pre-sale apartments in Nancheng now—most were ready-to-move-in. Both Grandma and Zhu Yun had bought existing properties. So, on the third-day return visit (per tradition), Wen Yang and Fu Xingzhou went to this apartment.

After the return visit,

Zhu Yun and Wen Li didn’t stay long and planned to head back to Nanan—they still had work.

Fu Xingzhou drove Wen Yang and accompanied them back to Nanan. He was at the wheel, Wen Yang in the passenger seat, her parents in the back. The black car sped down the highway.

After a few hours of driving, they arrived around 5 p.m., just as the sun was setting.

The car passed by Nanan No. 1 and No. 2 High Schools—Wen Yang’s former schools. Fu Xingzhou glanced over, and Wen Yang propped her cheek on her hand, smiling as she looked at him. “That’s it. I took a photo back in high school right on that pedestrian bridge across the street.”

Fu Xingzhou lowered his gaze to look at her and smiled. “Let’s take a walk there tonight.”

Wen Yang replied, “Sure.”

Zhu Yun and Wen Li had dozed off but were now awake. They heard the couple chatting and exchanged smiles in the back seat. The car soon pulled into the apartment complex in Nanan.

Fu Xingzhou had driven the whole way.

After getting out, they went upstairs and returned home.

Wen Yang held onto his arm and asked, “Are you tired?”

Fu Xingzhou held her hand. “I’m fine.”

Wen Yang looked up at him. “You’ve been driving for so long.”

Fu Xingzhou looked down at her. “But we made it safely.”

Wen Yang hummed in agreement.

Once inside, Zhu Yun went to cut up some fruit and brought it out. Wen Yang then took Fu Xingzhou to see her room. Her room had a large window facing out toward the street. Outside the complex, there was a sidewalk lined with towering banyan trees—lush and full. Some branches even reached the windows of nearby residents. Wen Yang’s window was almost like that.

The room had white walls and a soft, gentle aesthetic. It had been updated over time, but her desk still had green plants and scattered books—not neatly stacked, but just as she’d left them. You could still see traces of her student days. There were also certificates on the bookshelf, with her earlier ones framed. Fu Xingzhou stood there looking at them.

He saw two framed photos—one from her high school years and one from college.

In the high school photo, Wen Yang had shoulder-length hair, standing close to Yu Qing, smiling brightly at the camera, stars twinkling in her eyes.

In the college photo, her hair had grown to her waist, slightly wavy. She wore a knee-length dress and smiled softly. Behind her was the athletic field of her university. Wen Yang leaned in and saw he was looking at her pictures. Fu Xingzhou pulled her gently into his arms. She rested her head against his chest and tilted her face to him, asking, “Did I look a bit silly back then?”

Fu Xingzhou looked down, meeting her gaze, and shook his head. “Not silly. Just how I imagined.”

In high school, she was more youthful and innocent.

In college, her charm had begun to take shape. Though different from now, you could see hints of what she’d become.

Wen Yang smiled and hooked her arms around his neck. “How about we find time to visit Hong Kong? See your past, too?”

Fu Xingzhou looked at her and nodded. “Okay.”

Before the wedding, they had gone to Hong Kong to see relatives and take some photos. But for fun, they stayed close to the city center—they hadn’t gone to his old family home, the place that held the most of his past.

Ever since his father and maternal grandparents passed, that villa had remained empty, with only a housekeeper maintaining it.

“There are actually more photos,” Wen Yang said, pulling away from his embrace. She opened a cabinet and took out a photo album. The room had been carefully cleaned—any trace of Cheng Yanyu had been completely removed. Even in group photos, Zhu Yun had cut Cheng Yanyu out. She’d taken the trimmed parts and made a separate mini-album, which she kept herself.

So the album Wen Yang now had only showed her with friends—mostly Yu Qing.

Fu Xingzhou sat by the bed, and Wen Yang leaned against his shoulder, flipping through the album with him.

