Work Text:
The streets of Yixing remained steeped in festive colors, lanterns swaying lazily in the morning breeze as Jing Jing and Yu Tu stepped out of the hotel. The echoes of holiday laughter still lingered in the air, but now, a quiet farewell settled between them. Their families had bid them goodbye with warm wishes and lingering embraces, and now, it was just the two of them, leaving behind the familiar comforts of home.
The drive to Shanghai was subdued, the weight of the holiday resting on their shoulders like a cherished memory. Jing Jing leaned against the window, watching as the gentle nostalgia of Yixing faded into sprawling highways. The vibrant countryside gave way to the monotony of asphalt, each passing mile pulling them closer to the city's restless energy.
A dull ache nestled in her limbs, dragging her into a quiet exhaustion. She let out a soft sigh, dismissing the discomfort as nothing more than the aftereffects of celebration—late nights, endless conversations, too many shared drinks and fleeting moments of joy.
Yu Tu, ever perceptive, glanced at her. The corners of his lips lifted in amusement as he teased. “You okay? Did I overwork you last night?”
She mustered a smile, shaking her head. “Just tired.”
Though her words were light, Yu Tu studied her for a beat longer, as if searching for something unsaid. Then, without another word, he reached out, fingers curling around hers in a reassuring squeeze before turning his focus back to the road.
The city awaited them, but for now, they had the quiet hum of the car, the warmth of shared silence, and the promise of whatever came next.
By the time they pulled into their Shanghai apartment complex, the city was alive with its usual restless rhythm—neon lights flickering in the distance, the hum of late-night traffic weaving through the streets, the lingering warmth of the holiday still pulsing beneath the surface. But inside their car, an entirely different atmosphere settled—a quiet, familiar anticipation. Yu Tu shut off the engine and turned to Jing Jing.
“We still have a celebration to continue,” he reminded her, his voice teasing yet expectant.
She managed a tired smile, though every muscle in her body protested. She had wanted their back-to-back dating anniversary marked with memorable dinners, deep conversations, stolen moments of indulgence. But tonight, exhaustion won out.
As they stepped into their home, she wasted no time peeling off her coat and heading straight for the bathroom. The warm water melted away the weariness clinging to her skin, soothing the ache that had followed her since the drive. She sighed as the steam wrapped around her, momentarily chasing away the fatigue.
By the time she stepped out, refreshed but still utterly drained, she barely had the energy to pull back the covers before collapsing onto the bed. Yu Tu leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, watching her with mild amusement.
“Are you really calling it quits already?”
Jing Jing groaned, burying her face in the pillow. “Rain check?”
A chuckle. Then warmth. Yu Tu settling beside her, gently pulling the blanket over her shoulders. “Fine, but only because you look half-asleep already.”
She peeked at him through heavy lids, murmuring, “Thanks for understanding.”
Yu Tu shook his head with mock disappointment. “What am I going to do with you?”
“Love me forever,” she whispered, her voice barely above a breath.
And Yu Tu, watching her drift off, only smiled. “Already do.”
By Friday, Jing Jing was still feeling sluggish, her energy refusing to return in full. Yu Tu had already left for work, his usual early-morning departure leaving the apartment quiet. She curled up on the couch, nursing a cup of tea, flipping through channels without focus.
Then, a knock.
She shuffled to the door, revealing Xiao Zhu and Sister Ling, grinning from ear to ear.
“Surprise visit!” Xiao Zhu declared, holding up bags of food. “We figured you’d be lonely with Teacher Yu working, so here we are.”
“Letting you suffer alone would be cruel,” Sister Ling added playfully. “And you look like you need a distraction.”
Jing Jing sighed dramatically. “I think I might be dying.”
Xiao Zhu gasped. “Wow, very dramatic.”
Sister Ling tilted her head, studying her friend. “No, seriously, you don’t look great. Have you eaten properly?”
“I’ve tried.” Jing Jing replied.
“Well, that’s not convincing,” Sister Ling said, already pulling out dishes and setting the table. “Sit. Eat. Then we’ll gossip about everything you missed while you were away.”
The warmth of friendship filled the space, laughter blending with the scent of homemade food. Jing Jing felt herself relax, her exhaustion momentarily forgotten.
