Chapter 92: The Arrival of Little Zhen

“Let’s have a baby,” Wēn Jìng said warmly, as if she had just suggested a pleasant picnic rather than the most terrifying experience of Bai Yue’s entire existence.

Bai Yue wanted to respond with something witty, something brave, something that would show these people that she was the fierce Feral Mama who had fought hydras and faced down dragons.

Instead, another contraction hit, and all that came out was: “AAAAAAAARGH.”

“That’s it!” Gū Gū barked, brandishing her stick like a general’s sword. “Everyone MOVE! We need a hut! We need hot water! We need clean cloths! We need—”

“My hut,” Han Shān’s voice cut through the chaos. The Snow Leopard Alpha was already moving, his massive frame creating a path through the panicking crowd. “It’s the largest. The warmest. I prepared it.”

Bai Yue, doubled over and breathing like a dying steam engine, still managed to look up at him. “You… prepared… a hut?”

Han Shān’s ears went pink. “Weeks ago. Just in case.”

“He has been building things for weeks,” Zhāo Yàn added, appearing on Bai Yue’s other side. His usual smugness was completely gone, replaced by something that looked almost like panic. “Nests. Cradles. Something he called a ’baby-proofing system.’ I don’t know what that means.”

“It means exactly what it sounds like,” Han Shān growled.

“THERE IS NO TIME FOR THIS!” Gū Gū shrieked, physically shoving both Alphas aside. “The female is about to pop! Move your useless furry behinds and CARRY HER!”

Before Bai Yue could protest, not that she could, another contraction was already building, two sets of strong arms lifted her off the ground.

Han Shān had her shoulders. Zhāo Yàn had her legs.

“Put me down, I can walk—” she tried.

“You cannot,” Han Shān said flatly.

“Your legs are shaking,” Zhāo Yàn added.

“I’m FINE—AAAAAHHHHH.”

“You are not fine,” they said in unison.

Han Shān’s hut was, as promised, prepared.

The moment they crossed the threshold, Bai Yue forgot her pain for a split second just to stare.

The place was immaculate. Fresh furs covered every surface. A massive bed of softest white pelts dominated the center of the room, surrounded by stacks of clean cloths and woven blankets. A small, beautifully carved cradle sat in the corner, lined with what looked like silk. Bundles of dried herbs hung from the ceiling, filling the air with a calming lavender scent.

“You did all this?” Bai Yue whispered.

Han Shān looked away, his ears burning. “I had time.”

“You built a CRADLE?”

“The cubs helped. With the painting.” He pointed to the cradle, and Bai Yue noticed for the first time that it was covered in tiny, somewhat lopsided paw prints in various colors.

“PUT HER DOWN!” Gū Gū barked, shoving past them. “On the bed! Now!”

They laid her down gently, and then immediately started hovering.

“Out,” Gū Gū ordered, pointing her stick at the door. “All of you. OUT.”

“But—” Han Shān started.

“OUT.”

“I need to—” Zhāo Yàn tried.

“OUT.”

“The probability of complications decreases when—” Yàn Shū began.

Gū Gū whacked him with her stick. “OUT!”

The three husbands scrambled for the door, looking back at Bai Yue with expressions of pure terror.

“I’ll be fine!” Bai Yue called after them, though her voice cracked on the words.

The door closed.

And then it opened again immediately as Hóng Yè’s head appeared.

“I’m staying,” the teenager announced flatly.

“Hóng Yè—” Bai Yue started.

“I am staying.” His jaw was set, his amber eyes fierce despite the tremor in his hands. “Someone needs to make sure they don’t try to come back in. And someone needs to…” He trailed off, looking away. “Someone needs to be here.”

Gū Gū studied him for a moment, then nodded once. “Fine. You’re on door duty. If any of those fools try to enter, bite them.”

Hóng Yè’s chest puffed up slightly. “I will.”

~

The next few hours were… Bai Yue had no words for what they were.