“Guess what I was doing in this photo?”

Fu Xingzhou looked at her, puffing her cheeks and opening the door angrily. His eyes carried a hint of amusement. “Arguing with mother-in-law?”

“Correct. She wouldn’t let me go to the internet café and refused to give me money. I lost my temper and got mad at her. I was fourteen at the time—right in my rebellious phase.”

Fu Xingzhou raised an eyebrow.

“And did you end up getting the money?”

“My dad gave it to me.”

Fu Xingzhou chuckled.

“Mm, always had someone to back me up.”

Wen Yang’s ears turned red. She said softly, “Actually, it didn’t happen often. My mom was just in a weird mood that time and took a picture of me angry. That made me even angrier.”

Fu Xingzhou’s lips curled slightly.

They flipped through more photos.

One showed her in a school uniform, squatting and talking to Yu Qing. Her homework was beside her. She was sitting by a flower bed doing her assignments, looking up at something. A letter was placed on top of her homework. Fu Xingzhou looked at it and asked, “What’s that?”

Wen Yang leaned over to take a closer look, paused, and said, “Looks like… a love letter.”

Fu Xingzhou raised an eyebrow.

Wen Yang turned to look at him. “Did you ever get any?”

Fu Xingzhou looked into her eyes and smiled without answering.

Wen Yang blinked, stared at him for a few seconds, and Fu Xingzhou kissed her lips gently. “That kind of thing doesn’t matter.”

Wen Yang only got more curious about his past.

She had seen photos of him when he was younger—he had always looked good. She went back to flipping through the album. Many were from her college days.

Photos of her working part-time: placing yogurt on shelves in a convenience store, eating spicy noodles by the window on a rainy day—Yu Qing had taken that one. They printed it out later.

Many of her selfies were saved on her social media.

The photos in this album were mostly taken by Yu Qing or her parents.

Fu Xingzhou looked at the college-era Wen Yang. There were no photos of Cheng Yanyu, but he knew that behind these photos, Cheng Yanyu had been part of her life. He flipped through the album one by one.

He saw her whole university life.

The edited photos stopped at her graduation—she was wearing her cap and gown, holding a bouquet of flowers, smiling softly into the camera.

Then came a two-year gap.

No photos at all.

Then the next album was of her photography work. The couple had already seen many of her digital works online, but holding printed ones felt different.

Among them—

There were some photos with similar styles to those they had taken together: cafés at street corners, tall buildings reflecting the sun, the Tyndall effect in the sky.

Maybe they were from different cities, places, even countries—but the photography style was unmistakably similar.

Before turning twenty, Fu Xingzhou had visited many countries and cities in China. He had left behind a large collection of photos.

After they finished looking through the albums—

It was time for dinner. That night, Wen Li cooked on a rare occasion.

He only knew a few signature dishes, so he made those.

After dinner—

Wen Yang and Fu Xingzhou went for a walk. They headed straight to the Nan’an Alley near Nanan No.1 and No.2 High Schools. As they strolled, Wen Yang shared many stories about her high school days.

When they reached a convenience store she used to frequent—still open after more than a decade—Wen Yang wanted a candied hawthorn stick. Fu Xingzhou went in to buy it for her. Wen Yang bit into it—crisp and sweet.

She held it up to Fu Xingzhou, and he took a bite of a hawthorn.

Wen Yang smiled and asked, “Is it sweet?”

Fu Xingzhou looked at her. “Very.”

They later visited the internet café she used to sneak off to—it was still there, though the sign was a bit worn. Then the footbridge, and at night, the two high schools. Fu Xingzhou looked up at them.

He could easily imagine her standing here, camera in hand, taking photos.

A teenager in a school uniform, eating candied hawthorn.

They stayed in Nan’an for three or four days. They also visited her old house. Zhu Yun handed out wedding candies. Fu Xingzhou drove them. After getting out of the car, he held Wen Yang’s hand. The gossiping aunties at the street corner saw this and gathered around.