By the time Yu Tu and Jing Jing arrived at the airport in Shanghai on Sunday, she felt noticeably better. The exhaustion that had weighed her down in the past few days seemed to lift, leaving her feeling refreshed. As they settled into their seats on the plane, she stretched slightly, breathing in the crisp air circulating through the cabin.
“I think I’m finally back to normal,” she said, turning to Yu Tu with a small smile.
Yu Tu raised an eyebrow, skeptical. “Are you sure, or is this just temporary optimism?”
She scoffed. “I’m fine, really.”
Yu Tu didn’t push further, simply reaching for her hand and intertwining his fingers with hers. “Good. Because I don’t want to spend our flight watching you doze off like an old lady.”
Jing Jing playfully elbowed him. “Rude.”
Their banter carried them through the flight journey to Beijing, and for the first time in days, Jing Jing truly felt like herself again.
Monday morning arrived with a sense of normalcy. The city hummed with its usual energy, and Jing Jing woke up feeling refreshed, ready to ease into the day. Yu Tu, already dressed for work, glanced at her as he buttoned his cuffs.
“No complaints about exhaustion today? I didn’t overworked you this morning?”
Jing Jing shook her head. “Nope. I think I’ve finally recovered.”
“Good,” he said, smirking. “Then I can focus without worrying about you secretly collapsing at home.”
She rolled her eyes. “Go save the world, Engineer Yu. I’ll be perfectly fine here.”
With that, Yu Tu left for work, and Jing Jing went about her day, feeling at ease again. The tiredness was gone—at least, for now. But by Tuesday, the relief was short-lived.
It started small—the faint heaviness in her limbs, the subtle fog creeping into her mind. By midday, the same fatigue she had pushed past days ago returned with full force, dragging her down like an anchor. Jing Jing frowned, trying to shake off the sluggishness. She had thought she was better. Had she overestimated her recovery? By evening, even the simple act of moving around felt like an effort. She sank into the couch, frustration settling in.
“I thought I was done with this,” she muttered to herself.
With that thought, she was fine again the next day. But her body had other plans and so by Thursday midday, the exhaustion returned, creeping back like an unwelcome shadow. Jing Jing sighed, sinking into the couch, frustration gnawing at her. I thought I was done with this. Her phone buzzed. A video call from Sister Ling.
Jing Jing forced a tired smile as she answered, but Sister Ling’s expression instantly shifted to concern.
“You look awful,” she stated bluntly, scanning Jing Jing’s pale complexion.
Jing Jing groaned. “Thanks for the confidence boost.”
Sister Ling ignored the joke, her eyes narrowing thoughtfully. “You said you were fine yesterday. What happened?”
“I don’t know. It just came back.”
A pause. Sister Ling studied her, an unspoken thought flickering across her face—but she didn’t voice it. Instead, she exhaled quietly and said, “You need to see a doctor.”
Jing Jing waved a hand dismissively. “It’s just fatigue—”
“No.” Sister Ling’s tone was firm, but there was something underneath it. Caution. Restraint. “This has gone on too long. Just go. Let a professional check.”
Jing Jing hesitated, sensing something unsaid. But Sister Ling didn’t push further—because she wasn’t entirely sure. She didn’t want to say it. Not yet. Not unless she was certain.
Jing Jing sighed. “Fine, I’ll go.”
Sister Ling forced a small smile, but even as the call ended, worry lingered in her eyes. Because if she was right… this would change everything.
It was Friday night when Yu Tu stepped through the door, expecting the start of their long-awaited anniversary celebration. Instead, he found Jing Jing curled up on the couch, absentmindedly twirling a pen between her fingers, eyes flickering toward him with an unreadable expression. The soft glow of the lamp bathed the room in warmth, the distant hum of the city barely intruding on the quiet intimacy of their space.
He glanced around, noting the absence of any signs that they were heading out. “Are we not going to dinner?”
Jing Jing shook her head with a small smile. “No, I’ve ordered in.” Then, just as casually, she held out a folder. “Help me practice my lines?”
Yu Tu blinked, taken aback. “Lines?”