The contractions came in waves, each one more intense than the last. Wēn Jìng was a rock beside her, holding her hand, wiping her forehead with cool cloths, murmuring encouragement in that calm, steady voice.

“You’re doing beautifully,” Wēn Jìng said for the hundredth time. “Absolutely beautifully.”

“I’m DYING,” Bai Yue gasped.

“You’re not dying. You’re bringing life into the world. There’s a difference.”

“Feels the SAME.”

Hán Bīng stood at the foot of the bed, her icy composure completely unshakeable. Every time Bai Yue screamed, she simply nodded and said things like “Good. That’s productive.” or “The baby is moving. Excellent progress.”

Gū Gū bustled around like a general commanding troops, directing Wēn Jìng, ordering Hóng Yè to fetch more water, and occasionally whacking things with her stick for emphasis.

Outside, Bai Yue could hear the chaos.

“The cursed female is having the baby!” someone shouted.

“BABY ZHEN IS COMING!”

“Is she dead yet?!”

“NO, SHE’S SCREAMING! THAT’S GOOD!”

“Should we do something?!”

“WHAT CAN WE DO?!”

“We could… stand here! Supportively!”

“YES! SUPPORTIVE STANDING!”

The entire Thousand Fang Tribe had apparently gathered outside the hut. Through the thin walls, Bai Yue could hear the shuffling of feet, the nervous murmurs, and the occasional yelp as someone got too close and Hóng Yè bit them.

“The snake twins are here!” a voice called out. “They’re forming a perimeter!”

“We will allow NO ONE through!” Shé Yì’s voice rang out.

“The cursed female is our auntie now!” Shé Èr added. “Anyone who tries to enter will be BITTEN!”

“We’re very good biters!” they said in unison.

Bai Yue laughed through a contraction, which was apparently not recommended because it made everything hurt worse.

~

Hours passed. The sun set and rose again. Bai Yue lost all sense of time.

All she knew was pain, and pressure, and Wēn Jìng’s calm voice, and Hán Bīng’s steady presence, and Gū Gū’s occasional whacks, and Hóng Yè’s fierce protection of the door.

“I can see the head,” Wēn Jìng announced suddenly.

Bai Yue’s heart stopped. “What?”

“The head. I can see it. One more big push, Bai Yue. One more.”

“I CAN’T.”

“You CAN.” Wēn Jìng’s voice was firm now, all warmth focused into steel. “You fought a hydra. You faced down dragons. You survived monkeys and vultures and a bear king. You can do THIS. Now PUSH.”

Bai Yue pushed.

She pushed with everything she had. She pushed for Ruì Xuě, who had called her Mama. She pushed for Yòu Lín, who believed in her completely. She pushed for Hóng Yè, who guarded her door. She pushed for Han Shān, who had built her a cradle. She pushed for Zhāo Yàn, who made her feel desired. She pushed for Yàn Shū, who wrote her poems.

She pushed for this baby, this tiny, precious life.

And then—

Silence.

The pressure was gone. The pain was fading to a dull ache.

“Oh? It’s a girl!”

But there was no sound.

Bai Yue’s blood ran cold.

“Why isn’t she crying?” she whispered. “Why isn’t he—”

Wēn Jìng’s face had gone pale. Hán Bīng’s expression was unreadable. Even Gū Gū had stopped moving.

The baby was out.

And she wasn’t crying.

“Give him to me,” Bai Yue demanded, her voice rising. “Give me my baby.”

Wēn Jìng moved slowly, carefully, placing the tiny, silent bundle in Bai Yue’s arms.

She was beautiful. Perfect. Ten tiny fingers, ten tiny toes, a tuft of white hair on her head that was already sticking up in seventeen directions.

But her eyes were closed. Her chest wasn’t moving.

“Zhen,” Bai Yue whispered, tears streaming down her face. “Zhen, baby, please. Please cry. Please.”

Outside, the tribe had gone silent too. They could feel it,something was wrong.

Inside, the grandmothers exchanged desperate glances.

And the baby didn’t move.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep