"I have no idea when these two little troublemakers will finally show up. It’s driving me crazy…"

People often say childbirth is like walking through the gates of hell.

Others claim labor pain shatters human limits—equal to breaking twenty bones at once.

Some even describe it poetically: like ocean waves rolling toward shore. Gentle at first, then swelling, crashing violently against the coast before the tide slowly retreats.

But no matter how beautifully it’s phrased, the agony remains.

"Can you hear me? Hurry up and come out already! Your dad’s getting jealous!"

Yet Fang Yiyi’s pregnancy had been smooth sailing. No morning sickness, no sleepless nights. Her health metrics stayed perfect—eating well, sleeping soundly. Even her mother, who’d accompanied her through it all, found the ease almost unreal.

Now, stroking her round belly, warmth glowed in her smile.

Mom once told me giving birth to me felt like dying and being reborn. Hallucinations flickered before her eyes as she entered the delivery room. On the operating table, she’d felt her bones being pried apart. At the worst moment, her belly seemed ready to burst.

That bone-deep agony was the ultimate pain—like being kicked repeatedly from within.

Labor cramps felt like having your spine snapped… only to have it happen again minutes later.

Of course, I never let Fang Yiyi hear these details. I’d only mentioned them casually to Mom. My one mistake? Not noticing Xiaoxi eavesdropping outside the door.

That girl had always sworn off marriage. After overhearing this, her face turned ghostly pale. She clung even tighter to her vow: no husband, no boyfriend. She’d just "live off" Fang Yiyi and me forever.

It was ironic. Fang Yiyi and I were about to have kids, yet Xiaoxi still lived with us. She claimed I’d promised in college: if she never married, I’d support her for life as her personal "freeloader."

Most husbands would hate this—a sister-in-law underfoot constantly. But Fang Yiyi adored it. Her bond with Xiaoxi ran deeper than mine.

When work kept me late, Xiaoxi even claimed my bed.

Sometimes I felt like the least important person in my own home.

"Do you know how much good karma I must’ve stored up? Having you as my wife is blessing enough. And twins—a boy and a girl! Though I wonder who’ll pop out first…"

My hand slipped under the covers, roaming Fang Yiyi’s belly. I could feel their fierce little lives stirring—irregular bumps pushing against her skin, as if they might burst free any second.

Hospital rules forbade revealing fetal sex. But at Rong Sheng Hospital? Those rules meant nothing.

Honestly, I’d been overjoyed just knowing she was pregnant. Learning it was twins nearly drove me mad with happiness.

I’d been buzzing with excitement for half a year. Yesterday was her due date… and still no sign.

Last night, our whole family camped out here—a sea of worried faces. By dawn, exhaustion won. They’d checked into rooms downstairs, regrouping for round two…

"Obviously the brother will come first!"

"How can you be so sure? Did they tell you?"

I tweaked Fang Yiyi’s nose playfully. Her smile eased my nerves.

This past month, I’d seen too many mothers panic. One young woman—barely twenty—completely broke down near her due date. She’d knelt, begging doctors to abort the baby. Her family refused, of course.

I never saw her again after that. Maybe she delivered. Maybe not. None of my business.

But Fang Yiyi? Her calm was remarkable. She’d prepared for motherhood without a flicker of fear.

During her hospital rest days, she’d even dragged me into knitting scarves for the unborn twins.

Honestly? Pointless. They wouldn’t wear scarves for another year. But I humored her.

Until the needlework torture became unbearable. I dumped the chore on Xiaoxi—and earned their icy glares for days.

"Nonsense! They don’t know birth order anyway. I declare the first one’s the brother! He’ll spoil his sister just like you spoil Xiaoxi…"

"Ha! Since when do siblings get ranked by parental preference?"

I was baffled. Thank goodness Xiaoxi and I weren’t twins. Hearing this, I’d have questioned my entire childhood.

"Of course *my* son obeys *my* rules. Every girl deserves an older brother…"

"Sorry, my sweet boy. You’re shouldering burdens no infant should bear. Just pray your sister isn’t as ‘bossy’ as Aunt Xiaoxi. With two daughter-loving parents? Your life won’t be easy~"

I kept stroking Fang Yiyi’s belly. Some past wounds were better left unspoken. Xiaoxi, me, Fang Yiyi, Fang Xuan—we were living proof of that.

Morning light gilded Fang Yiyi’s porcelain skin, soft as pearl. Dark circles shadowed her long lashes. She’d barely slept these past weeks. Her chin had sharpened, making her face look even smaller.

A familiar heat stirred in me. I edged closer, sliding my hand under her shirt to trace her waist. Her skin felt like liquid silk. My palm drifted upward…

No words needed. One "you know what I mean" look, and her cheeks flushed crimson.

"You’re impossible! Then I won’t help you during my confinement month. Solve it yourself!"

"No! Please! I’m sorry! Just let me rub your belly… Maybe they’ll hear my thoughts and come out nicely~"

I playfully swatted her hand away.

We’d been married years, yet Fang Yiyi still blushed at risqué jokes. In bed, I always took the lead while she stayed shyly passive.

But during her pregnancy? She held all the power. Without her "help," I’d have gone mad with frustration months ago.

*Knock knock knock!*

"Yiyi-jie! I’m here!"

Our eyes snapped wide. We exchanged a panicked glance. I yanked my hand off her belly and tugged her shirt back down.

If Xiaoxi caught us like this during breakfast? Awkward didn’t cover it. Couldn’t exactly blame the twins for being "hungry."

"Why dress so fancy? Trying to attract wolves?"

The girl wore a wide, pale pink sunhat. Her light blue midi dress flowed perfectly—not tight, yet hinting at a figure both delicate and breathtaking.

Ink-black hair cascaded unbound to her waist. But her true magic was an indescribable aura of pure, fresh beauty…

She bounced in like a sprite dancing on clouds.

The moment she passed me, her silhouette seemed to swallow all light in the room. Impossible to look away. Impossible to remember anything else.

Honestly? If I hadn’t watched Xiaoxi grow up, I’d never believe this radiant woman was that scrawny kid.

They say girls transform eighteen times over?

With Xiaoxi? Eighty transformations wouldn’t cover it!

Our twins would be blessed to have such a stunning aunt.

"No wolves here! These little ones might pop out any minute. Gotta look my best for their first impression."

"Don’t worry—they won’t remember you anyway."

My kids’ first words would be "Mama" or "Dada."

If they dared say "Auntie"? I’d "disown" Xiaoxi on the spot.

(#`n´)

"Did you… wear perfume?"

As I stood to let her pass, a sharp floral scent hit me. I sniffed near her shoulder, frowning.

My earlier joke about disowning her? Fake. But if she *had* worn perfume near Fang Yiyi? That threat would turn real.

"No way! It’s just laundry detergent. Probably used too much… How could I wear perfume around Yiyi-jie like this?"

"Still, skip this detergent next time. Better change your clothes later…"

Xiaoxi never lied. Her wide-eyed innocence was genuine. But that smell? It made *me* want to sneeze. For Fang Yiyi—so fragile now—even a sneeze might jolt her belly dangerously.

"Got it. I’ll feed Yiyi-jie today. I’ll stay back."

"Deal."

I took the porridge bowl from her. Having Xiaoxi around made everything easier.

Before, asking her for favors felt like scaling a mountain. But since Fang Yiyi’s pregnancy? She’d transformed.

She researched everything on her phone before I even thought of it. Stocked supplies. Became our rain-or-shine meal courier.

"I don’t want porridge. Just red sugar water."

"Eat a little. Dad hired only female doctors in their thirties and forties. The nurses? All mothers themselves. Even if… you know… no shame in it."

As I lifted the spoon to Fang Yiyi’s lips, she stubbornly turned her head away.

If Fang Yiyi truly had no appetite, I wouldn’t force her. But childbirth is physically demanding—you’ll collapse on the delivery table without proper fuel.

Her refusal to eat stemmed from that doctor’s warning about possibly losing control during labor. Medically routine, yes, but utterly unacceptable to Yiyi.

I’d lost count of how many days she’d survived on congee, terrified of embarrassment mid-delivery. But this was my limit. I couldn’t let her starve before me.

"But I ate yesterday!"

"Yesterday was yesterday. Don’t make me call Mom over."

Yiyi wasn’t a child anymore—she was about to be a mother. How could she say such things?

"If you faint from exhaustion on that table, it’s no joke. You’ll risk brain damage for both babies."

"Just... a tiny bit~~"

"Fine. Ten spoonfuls. That’s the deal."

"Okay!"

Once she agreed, I slid the spoon along the bowl’s edge, heaping it full. I’d clear the entire bowl in ten scoops, whether she liked it or not. She’d promised—and dragging Mom here would only force-feed her worse.

"Oh! Ge, you need baby names too! There’s a fortune-teller outside naming babies."

"Your brother already picked them~~"

Before I could answer Xiaoxi, Yiyi ‘helpfully’ cut in. Xiaoxi’s face went pale with shock.

"When?!"

"When I first got pregnant! He’s been hiding it from you all. Made me swear secrecy..."

Yiyi loved stirring trouble. We’d agreed to reveal the names after birth—but her petty revenge for the spoon-feeding made her blab. If she weren’t pregnant, my eagle claw grip would’ve had her begging.

"Ge! You’re playing with fire! Spill the names or I’ll shout them from the rooftops!"

Xiaoxi forgot she was a sister—and soon-to-be aunt—yanking my nose like a brat. Behind her, Yiyi lounged smugly in bed, conveniently forgetting who always surrendered to my tickle-torture.

"Husband, just tell Xiaoxi. Hiding it’s pointless. What if she tells Dad and Mom?"

I shot Yiyi a glare. She’d caused this mess and acted innocent.

"Yeah! Tell me! I’ll keep it secret! Pleeease~~ Pleeease~~"

Cornered by their double assault, I surrendered.

"Fine! I give up... Ye Chen and Ye Cheng."