This was Friday night, the start of their 5th wedding anniversary celebration—a night meant for indulgence, nostalgia, and celebration. Practicing lines was hardly on the agenda. His brow furrowed as he took the folder, flipping through the pages in confusion.
"What kind of script is this?"
Jing Jing bit her lip to suppress a smile, watching him flip through the pages with quiet concentration. Then, his hands stilled. His eyes narrowed slightly, rereading something—something that didn’t quite fit. She held her breath. Then, slowly, his gaze lifted, locked onto her in pure disbelief.
“This … This isn’t a script,” he muttered.
Jing Jing beamed. “Nope.”
Yu Tu stared at the printed report, heart hammering against his chest as realization dawned—pregnant. His mouth opened, but no words came out. He blinked. Once. Twice.
“You—” His voice cracked slightly before he cleared his throat. “You’re pregnant?”
Jing Jing smirked and then nodded, biting back a laugh at his stunned expression. A moment of silence. Then Yu Tu shot up so fast he nearly knocked over the coffee table.
“Wait—wait! You should be resting! Why are you sitting here? Do you need water? A pillow? Should I call the doctor? Do we have enough vitamins at home? Do you feel okay?”
Jing Jing barely managed to suppress her giggles as he rushed around, suddenly looking at their apartment like it was a death trap.
“This couch is too lumpy. Should you even be sitting on it?”
She rolled her eyes. “Yu Tu—”
“Wait, forget the couch! Should I carry you to bed? No, actually, maybe we should get a new mattress. A softer one. A better one. You need comfort—”
Jing Jing finally broke into laughter, watching him unravel into full panic mode. “Yu Tu, I’m pregnant, not fragile glass.”
Yu Tu wasn’t listening—he was already halfway to making a checklist, muttering about prenatal care, researching pregnancy-safe diets, and debating whether he should personally oversee her every step from now on. It was official: Engineer Yu had entered Overprotective Husband Mode.
And Jing Jing? She was about to have way too much fun with this. But before that, she nudged Yu Tu toward the bedroom.
"Go shower, freshen up. Then we can actually start celebrating our anniversary."
Yu Tu hesitated, casting one last glance at the report on the coffee table like it might change if he blinked. "You’re sure you’re feeling okay?"
She rolled her eyes, pushing him lightly. "Yes! Go!"
Reluctantly, he shuffled off, still muttering under his breath about checking their apartment’s air quality and making sure their vitamin supply was up to par. Jing Jing shook her head, amused. This man.
When he finally emerged, hair still damp and dressed comfortably in a loose sweater and sweatpants, she had their ordered-in dinner set up—warm dishes filling the air with delicious aromas. Yu Tu sighed as he sat down.
"Okay, now tell me everything. Did you have any idea you were pregnant?"
Jing Jing took a sip of her soup, watching him over the rim of her bowl. "Honestly? At first, I thought I was sick because of you."
Yu Tu froze mid-reach for his chopsticks. "Because of me?"
"Mm-hm. I wasn’t feeling great, and you know me—I rarely get sick. So naturally, I started wondering if it had something to do with... well..." She set her spoon down, giving him a deliberate look. "Us. Specifically, how often we've been... you know..."
Yu Tu blinked, processing. Jing Jing raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to catch up. It took a few more seconds, but when the realization hit, the tips of his ears turned red.
"Wait—you thought... our intimacy made you sick?"
She smirked. "What else was I supposed to think? You’re pretty intense, Engineer Yu."
Yu Tu sputtered. "I—I am not—!"
She tilted her head, feigning innocence. "No? Should we go over the frequency again?"
His face turned even redder. "That’s not—! I mean—!"
Jing Jing laughed, savoring the rare sight of him being utterly flustered. "Relax, Yu Tu. Turns out I wasn’t ‘sick’ at all."
"And so you told the doctor that...?"
Jing Jing nodded, taking another sip of her soup. "Well, she asked if I’d eaten anything unusual lately or if my routine had changed. And, honestly, that was the only thing that came to mind. After all, we hadn’t been together for six months, and then..." She gave him a pointed look. "You know the rest."