“In big cities, there are just more opportunities. Look at Wen Yang—only divorced a year and already found someone this good.”

“Did you hear? The old Zhu family—people say the wedding was so extravagant we can’t even imagine it.”

“Really? Sounds too good to be true.”

“How could it be fake? It was even in the papers!”

“In the paper? What year is this? It was online.”

“Oh, oh, my grandson said that. I don’t know.”

“Here they come, here they come.”

“These wedding candies look different. Are they good?”

“Delicious.”

Wen Yang didn’t go near that group of aunties. She and Fu Xingzhou met who they needed to meet and took care of what they came for. The wedding candies were mainly for elderly relatives who couldn’t attend the wedding. Once they were done, the four of them left the old house. The black car drove off.

On the fifth day—

Wen Yang and Fu Xingzhou left Nan’an. Her parents had to return to work. Fu Xingzhou also had matters to handle in Hong Kong. Wen Yang took her laptop and went along, planning to stay in Hong Kong for a while.

That day, after work, Fu Xingzhou came to pick her up and took her to his old home. The villa was in a residential area in Hong Kong. After the black car parked, Wen Yang got out and walked in with him.

The housekeeper, a woman from mainland China, was watching TV. When she saw Fu Xingzhou return, she quickly got up. “Mr. Fu, you’re back?”

Fu Xingzhou nodded. “Good afternoon, Auntie.”

“Good afternoon, Ma’am. Would you like something to eat? I’ll make it right away.”

Wen Yang smiled. “Don’t trouble yourself, Auntie. I just had some dessert.”

Fu Xingzhou held Wen Yang’s hand and led her upstairs. The housekeeper quickly went to the kitchen and prepared two cups of coffee and some snacks, then brought them upstairs. The house had a more Western style. Wen Yang had been to Fu Xingzhou’s old home in Nancheng before—it was simply decorated, as he had lived there more as an adult. But this villa held his entire childhood and adolescence.

The style of the room was completely different.

There were many cameras, all lined up on shelves, along with models and Rubik’s cubes. The carpet was gray, and his bed was a deep gray too. There was a two-person sofa, and on the table sat a picture frame.

Wen Yang glanced over—the school uniform for Hong Kong boys was a white shirt and trousers. He was wearing a white shirt, adjusting a camera at his desk, head lowered. Behind him was a blackboard full of English.

Wen Yang picked up the photo, looked at him.

It gave a similar feeling to the ones she’d seen before. If he had been in Nan’an, he would definitely have been the type that girls liked. Wen Yang asked softly, “You brought your camera to school? The teachers were okay with that?”

Fu Xingzhou said, “The school wasn’t very strict about that.”

Wen Yang gave a soft “Oh.”

There was a computer here. All of Fu Xingzhou’s photos were stored inside. He had organized them in folders—more than the ones on his cloud drive. Wen Yang sat on a chair, and Fu Xingzhou used the mouse to open them for her.

There were a lot of photos.

Mostly landscapes. Graduation photos, pictures with his father, and one with Lu Zhan. The two of them were on Nathan Road—he was looking down, biting a popsicle, while Lu Zhan had his arm slung over his shoulder. A candid shot.

Wen Yang let out a soft “Wow” and leaned in to look. “This one’s great. Who took it?”

She turned to look at him.

Fu Xingzhou was sitting beside her, one arm resting on her chair’s backrest, one hand on the mouse. “A classmate took it,” he said.

Wen Yang gave another soft “Oh.”

She blinked. “Guy or girl?”

Fu Xingzhou looked into her eyes, smiling. “Guy.”

Wen Yang “Oh”-ed again.

Fu Xingzhou glanced at her, the corners of his lips lifting.

Then came more photos. He and Lu Zhan had traveled together, photographed the aurora borealis, gone to Egypt and other places. There were many photos, though very few portraits—just a handful, and those were striking.

Wen Yang thought he must’ve been very popular with girls when he was younger.

She still asked, “Were there a lot of girls who liked you?”

Fu Xingzhou met her gaze. “I’d say… yes. But I wasn’t really interested.”

Wen Yang blinked.

“Oh, ‘I’d say yes’—so it was a lot, right?”

Seeing how playful she was, Fu Xingzhou pinched her chin. “So what? Are you jealous?”

Wen Yang thought for a moment.

“A little.”

Fu Xingzhou smiled again. “Mm.”

Then came a number of photos of Fu Li’an and Qiu Pei together. He did take portraits—mostly of his parents. Fu Li’an looked just like when Wen Yang first met him:

Refined and handsome.

But Qiu Pei, in her youth, had a wild beauty. Her big waves of hair lazily rested against Fu Li’an.

Wen Yang leaned in for a closer look.

But there were fewer photos after he turned twenty. He probably stopped taking many after that. If there were any, they were just media or magazine shots. Wen Yang searched a bit and found a picture of him at twenty, wearing a suit, signing documents.

By then, he had already hidden all signs of youth—put on a mask.

That night,

Back at the Victoria apartment, Wen Yang was especially passionate. Maybe it was because learning so much about him touched something deep in her.

Fu Xingzhou pressed Wen Yang’s waist, kissing her lips, looking into her eyes. He could feel her passion. Wen Yang’s breath was unsteady as they pressed their foreheads together, gazes tangled.

Eventually,

Wen Yang buried her face in his neck, her mind blank.

Fu Xingzhou kissed her cheek, then slowly moved downward, leaving her with the final warmth.

“Fu Xingzhou.”

She called softly.

Fu Xingzhou: “Hm?”

He waited a few seconds, but she didn’t respond. He gave her a gentle nip. Wen Yang tensed, drew closer to him, and whispered, “Honey, you were really handsome when you were young.”

Fu Xingzhou raised his brows and gave another teasing bite.

Wen Yang trembled slightly. “Still handsome now.”

Fu Xingzhou: “Mm, that’s more like it.”

His kisses left her weak, and Wen Yang sought out his lips, softly begging for mercy.

—

After spending a week in Hong Kong, Wen Yang and Fu Xingzhou returned to Nancheng. She resumed work. Fu Xingzhou was busy too, but he still booked a honeymoon trip for the end of the year.

The flower house project—

Brother Chen Chang didn’t win the bid. It went to another company. Wen Yang and Yu Qing were the lead designers, so both had to follow through on the project. Meanwhile, Wen Yang had a lot on her plate.

This year’s birthday,

Fu Xingzhou threw her a big birthday party. It was joyful and fulfilling.

In the months that followed—

From summer to autumn,

From autumn to winter,

The balcony of the Washington apartment gradually filled with greenery arranged by Wen Yang. The plants swayed in the wind, releasing floral scents. Fresh flowers on the kitchen island were changed frequently. That day, after finishing a meeting, Jiang Yue left with documents. Fu Xingzhou was browsing his tablet in the living room. Wen Yang came in from the balcony and wrapped her arms around his neck from behind, whispering, “Honey.”

Fu Xingzhou replied warmly,

“Mm?”

Wen Yang wore a soft long dress and said gently, “I’m pregnant.”

The hand Fu Xingzhou used to hold the tablet paused. A second later, he turned to look at her. Wen Yang’s eyes curved into a smile as she handed him a gift box. Fu Xingzhou opened it.

A pregnancy test.

Two lines.

Fu Xingzhou looked up at her. His heartbeat quickened—an unusual feeling. He stood up, wrapped an arm around her waist, and kissed her forehead.

“You’ve worked hard, my love.”

---

Sansukini: 2 more chapters to end the main story.

Thanks for visiting. If you like this story, then I’m shamelessly asking you to visit NovelUpdates and give a 5⭐ review. (人❛ᴗ❛)♪тнайк　чоц♪(❛ᴗ❛*人)

You can also check out my other translations Here