MPWATMBC Chapter 71

Ryan’s anger was tinged with a profound sense of powerlessness and deep concern. The helplessness coursed through his entire being, making the grand performances on the stage below seem gaudy and superficial. Beneath the layers of opulence, he saw nothing but the stench of scheming and rivalry. He curled his lips in a mocking smile, torn between feeling that his past sacrifices were unworthy and yet strangely justified. After all, one couldn’t expect humanity to maintain peace forever.

The way he felt now was like painstakingly creating a three-tiered cake, adorned with intricate and exquisite frosting, sprinkled with resplendent, regal gems. He had stepped away, thinking the frosted cake would last for centuries. Yet, its shelf life had been far too short. By the time it was brought out for enjoyment, the frosting had turned sour and rancid. Scraping off the frosting revealed the cake underneath, riddled with patches of green and black mold.

And looking deeper inside? It was even more rotten. In a fit of rage, he wanted to destroy it all. But the idea of ruining the cake meant obliterating the effort and care he’d poured into it. Keeping it felt nauseating, but destroying it felt like an even greater waste.

Ryan was utterly revolted by reality. He grabbed his wine glass and downed it in one go. Turns out champagne burns the throat when drunk too quickly.

“I can still make my voice heard in the organization, but…” Connor shook his head helplessly. “The influence of us conservatives is no longer what it used to be. We can’t suppress everyone anymore. People’s minds are restless; no one has the patience to sit and wait. They’d rather see quick, tangible results than hold out for something that takes time. And over time, the fruits of waiting might just turn into illusions.”

Ryan wanted to laugh, but he simply couldn’t. When it came to waiting, who had endured longer than he had?

Rubbing his temples, Ryan’s voice carried a hint of weariness. “Do you know their specific plans?”

Connor shook his head. “I’m sorry. I’ve already been shut out of their planning. All I know is they’re preparing to act—an assassination, a bloody offering before the National Day celebrations. They’ve twisted Emperor Qin Feng’s ideals of ‘freedom, equality, and kindness’ into something grotesque. To arbitrarily take someone’s life—how does that align with equality?!”

Ryan swirled his glass, pouring in another round of liquor. The tiny bubbles clinging to the sides of the glass exuded a strange charm. “That’s enough. Your warning has given us time to prepare.” He understood Connor’s position. As someone entrenched in the upper ranks of the “Bird of Paradise” organization, leaving wasn’t a simple matter of walking away unscathed.

Ryan patted Connor on the shoulder. Between brothers, there was no need for many words. Connor understood the unspoken message: he needed to stay safe and find a way out.

Connor leaned back against the sofa with ease, as if entirely unbothered by the chaos of his circumstances. No matter how turbulent the vortex, he remained as steady as a mountain. Reflecting on it, he realized his resilient heart had been forged by none other than Ryan.

Looking at Ryan, whose gentle demeanor concealed a core of iron and ruthless determination, Connor said, “I’ve never mentioned this, but congratulations, Ryan—you’re a father now.”

Standing up, he spread his arms wide, ready to give his cousin a big hug.

Ryan’s face twisted into an expression of disdain, but his actions betrayed no hesitation. He stood and embraced Connor. “Thank you, you…”

“This path—I chose it myself,” Connor interrupted, his voice firm. By willingly subjecting himself to cosmic radiation, he’d already prepared to walk a road with no return. But… his once resolute heart had started to waver. It had all begun with a moment of curiosity—inviting Ryan’s comrade to his home as a guest—and from there, his meticulously planned path began to veer off course.

Thinking back to Fan Lanting’s drunken antics, Connor couldn’t help but smirk. Fan Lanting had desperately tried to pour drink after drink into him, but before Connor felt any effects, it was Fan Lanting himself who had already slumped over, rambling nonsense. He spoke of admiration, of unfulfilled desires, of little schemes and the efforts made after their success. Then he’d rambled on about improbable, almost fantastical scenarios one might find only in novels—about fleeting passion, secret pregnancies, and love’s miracles being used to combat element deficiency syndrome…

Fan Lanting had shown a side that was oddly endearing—persistent, with a hint of vulnerability, and tears pooling at the corners of his eyes. That fragility, unwittingly, had drawn Connor in. He found himself sinking deeper, his resolve and ideals wavering. In that moment of weakness, he picked up the injection Ryan had given him and administered it.

