Chapter 81: The Fox Who Heard Everything

The first rays of dawn crept through the canopy, painting the clearing in soft gold. The fire had died to embers. The cubs were still asleep in their pile, Hóng Yè’s tail thrown protectively over both younger brothers.

And Bai Yue was trying to sneak back into camp like a criminal.

Slowly, she thought, tiptoeing past the log where Yàn Shū slept curled around his herb pouch. Slowly and quietly. Just slip into your hut and—

“Good morning, little mate.”

Bai Yue shrieked.

Zhāo Yàn was right there. Leaning against a tree, his arms crossed, his nine tails fanned out behind him. His crimson eyes were narrowed to slits.

“You’re up early,” Bai Yue squeaked, clutching her chest. “Very early! Very… healthy! Morning person!”

“Am I?” Zhāo Yàn’s voice was silk wrapped around a blade. He pushed off the tree and stalked toward her. “Because I’ve been awake for hours, Bai Yue. Hours. Watching the river. Waiting.”

“Oh? That’s… dedicated?”

“Yes.” He stopped inches from her, close enough that she could feel the heat radiating off him. His nostrils flared. Once. Twice.

His entire body went rigid.

“I see,” Zhāo Yàn said flatly. His ears flattened against his head. His tails drooped. “I see, I see, I see.”

“See what?” Bai Yue tried for innocent. Failed.

“You smell like him.” The words came out strangled. “You smell like him. Everywhere. Inside and out. You reek of Snow Leopard, Bai Yue. It’s in your hair. On your skin. In your mouth.”

Bai Yue’s face went supernova. “I—we—that’s—it was the river! We were both bathing!”

“Bathing.” Zhāo Yàn’s eye twitched. “Bathing. For hours. While I was here, guarding the camp, keeping your cubs safe, not mating with you in a river—”

“Zhāo Yàn, keep your voice down!”

“WHY? So Han Shān can sleep peacefully after stealing my turn?!” His voice cracked on the last word, rising to a pitch that sent birds fleeing from the trees.

From behind them, a deep, rumbling chuckle echoed.

Han Shān emerged from the treeline, looking entirely too pleased with himself. His hair was still damp, plastered to his sculpted chest.

“Fox,” Han Shān greeted, the single word dripping with smug satisfaction.

“LEOPARD.” Zhāo Yàn’s tails puffed to triple size. “You cheated.”

“I protected our mate from danger while she bathed.”

“You mated with her in a river!”

“The water was very warm.” Han Shān’s lips twitched. “Soft, even. Would recommend.”

Zhāo Yàn lunged.

Bai Yue grabbed his tails, all nine of them, and yanked backward with every ounce of strength. The Fox Lord stumbled, sputtering, as she wrapped her arms around his waist and held on for dear life.

“Stop it!” she hissed. “You’ll wake the cubs!”

“Papa is making weird noises again!”

Everyone froze.

Yòu Lín was sitting up in the cub pile, rubbing his eyes with tiny fists. Beside him, Ruì Xuě blinked owlishly, his white fur sticking up in seventeen directions.

“Is Papa fighting?” Ruì Xuě asked sleepily. He spotted Han Shān and immediately lit up. “Papa! You’re wet! Did you go swimming?”

“Something like that,” Han Shān murmured, his murderous expression melting into something soft as he looked at his son.

“Why does Mama smell like Uncle Han Shan?” Yòu Lín tilted his head, fox ears twitching. “She didn’t smell like that yesterday. She smelled like lemons and panic. Now she smells weird.”

Bai Yue wanted the earth to open and swallow her whole.

“That’s—it’s nothing—we were just—”

“They mated,” Hóng Yè announced flatly.

The teenager had somehow produced a cup of tea from nowhere and was sipping it with the exhausted resignation of someone who had seen too much in his short life. His amber eyes were fixed on a point in the middle distance, refusing to look at anyone.

“Mated?” Yòu Lín repeated. “What’s mating?”

“It’s when adults—” Hóng Yè started.

“NOTHING!” Bai Yue shrieked. “It’s nothing! It’s adult stuff! Grown-up things! Very boring! You wouldn’t like it!”

Ruì Xuě was still staring at his father with those big purple eyes. Then his gaze dropped to Han Shān’s hand, which had somehow found its way to Bai Yue’s lower back.

His little face scrunched in thought.

Then, slowly, his eyes widened.

“Papa,” Ruì Xuě whispered. “Does this mean… does this mean I’m getting a baby brother?”

The clearing went dead silent.

Han Shān’s hand froze on Bai Yue’s back. Zhāo Yàn stopped trying to murder him. Even Hóng Yè lowered his tea.

Ruì Xuě’s little tail started wagging. “Because Xiao Hei said when parents do the special hugging, sometimes a baby comes! And Papa has been doing special hugging with Mama! And Papa is smiling! Papa never smiles unless it’s baby stuff!”

“Ruì Xuě,” Han Shān started, his deep voice uncharacteristically flustered.

“IS THERE A BABY IN MAMA’S TUMMY?!” Yòu Lín shrieked, launching himself across the camp and slamming into Bai Yue’s legs. He pressed his ear flat against her belly button, listening with intense concentration. “I don’t hear anything! Is it sleeping? Is it a fox or a leopard? Can it be both? Can it have nine tails AND snow fur?!”

“There’s no baby yet!” Bai Yue yelped, her face the color of a ripe tomato. “I mean—there might be—eventually—but not right now this second!”

“But Papa did the special hugging!” Ruì Xuě insisted, waddling over to join his brother. He pressed his own ear against her stomach, right next to Yòu Lín’s head. “Maybe it’s very small. Like a seed. A-Li said babies start as seeds!”

“A-Li needs to stop explaining things,” Hóng Yè muttered.

From across the camp, Yàn Shū finally stirred. The Red Panda scholar sat up slowly, his glasses askew, his fluffy ears twitching. He took one look at the scene, Bai Yue trapped against a tree with two cubs attached to her stomach, Zhāo Yàn vibrating with jealous rage, Han Shān looking smug and flustered simultaneously, and blinked.

“Did I miss something important?” Yàn Shū asked blearily. “Statistically, the probability of waking to chaos is high, but this seems…..escalated.”

“Han Shān mated with her,” Zhāo Yàn bit out. “In the river. While we slept.”

Yàn Shū’s face went through approximately seventeen shades of red. “Oh. Oh my. That’s… that’s very… congratulations?”

“Don’t congratulate him!”

“I was being polite!”

Ruì Xuě, still pressed against Bai Yue’s stomach, suddenly gasped. “I felt something! I felt the baby!”

“That was my stomach growling!”

“It’s a hungry baby! A good sign! A-Li said hungry babies are healthy babies!”

“I am going to strangle A-Li,” Bai Yue groaned.

Han Shān, the traitor, was watching the scene with an expression of unguarded warmth. His son was excited. His mate was flustered and beautiful. His rival was having an aneurysm. It was, objectively, the best morning of his life.

He stepped forward, gently prying the cubs off Bai Yue. “Breakfast first,” he rumbled. “Baby discussion later.”

“But Papa—”

“Breakfast.” He fixed Ruì Xuě with a look. “Then answers.”

The cubs, recognizing the Voice, immediately scrambled toward the cooking fire where dried meat and berries waited.

As soon as they were gone, Han Shān turned to Bai Yue. His eyes dropped to her stomach, still flat, still normal, and something possessive and primal flickered in their depths.

He leaned down, his lips brushing her ear, his voice a low rumble meant for her alone.

“Nine weeks, Bai Yue. If there’s no baby yet… we should try again tonight. Just to be sure.”

Bai Yue’s brain short-circuited.

Zhāo Yàn, who had excellent hearing, let out a strangled shriek. “ABSOLUTELY NOT! TONIGHT IS MY TURN! I CALLED DIBS! I HAVE BEEN CALLING DIBS FOR DAYS!”

“You can’t call dibs on mating,” Yàn Shū pointed out reasonably.

“I CAN AND I DID!”

From the cooking fire, Ruì Xuě’s little voice piped up: “Papa! If you do more special hugging tonight, can I feel the baby tomorrow? I want to teach it to pounce!”

Han Shān looked at his son. Then at Bai Yue. Then back at his son.

A slow, terrifying smile spread across his face.

“Of course, Ruì Xuě. Papa will do his best.”

[DING! ☆]

[System Notification: Pregnancy Probability: Increasing. Husband Jealousy Levels: CRITICAL. Fox Lord Sanity: 12% and dropping.]

[Recommended Action: Hide. Just… hide.]

Bai Yue stared at the floating blue screen, then at her smug Snow Leopard husband, then at the Fox Lord who looked ready to commit murder, then at the cubs who were now discussing baby names loudly.

She buried her face in her hands.

Nine weeks. I have nine weeks of THIS.

From across the clearing, Yàn Shū cleared his throat nervously. “Um. If we’re… scheduling… I have a very nice poem about conception that I’ve been workshopping. It’s scientifically accurate! Mostly!”

Zhāo Yàn’s scream of frustration echoed through the forest, scaring birds for miles.

The cubs didn’t even look up.

“Baby name suggestions!” Yòu Lín announced. “If it’s a fox, Fluffy! If it’s a leopard, Snowball Junior!”

“Snowball Junior is perfect,” Ruì Xuě agreed solemnly.

Bai Yue face-palmed, letting out a sigh.

She didn’t know about the pair of eyes currently watching her family.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep