The morning breeze blew gently, shaking the trees. Jia Yu stood a little far away from their hut, her arms crossed tightly against her chest, her chin lifted stubbornly. Her posture was defiant, like someone ready for a fight.
It had been months since they got married. The couple had been enjoying the simple life nature had given them.
But in the past few days, Jia Yu had begun to nag over the slightest things, her mood shifting like storm clouds.
That morning, their quarrel was over something as small as cooking.
"I will not cook!" she screamed, her voice sharp as she stormed out of the hut. She stood outside, her eyes flashing, her body tense, as though daring anyone to challenge her.
Yan Qing, her husband, only shook his head, suppressing a sigh. Without a word, he went to the kitchen to prepare the meal she refused to make.
Grandma had gone to the market to buy a few things for the house, leaving the two of them alone.
When Yan Qing finished cooking, he called softly, "Jia Yu, come and eat. I have finished cooking."
Reluctantly, she joined him, but as soon as she tasted the food, she wrinkled her nose and began to complain. "It's too spicy," she muttered, her tone sharp.
Yan Qing's patience snapped. He stared at her, hurt and frustration darkening his face.
"What is wrong with you?" he asked, his voice rising. "For the past few days, you have been misbehaving. Tell me, what have I not done to make you happy?"
He pushed his food away and left the table, his steps heavy with anger.
Jia Yu's lips trembled. Tears welled up in her eyes as she stared at the untouched food. Her chest ached with guilt, but her pride wouldn't let her speak. She left the food as well and went inside to lie down, but her heart was restless.
As she lay on the bed, a sudden wave of nausea rose in her chest. Her stomach turned violently. She ran outside and vomited until nothing was left. Her knees weakened, her head spun, and moments later, she collapsed to the ground.
Half an hour passed before Yan Qing returned. He checked their room, but she wasn't there. As he cleaned the table and carried the dirty water outside, his eyes widened in shock—there she was, lying on the ground, pale and motionless.
His chest tightened, and panic gripped him.
"This girl will kill me," he murmured shakily, rushing to her side. He lifted her in his arms, his hands trembling, and carried her into the room.
By the time she stirred awake, she found herself in his embrace. Her eyes blurred with tears as she began to sob.
"I am sorry, Yan Qing," she whispered between tears. "I didn't mean to hurt you. I just… I don't like cooking anymore, and the food—it was too spicy and salty."
Hearing her broken voice, Yan Qing's heart twisted painfully. He pulled her closer, rubbing her back with trembling hands.
"I am sorry too," he murmured, his voice softer than before. "I should not have shouted at you. I will not do it again."
Her tears soaked his chest, but slowly, her sobs quieted as his arms wrapped gently around her. At that moment, their anger melted away, leaving only warmth and the fragile love that bound them together.
Grandma came back from the market, carrying a small basket of vegetables and dried fish. She noticed right away that the room was quiet, too quiet for a house where Jia Yu lived. Setting the basket down, she looked at Yan Qing, who sat with a worried face, his hand rubbing over his knees.
"What happened this time?" Grandma asked, narrowing her eyes.
Yan Qing hesitated. "She fainted outside. I brought her in, but she said she was only tired. She hasn't eaten."
Grandma frowned and walked to the chamber where Jia Yu lay curled on the bed. Her cheeks were pale, her lips pressed tight as if hiding something.
"Child," Grandma said softly, sitting beside her, "how long have you been like this? Mood swinging, quarreling, not wanting to cook, vomiting…." She paused, her eyes narrowing. "Don't tell me you don't know what this means."
Jia Yu's eyes widened. She sat up, flustered. "No, Grandma, it can't be—"
Yan Qing stood at the doorway, his heart thudding. "What are you saying, Grandma?"
The old woman gave a slow smile. "I am saying, foolish boy, that your wife is most likely with child."
For a moment the room was silent. Jia Yu gasped, tears welling in her eyes—not from sadness this time, but from shock. Yan Qing felt his knees weaken, his chest tightening in disbelief.
"You… you mean, I'm going to be a father?" he whispered.
Jia Yu turned away, embarrassed, but her voice shook as she muttered, "So that's why I've been feeling this way…."
Yan Qing rushed to her side, holding her hands tightly. All their quarrels seemed small now. "Jia Yu," he said with emotion in his throat, "you've given me the greatest gift."
She sniffed and pouted a little, "But you scolded me earlier."
Yan Qing chuckled through his tears, pressing her hand to his chest. "Then scold me back for a lifetime. Just… don't scare me like this again."
Grandma shook her head, hiding a smile as she muttered, "Young couples, always fighting before the joy."
The next morning, sun spilled softly into the hut. Jia Yu sat up slowly, her hand resting on her still-flat stomach. The memory of fainting the day before was fresh in her mind, and her heart beat faster at the thought of a little life inside her.
Yan Qing came in with a wooden tray, a bowl of porridge steaming gently on top. He set it down before her, his brows furrowed as if the weight of the world sat on his shoulders.
"Don't move too much," he said firmly, almost like a command. "From now on, you won't touch cold water, you won't lift anything heavy, and you certainly won't cook."
Jia Yu blinked, startled. "What? I can't even cook?"
Yan Qing crossed his arms, determination in his eyes. "No. You'll just rest. I'll take care of everything."
She pouted, folding her arms across her chest. "So now I'm useless?"
He softened, sitting beside her and taking her hand gently. "You're not useless, Jia Yu. You're carrying our child. That's the most important thing in this world."
Her lips trembled, torn between annoyance and the warmth swelling in her chest. She leaned against his shoulder, whispering, "You're going to spoil me too much…"
Yan Qing smiled faintly, pressing her hand against his chest. "Then let me spoil you. I'd rather you be angry at me than see you collapse again."