Yet, Connor was already a senior member of Bird of Paradise, a position that came with an uncompromising demand: the acceptance of element deficiency to sever all avenues of retreat. This ensured no one could falter or soften their stance, eliminating any chance of hesitation.

“Connor, you’re not alone. We’re here for you,” Ryan said, gripping Connor’s shoulder firmly. His gaze was steady, full of unwavering resolve as he looked at his cousin. “Don’t think you have nothing. I, Auston, and the E69 plantation Star—we’re all your support. Don’t recklessly charge ahead. Before taking risks, think of us, think of your family. I won’t say more about your decision to join Bird of Paradise, but I’ll ask you this: take care of yourself.”

The unspoken implication in Ryan’s words was clear: this organization was rotten to its core. It was time to uproot it entirely, to eradicate it. And for Connor, who was embedded within, it was time to seriously consider his own path forward.

Connor nodded. “Don’t nag like an old mother. I get it. I’ll be careful, don’t worry.”

Ryan chuckled. “I won’t keep you, great writer. I’m off.”

Connor raised an eyebrow. “Not going to stay for the performance? We’ve got classic pieces like ‘Phoenix and Flight’ and ‘The Lotus Emerging from the Water’ tonight.”

Ryan smirked. “A bachelor like you wouldn’t understand the mood of someone wanting to go home.”

“Hmph, so being a dad is so impressive, huh?”

“Yep, very impressive. While I’m holding my soft little son, you’ll be a lonely bachelor. When my son can run and jump, you’ll still be a lonely bachelor. When my son has a family and career, you’ll still be a lonely bachelor. And when I’m surrounded by children and grandchildren, enjoying the joy of having a full house, you’ll still be a lonely bachelor.”

Connor: “…” Ouch, that hurts. Why had he never felt this way before?!

Ryan continued with the needle, “Tsk tsk. When we retire, Auston and I will be sitting by the lake, fishing and enjoying the view, while some lonely soul will be shaking his old hands, struggling to put on his clothes.”

Connor: “…That really has nothing to do with having kids, does it?”

Ryan: “Oh, I just wanted to say it.”

The sound of excitement came from across the sofa. Ryan and Connor turned to see Fan Lanting, who was completely drunk, somehow sitting up. His face was flushed red, and he wore a silly grin induced by the alcohol. He raised his hand high and shouted, “I’m going to have a monkey for Connor!”

Ryan struggled to suppress a laugh. “Good luck with that. I won’t interrupt you guys, I’m leaving.”

Fan Lanting, whose head was now full of mush from the alcohol, stumbled over, not noticing anyone else with Connor around. As a Belandian, he had a strong tolerance for alcohol, but he had underestimated Connor’s drinking abilities. He ended up vomiting all over himself and Connor. Connor, barely fazed, stripped him nearly naked and tossed him onto the sofa.

Now, as Fan Lanting staggered out from the couch, the blanket slipped off his shoulders, revealing his toned body. As the blanket continued to fall, it revealed a pair of black, tight-fitting underwear… which barely concealed certain areas. Coughing, it was clear that Fan Lanting was determined to do something drastic tonight, wearing seductive black underwear, with certain private parts just barely hidden.

Ryan quickly averted his gaze, refusing to look at the scene of Fan Lanting drunkenly embracing, kissing, and nibbling on Connor. He waved his hand in embarrassment. “I’m out, I’m out.”

Behind Ryan, Fan Lanting had latched onto Connor, clumsily planting kisses all over his face, rubbing up against him with unrestrained enthusiasm. Connor tried to tear him off, but that was impossible! The difference in strength between an unfit writer and a battle-hardened soldier was vast.

Connor’s patience snapped as his frustration grew. He shouted sharply, “Fan Lanting! Fan Lanting!! FAN LANTING!!!”

Fan Lanting paused in his fervent actions, his dazed eyes lifting to meet Connor’s. “Hmm?”

Connor stood rigid, like a tree with monkey on it. His voice was commanding as he ordered, “Let go of me!”

Fan Lanting pouted, rubbing his forehead against Connor’s face like a stubborn child. “No!!” His voice was louder than Connor’s, filled with defiance.

Connor’s tone grew colder. “I’m angry.”

Fan Lanting acted quickly, wrapping his long legs around Connor’s waist and pulling him closer with both arms around his neck, speaking with conviction, “Let yourself be angry, but I’m not letting go.”

Connor narrowed his eyes, “Are you drunk?”

Fan Lanting stubbornly refused, “Not at all, I’m a good drinker.” He hiccupped, he wasn’t pretending to be dizzy, he was really, really drunk. All he could think of was one thing, do Connor, heh heh heh heh.

“Mwahahahaha~” Fan Lanting continued to kiss, his breathing becoming ragged as his body reacted in the most honest way possible.

Connor froze in place for a moment, his right hand hanging at his side stretching out and clenching several times before finally placing it on Fan Lanting’s butt, dragging him to steady himself on the couch. Then he lifted his hand up to give Fan Lanting’s a*s a gentle slap and coaxed, “Let’s have some wine before we get down to business.”

Fan Lanting arched into Connor’s arms like a piglet, and reached out his paws to feel into Connor’s shirt, he’s touching the flesh ~ ow ow ow, he’s touching his idol’s flesh ~ ~ ~

“No!” Fierce Fan Lanting pinched Connor’s flesh and commanded, “Strip.”

Connor, “……”

Fan Lanting grunted, “If you don’t take it off, I’ll take it off.” It’s just a pair of small pants, what’s there to take off, just yank it off.

In order to avoid being too restrictive to the point of being indescribable, Connor held down Fan Lanting’s hand and coaxed in a soft voice, “Good boy, let’s drink and take off our clothes when we drink.”

Because of the drunkenness, the eyes that appeared more bright unblinkingly stared at Connor. Fan Lanting’s brain has only one equation, drinking = undressing, dazed and tipsy, he readily agreed, “Alright, fill it up! We drink—Belandians never fear alcohol!”

With an unruly little “monkey” sitting on his lap, Connor struggled to pour the wine, coaxing Fan Lanting to drink it down. Fan Lanting tipped his head back and boldly downed the glass, the pale golden liquid spilling over the corners of his mouth, dripping down his chin. Some droplets fell onto the floor while others trailed down his neck… The air grew thicker with the scent of alcohol, and the room’s temperature control system seemed to malfunction, the heat rising steadily. Both of their bodies felt feverish, and Connor’s gaze darkened as he battled his self-control, the effort sending tremors through him.

With his mouth still full of champagne, Fan Lanting leaned in closer to Connor, seeking his lips. Once they found each other, he didn’t want to let go. Lips and teeth intertwined, and amidst the intense kiss, the champagne was swallowed or spilled, dampening both their clothes and skin.

Time blurred. When Connor finally pulled back, panting heavily, his face flushed and eyes darkened, he glanced toward the grand stage below. The performance of The Lotus Emerging from the Water had reached its climax. The central actress leapt gracefully from the pool on stage, water cascading sensually down her perfect form. Yet, Connor’s gaze wasn’t focused on her at all.

Instead, he was softly and rhythmically patting Fan Lanting’s smooth back. The man had fallen into a deep sleep in his arms, snoring lightly. The pair of black briefs that Fan Lanting had so determinedly tried to remove earlier still clung snugly to his rounded backside, the attempt to strip them off unsuccessful. As for Connor, the turmoil stirring inside him slowly began to settle, leaving him quietly exhaling as the heat in his body ebbed away.

Some things can be done in the heat of the moment, but can the consequences of such impulses truly be borne? Connor didn’t know. He couldn’t bring himself to drag Fan Lanting into an inescapable abyss because of a fleeting moment of recklessness.

…

…

The western district was lively, bustling with activity. Meanwhile, the central business district had grown quiet with the absence of office workers, and the residential areas surrounding the city center glowed with the warm, welcoming light of homes. Moving further east, the outlines of trees, flowers, and grass were faint in the dim surroundings, with no vibrant lights to enliven the area. Instead, soft, gentle lighting illuminated the buildings, exuding a serene and sophisticated elegance.

This was the refined comfort born of wealth, status, and power—an experience achieved through relentless struggle or perhaps through generations of accumulation. Ryan gazed out at the view from the window and couldn’t help but marvel. It was no wonder so many people would go to any lengths, even breaking themselves, to climb higher.

At the center of the eastern district, a towering wisteria stood as the sole highlight amidst the understated scenery. Hidden spotlights cast soft beams of bright white light onto its cascading blossoms, making the purple-red flowers shimmer like sculpted gemstones. A gentle breeze stirred the flower clusters, causing them to sway lightly, and a faint fragrance seemed to drift toward one’s nose, subtle yet enchanting.