Yu Tu cleared his throat, but it didn’t stop the deepening flush in his cheeks. "You actually told her that?"
"Of course." Jing Jing set down her spoon, casually continuing, "I started feeling sick after Valentine’s Day, remember? Then I felt better by Sunday, so we were together again on Monday. And—well—Tuesday, I was sick again."
Yu Tu stared at her, utterly mortified. "You told her all of that?"
Jing Jing smirked, leaning in slightly. "She’s a doctor, Yu Tu. It’s relevant information. Besides—what, are you embarrassed?"
He huffed, crossing his arms like he could somehow shield himself from the teasing.
"I just didn’t realize you'd reported our... frequency as part of a medical history."
"It was an important factor." She tilted her head playfully. "Unless, of course, you’re worried she thinks you’re the cause of my symptoms?"
Yu Tu groaned, rubbing his temples. "I am not—!"
Jing Jing grinned, thoroughly entertained. "Relax, Engineer Yu. Turns out, you weren’t making me ‘sick’ after all. We’re fine. Completely fine. Even that is fine, she even explained things in detail, if you’re curious."
Yu Tu visibly struggled, logic warring with embarrassment. "I—well—shouldn’t we still be careful?"
Jing Jing leaned in, eyes glinting mischievously. "Are you saying you’d rather abstain completely?"
He stared at her, torn between wanting to be the responsible husband and also realizing what, exactly, she was implying.
"I—"
She giggled. "You’re adorable when you panic."
After finishing their meal, Yu Tu set his chopsticks down and reached for the folder on the table. He had already read the report once, but now, with the initial shock settling, he wanted to go over every detail again—just to be sure. Jing Jing watched him, amused by his meticulous nature.
"You know, staring at it won’t make the numbers change."
"I just want to be thorough," he replied absently, flipping the pages. "You’re 38. That means we need to be extra careful. And you’re still doing promotional work—maybe it’s best if you stop."
Jing Jing raised an eyebrow. "It’s just a few events in Beijing. No strenuous filming. Besides, it’s my job."
Yu Tu met her gaze, serious. "Your health is more important than your job."
She smirked, leaning back. "Are you telling me to quit work completely?"
"No," he admitted. "But taking a break wouldn’t hurt. I’ll be back in Shanghai by mid-March. Once we’re both home, things will be more stable."
Jing Jing sighed, swirling her tea in her cup. "I get what you’re saying, but I feel fine, Yu Tu. And stopping everything right away feels... unnecessary."
Yu Tu hesitated, then reached across the table, taking her hand in his.
"It’s because I want you to be more than fine. I know you can handle this, but I just... want to make sure you don’t overdo it."
Jing Jing softened, pressing her fingers against his. "You really have gone full protective mode, huh?"
"Of course," he murmured. "You’re carrying our child."
For a moment, silence stretched between them—warm and meaningful. Then, Jing Jing chuckled.
"Alright, Engineer Yu. I’ll think about it. But no excessive hovering. Deal?"
Yu Tu considered. "That depends on what you define as ‘excessive’." He set the report down, his fingers lingering on the edge of the folder as he glanced at his wife. "Alright, so no more filming for now."
She sighed, crossing her arms. "We agreed I’d think about it."
"Sure." He leaned back, thoughtful. "Now that we’re talking about excessive activities, I was wondering…"
Jing Jing arched an eyebrow. "Wondering what?"
Yu Tu’s lips curled slightly. "Would you consider celebrating our anniversary and this news in a more... intimate way to be excessive?"
She blinked, caught off guard for once. "You—!"
"I mean," he continued smoothly, "the doctor did say we don’t have to refrain. And since we’re celebrating..."
Jing Jing scoffed, shaking her head as she reached for her tea.
"Ah, so now you trust the doctor?"
Yu Tu shrugged, looking entirely too smug. "When the advice is useful, why not?"
She let out a dramatic sigh. "You, Engineer Yu, are unbelievable."
"Unbelievably in love with my wife," he corrected, reaching for her hand. "And very interested in continuing this conversation."
Jing Jing laughed softly, shaking her head, but didn’t pull away.
"You’re impossible."
"Yet you married me anyway," he reminded her, squeezing her fingers gently.