Chapter 89: Electric Boogaloo

Han Shān’s mother, Hán Bīng, sat on the best bench (forcibly relocated from the hunting demonstration area) with the posture of a queen surveying her conquered territory.

Her silver-white hair caught the light like frozen waterfalls, and her piercing blue eyes missed absolutely nothing.

Ruì Xuě was curled in her lap.

“I like you,” Ruì Xuě announced, patting her cheek with a tiny paw.

Hán Bīng’s expression softened by approximately 2%. For her, this was practically a beaming smile.

“You have good instincts, cub,” she said, stroking his white fur. “You get that from me.”

“From YOU?” Han Shān muttered from where he stood guard, strategically positioned between his mother and Bai Yue, like a very tall, very stressed buffer.

“Yes. From me.” Hán Bīng didn’t even look at him. “Your father had terrible instincts. Remember when he tried to fight that avalanche?”

“He won.”

“He lost. The avalanche surrendered out of pity.”

Ruì Xuě giggled. Hán Bīng’s expression softened another percentage point.

Nearby, Tiě Xióng sat on an upturned log, nursing the two lumps on his head and looking like a very large, very grumpy bear who had been thoroughly put in his place.

Mo Xiao sat beside him.

Not because they were friends. Because Mo Xiao had been assigned “Bear King Babysitting Duty” by the grandmother coalition, and he was taking his job very seriously.

“Don’t even think about moving,” Mo Xiao said pleasantly.

“I’m not moving.”

“Good.”

“I’m plotting my revenge, but physically, I’m not moving.”

“That’s fine. Plot quietly.”

Tiě Xióng glared at him. Mo Xiao glared back.

It was going to be a long day.

Meanwhile, at the central fire, Bai Yue was attempting to have a normal conversation with her three husbands while also being actively judged by her mother-in-law.

It was going…..poorly.

“Your walk is uneven,” Hán Bīng observed.

Bai Yue paused mid-step. “I’m sorry?”

“Your walk. It’s uneven. You’re favoring your left side. Bad for the baby. Fix it.”

“I’m… not… favoring anything?”

“You are. Han Shān, tell her she’s favoring.”

Han Shān looked at his mother. Looked at Bai Yue. Looked at the sky, as if begging the ancestors for intervention.

“She… might be slightly favoring?” he tried.

“SEE?” Hán Bīng nodded triumphantly. “Fix it.”

Bai Yue bit back approximately seventeen responses and consciously evened her stance.

Ruì Xuě, still in Hán Bīng’s lap, tilted his head. “Grandma, why are you being mean to Mama?”

The clearing went silent.

Hán Bīng looked down at her grandson. “I’m not being mean. I’m being helpful.”

“It sounds mean.”

“Helpful often sounds mean. You’ll learn that when you’re older.” She paused, then added, slightly softer: “But I’ll try to be less… mean.”

“…Okay.” Ruì Xuě snuggled back into her lap, satisfied.

“The baby,” Hán Bīng suddenly announced after some time had passed.

Everyone braced.

“How is it? The baby. How is it doing?”

Bai Yue blinked. “It’s…fine?”

Hán Bīng nodded approvingly. “Have you decided on a name?”

“Yes.”

All three husbands snapped their heads toward her.

“Yes?” Zhāo Yàn’s ears perked up. “You’ve decided? When? Why didn’t you tell us?”

“I decided privately,” Bai Yue said, a small smile playing on her lips. “It felt right.”

“What is it?” Han Shān asked, stepping closer.

“What is it?!” Yàn Shū echoed, practically vibrating with curiosity.

Bai Yue looked at them, her three ridiculous, wonderful, chaotic husbands, and felt warmth bloom in her chest despite the morning’s chaos.

“I’m naming him

Silence.

“Zhēn?” Zhāo Yàn repeated. “As in… precious? True?”

“Yes.” Bai Yue’s hand drifted to her belly. “Because he’s precious. Because this family, all of it, all of you, is the truest thing I’ve ever had.”

Han Shān’s ears went pink.

Zhāo Yàn’s tails started wagging before he could stop them.

Yàn Shū made a sound suspiciously like a sob and quickly covered his mouth.