When Ryan arrived home, it was already close to 10:30 PM. In his household, there was no expectation for anyone to wait by the door. The staff stationed across various posts had already retired for the night. Only the household robots remained in their designated corners, silently awaiting his return. As he stepped inside, one of the robots approached, collected his coat, and asked, “Sir, would you like a late-night meal?”

“Not something instant,” Ryan replied. “Prepare noodles with scallions, eggs, and lard. And add a large potato.” Having taken a walk after dinner, Ryan felt the oxtail soup and seared steak from earlier had been thoroughly burned off by his activity. He now needed to replenish his energy to face the long night ahead. Getting Fat? Ryan’s level of physical activity demanded a greater caloric intake—he had no reason to worry about overeating leading to weight gain.

The household robot acknowledged, “Understood, sir.”

“And milk,” Ryan called out to the departing robot. “Buffalo milk and fresh ginger—have those ready as well.”

The household robot turned back and replied once more, “Understood, sir.”

Having no further instructions, Ryan headed upstairs toward his bedroom. As he reached the door and prepared to open it, he suddenly paused and turned toward the bathroom at the end of the hallway. Fifteen minutes later, freshly showered and dressed in clean clothes, Ryan stepped out. Being out in crowded areas, he had likely picked up countless bacteria; washing up gave him peace of mind.

Returning to the bedroom door, he pushed it open to see a warm, cozy glow from a small bedside lamp. The soft yellow light cast a limited circle of illumination, within which Auston lay asleep, propped against a large pillow. An e-reader rested in his hand, its e-ink screen still displaying The New Era Parenting Manual, open to page 88.

On the nightstand beside him was an open notebook with a pen lying across it. Whenever Auston came across something important in the book, he would jot it down, often sharing his insights with Ryan. The two rookie fathers, in their own clumsy but earnest way, were working to build up their theoretical knowledge, eager for the day a few months from now when they could put it all into practice.

Ryan moved quietly, stepping into the room with practiced ease. He took the e-reader from Auston’s hand, then gently lifted the blanket. One hand steadied Auston’s shoulder, the other slid under his knees, lifting him with practiced care. Auston, cradled in Ryan’s arms, stayed sound asleep, instinctively nuzzling closer to the familiar, comforting scent.

Ryan laid him down carefully, pulling the blanket up and tucking it around him. He leaned down to press a soft kiss to Auston’s forehead, then turned to leave. Before he could take a step, his wrist was caught.

Auston’s voice, drowsy but warm, reached him. “You’re back?”

“Yeah,” Ryan replied softly, sitting at the bedside and looking down at him. “Did I wake you?”

Auston shook his head slightly, still half-asleep. Ryan continued, “I’m going downstairs to make a late-night snack. Want some?”

“What are you making?” Auston asked, voice groggy but curious.

Ryan gave a small chuckle, knowing the internal conflict likely brewing in his partner. Auston rarely indulged in meals outside his strict routine—three meals a day, nothing more. But since they’d been together, Ryan had noticed cracks forming in Auston’s self-imposed discipline. Afternoon tea had become a thing. Snacks, too. And now the prospect of midnight snacks was tantalizingly close.

As if on cue, Auston’s hand drifted to his stomach. He winced inwardly. The once-taut muscles of his abdomen had softened. Earlier today, while brushing his teeth, he’d caught sight of his reflection. His face had rounded, and, horror of horrors, the faintest shadow of a double chin was beginning to emerge.

For the first time in his steadfast life, the resolute Imperial Admiral felt a twinge of panic. He was a man of order, discipline, and perfection, and now he felt as if those ideals were slipping from his grasp.

Just one more month, he resolved silently. Once the child was safely out of his body, he’d dive back into training, sculpting his body back to its peak. Until then, however, his lover’s tempting midnight creations would remain an ever-present challenge to his resolve.

Ryan smiled at the thought of Auston’s face softening and becoming rounder—it was a look that somehow made him even more endearing. He had long since realized that once he started spoiling Auston, there was no going back. “I’m making scallion oil noodles with a fried egg, and I’ll also prepare ginger milk pudding.”

Auston’s ears perked up at the mention of food. “Ginger milk pudding?”

“Yes, it’s similar to the double-skin milk pudding I made last time, but with a slightly different flavor. I can top it with fresh strawberries and strawberry sauce.”

Auston, now more awake, sat up in bed, his mind clearing. “Sounds delicious.”

“Anything else you’d like?” Ryan asked, his tone light but inviting.

Auston’s thoughts instinctively followed Ryan’s question, conjuring images of dishes like shrimp balls, corn fritters, scallion pancakes, rice-stuffed chicken wings, lotus root fritters, pineapple fried rice, chestnut cheese pie… After a flurry of food ideas swirled through his mind, he was suddenly struck by the realization that he had accumulated so much knowledge about food. It wasn’t long ago that the only recipes stored in his mind were sandwiches, instant noodles, nutritional supplements, and freeze-dried rations—simple, quick, and bland.

“You give me some advice,” Auston said, a bit frustrated.

“How about baking some fries in the oven?”

“Sure.” Auston broke free from the dilemma and let out a sigh of relief.

Ryan smiled gently. “Shall we go downstairs now?”

“Mm!” Auston enjoyed watching Ryan cook.

··

A large bowl of simple scallion oil noodles, topped with two fried eggs with crispy edges but still runny yolks, sat ready for sharing as Ryan and Auston waited for the ginger milk pudding to set and the oven to finish its work. Though not handmade, the fine, silky noodles were soft and perfectly absorbed the fragrant scallion oil and soy sauce—absolutely delightful. After finishing one fried egg, Auston found himself craving more, and to his surprise, a second egg appeared beneath his chopsticks. He looked up at Ryan, who was intently focused on eating his noodles.

“Let’s split it, half each,” Auston suggested.

Ryan replied, “You go ahead and eat. Once you’re done, you can give me some.”

Auston laughed. “If I do that, I won’t be able to stop myself from eating it all.”

“Then just eat it,” Ryan said with a small smile. “If you want more, I’ll make it again tomorrow. Two portions are enough for today.”

Auston lowered his head, a smile spreading across his face as he ate the fried egg, sweeter than honey. He picked up half of the egg and gently brought the other half to Ryan’s lips, watching as Ryan ate it from his chopsticks. In that moment, Auston’s mind blurred with overlapping images, where scenes from his dreams mixed with reality. He no longer needed to dream of these moments, for Ryan had already brought all the beauty he had hoped for into his life.

After a brief rest following their late-night snack, Ryan didn’t mention anything about what he had learned at the Red Mill. The security arrangements couldn’t be rushed; it was better to discuss them thoroughly during the day than to fret over them at night. After their rest, the two of them went to bed and slept soundly until morning, greeted by another clear, sunny day.

By daylight, Auston learned of Connor’s identity, as well as the actions of “Bird of Paradise” and its connections with high-level government officials. He fell into deep thought, then began to make plans. He also needed to inform those in his circle to start investigations and prepare. The most pressing task, however, was to upgrade the security at the old house. Auston and Ryan worked together, exchanging ideas and filling in the gaps. The old house would be as secure as a fortress—no fly would get in.

“On the E69 agricultural planet, I used this exact defense system. It worked very well,” Ryan explained, pointing to the modified sections on the security blueprint. “However, implementing it directly at home didn’t feel right, so I adjusted this… this… and here as well.” He highlighted the areas he had modified. “Combined with the existing security measures, even if an intruder manages to breach the outer perimeter, they can still be neutralized before reaching the main house.”

Auston nodded in agreement. “The best defense is one that balances offense and defense. Even a small breach compromises the entire system. I’ve already informed Bowers that the Dalton family won’t be receiving visitors for the foreseeable future.” He had no intention of leaving the old estate until the children were relocated.

Ryan concurred. “The enemy is in the shadows while we’re out in the open. Extra caution is never too much.”

By the time the estate’s security upgrades were completed, it was already three in the afternoon. Meanwhile, over at Yuan Chu, the modeling and adjustments had been finalized. Ryan received good news: the synchronization rate had increased to 89.98%, a significant improvement. It was just a fraction shy of the baseline threshold, but Ryan was confident he had pinpointed the key to further enhancing the sync rate for beast-type biomechanical mechas. With a few tweaks to the finer details, he was certain he could break past the 90% barrier.

Once immersed in work, time passed quickly. So quickly, in fact, that Ryan, always by Auston’s side, noticed new changes in the baby each time they checked. The doctor hadn’t been wrong—the third month was indeed a critical period for the baby’s growth. The little one, once as small as a bean sprout, had grown into a small grape, then a little walnut, and within just a couple of days, that walnut had grown into a large one… Through each check-up, they could clearly see the delicate limbs, the big head with large eyes—so much so that “cute” no longer felt adequate. Their little baby was truly the angel in Ryan and Auston’s lives.

Amidst the tension and anticipation, the check-up by Bunier revealed that the baby, now about the size of a small peach, had reached optimal growth. The moment had finally arrived. The old Dalton estate had been prepared with an operating room, fully equipped with state-of-the-art facilities, rivaling any hospital. Dr. Albert and his assistant, Bunier, arrived at the house for the surgery. This wasn’t their first time performing such a procedure—they were experts in the obstetrics and maternity field.

Having been born in a time of war, Ryan had often seen the red cross of hospitals and doctors in white coats amidst the chaos of flying blood and flesh. He instinctively resisted the closed doors of the operating room. Standing upright like a pine tree, his expression hard as stone, it felt as though the room behind those doors wasn’t a maternity ward, but a battlefield still ravaged by constant conflict. He was the general poised to charge out, bracing for what lay ahead.

And in truth, this was no small enemy—this was the little one who would compete for Auston’s attention for the rest of their lives. One little cry, and a whole army would rush to protect him. As much as Ryan anticipated the birth of their child, he couldn’t help but think that, in the future, he might just want to send the little one back to the incubator!

At the moment, Ryan was completely unaware of his future conflicting emotions. The operating room doors opened, and Bunier stepped out to deliver the good news. “Both the parent and the baby are doing great. You can go in now.”

The old staff of the Dalton family erupted in cheers of joy. Even the usually reserved butler, Bowers, couldn’t hold back his emotions. His eyes reddened, a glimmer of moisture threatening to spill over as he barely stopped himself from crying in front of everyone. Hearing that he could go in, Ryan didn’t waste a second, sprinting into the room. The functioning incubator was entirely ignored—his attention was solely on Auston, who had yet to wake from the anesthesia.

“Why isn’t he awake yet?” Ryan asked, holding Auston’s hand and pressing a kiss to his forehead, noticing the coolness of his skin.

Dr. Albert replied calmly, “The General has a degree of resistance to standard anesthetics, so we used an alternative. It takes a little longer for him to wake up. Don’t worry; this medication has been used millions of times in clinical practice and is extremely safe. Let me check…” He glanced at the clock and, after a quick mental calculation, reassured Ryan. “In ten more minutes, I’m sure the General will wake up.”

Ryan’s smile was tense. “Alright.”

Sensing Ryan’s unease, Dr. Albert tried to lighten the mood with a joke. “Relax! I’ll stake my medical career on it—if the General doesn’t wake up in ten minutes, you can take my hand as collateral.”

Ryan glanced at Dr. Albert with a faint look in his eyes. The joking doctor was taken aback, his heart racing. The smile hanging on his face quickly faded, and for some reason, Albert couldn’t shake the feeling that if General Dalton didn’t wake up in ten minutes, his hands might very well walk out the door. Fortunately, Albert’s calculation about the medication was correct—Auston woke up at seven minutes and thirty-five seconds. Ryan had been timing it, waiting, while Albert had been calculating to save his own hands. In the end, they had both arrived at the same result by different means.

“Auston?”

“I’m here.”

Auston, freshly out of surgery and still feeling the lingering effects of the anesthesia, felt a slight ache from the small incision on his abdomen, though it wasn’t too bothersome. “Where’s the baby?”

A fleeting look of confusion passed through Ryan’s eyes. The baby? As he had just become a father, Ryan suddenly realized he hadn’t even seen his child yet. His gaze quickly swept over to the incubator, and soon he spotted the small bundle inside. The baby, now at its current size, looked almost like an alien creature—a tiny pink ball of flesh. It was a far cry from the perfect, delicate little one Ryan had envisioned in his fantasies. He knew the baby’s growth still had a long way to go over the next six months, but it was hard to suppress the urge to see his child as flawless from the very beginning.

“You should prepare yourself mentally; the baby looks a bit… not quite there yet,” Ryan said as he helped Auston over to the incubator.

Auston looked at the tiny baby floating in the amniotic fluid, and an undeniable joy surged in his heart. His lips curled upward uncontrollably. “Nonsense, the baby is adorable. If you say such things, you’ll hurt their feelings.”

For reasons he couldn’t quite pinpoint, a faint sense of crisis crept into Ryan’s heart. He didn’t pay much attention to it at the moment, unaware that he hadn’t just gained a little baby but also a tiny rival for Auston’s affection. “Yes, very adorable,” Ryan replied with a smile. “No doubt, our child.”