“That’s…” Han Shān started. Stopped. Started again. “That’s…”

“Good,” Hán Bīng finished for him. “Simple. Strong. Meaningful.” She looked at Bai Yue with something that might, might, have been approval. “You chose well.”

Ruì Xuě bounced in her lap. “Zhēn! Baby Zhēn! Can I teach him to pounce? Can I? CAN I?”

“When he’s older,” Bai Yue laughed. “Definitely.”

The morning wore on. The cubs played. The adults… existed, in various states of tension and exhaustion.

Gū Gū had produced tea from somewhere and was drinking it with a satisfied air.

Hán Bīng had reluctantly allowed Ruì Xuě to return to his siblings but kept shooting glances at Bai Yue, assessing, calculating.

Finally, she spoke again.

“You.”

Bai Yue looked up from her drink. “Yes?”

“The panda.” Hán Bīng gestured at Yàn Shū, who immediately went rigid. “Is your mother coming?”

Yàn Shū blinked. “I… yes? Gū Gū sent word to her as well, so she should be arriving… sometime today. Or tomorrow. Travel times are variable depending on—”

“Good.” Hán Bīng nodded. “We should meet. The grandmothers. Discuss arrangements.”

“Arrangements?” Bai Yue asked warily.

“For the birth. For the naming ceremony. For the cub’s future.” Hán Bīng counted on her fingers. “There are traditions. Protocols. Hierarchies to establish.”

“There are… hierarchies for grandmothers?”

“Of COURSE there are. Someone has to be in charge.”

Gū Gū raised her tea. “It’s going to be me.”

“We’ll see about that, fox.”

“Oh, we will, ice queen.”

The two elderly women locked eyes. The temperature in the clearing fluctuated wildly.

Bai Yue buried her face in her hands.

~

By midday, Yàn Shū’s mother had still not arrived, much to Yàn Shū’s growing anxiety.

“she should be here by now,” he muttered, pacing. “Unless she got lost. She always gets lost. One time she got lost going to the river. The river that was visible from her hut.”

“She’ll be fine,” Bai Yue assured him.

“Will she? Will she REALLY? Because the last time she got lost, she ended up in crane territory and accidentally negotiated a trade alliance. She doesn’t even LIKE cranes!”

As the sun began its slow descent toward the treeline, Hán Bīng stood.

Everyone tensed.

She walked across the clearing until she stood directly in front of Bai Yue.

Bai Yue looked up at her. Tried not to gulp.

“You,” Hán Bīng said.

“…Yes?”

“Follow me.”

Bai Yue blinked. “What? Why?”

Hán Bīng’s eyebrow arched. “Don’t be silly. Follow me.”

“I’m not being silly, I’m asking for context! Why should I follow you? Where are we going? What’s happening?”

“You ask too many questions.”

“That’s a normal amount of questions for someone being told to follow a person they just met!”

Hán Bīng stared at her for a long, uncomfortable moment.

Then, very slightly, the corner of her mouth twitched.

“You have spirit,” she said. “Good. You’ll need it.”

“That doesn’t answer my question!”

“Follow me.” Hán Bīng turned and began walking toward the tree line. “Now. Before I change my mind.”

Bai Yue looked desperately at her husbands.

Han Shān looked as confused as she felt.

Zhāo Yàn shrugged helplessly.

Yàn Shū was too busy panicking about his mother to be useful.

Gū Gū just laughed.

“Go on, girl,” the fox grandmother cackled. “When an ice queen summons you, you go. It’s in the rules.”

“There are RULES?!”

“Of course there are rules. Now GO.”

Bai Yue took a deep breath. Let it out. Struggled to her feet, which took approximately three times longer than it used to.

Hán Bīng waited at the tree line, expression unreadable.

“I hate this,” Bai Yue muttered.

“You love it,” Yòu Lín called out helpfully. “Your face does the thing!”

“What thing?!”

“The happy-scared thing! Like when Papa does the special hugging!”

“YÒU LÍN.”

But Bai Yue was already waddling toward the tree line, toward her terrifying mother-in-law, toward whatever mysterious fate awaited her.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep