TFRLTOP Chapter 52 Part 2

The system yanked off the pain-block, and Ming Ming immediately let out a real, gut-wrenching scream.

“I checked—” the system said, “—you need the pain to push properly.”

“Lies! I don’t care, turn it back on!”

“…Fine.”

And just like that, she was fine again.

Hours later, Junsheng paced anxiously outside while the Yan parents and Chen Weiguo fidgeted.

Finally, the doctor burst out. “Family of Chen Chanjuan?”

Junsheng rushed forward. “I’m her husband.”

“Her condition isn’t good. Complications: heavy bleeding. You need to sign this critical consent form.”

His whole body trembled, barely able to stand.

The doctor tried to reassure him, but Junsheng grabbed his hand, veins bulging as he growled, “Do whatever it takes to save her.”

His eyes were bloodshot.

Four or five hours later, a baby’s cry rang out.

Junsheng’s hand shook against the doorframe. “What about the mother? How is she?”

Father Yan tried to calm him, but he couldn’t.

“Juan’er! Juan’er!”

He was terrified of bad news.

Then the doctor appeared, mask off, smiling. “Congratulations. Mother and daughter are safe.”

Junsheng’s knees nearly gave out. His back was soaked with cold sweat, but finally he could breathe.

Inside, Ming Ming was utterly drained. Even with cheat codes, she felt like she’d died.

Seeing him, she barely managed to blink.

“God, I think my health bar’s empty. I swear I just saw my great-grandmother.”

The system insisted her blood loss and exhaustion were from the pain-block. Ming Ming absolutely refused to believe it.

Just then, a familiar ding sounded.

“Congratulations. Side quest completed. Hidden achievement unlocked.

This world’s evaluation: Pass.”

Ming Ming’s eyes flew wide. “No way. Right now? What the hell did Bai Yuehua do this time? How does she always pick the worst timing?!”

“System? System?!”

She reached out a trembling hand. Junsheng clasped it tightly. “It’s all right, Juan’er. You’re safe. You’ve suffered enough.”

Safe? she thought. I’m about to be logged out…

In a broken voice, she asked, “Where’s my baby? Is it a boy-ball or a girl-ball?”

“A girl-ball. Chen Beixin.”

“Go to hell, Yan Junsheng! If you dare name her Chen Beixin, I’ll haunt you forever—” she sobbed.

“Don’t talk nonsense,” he soothed. “You just walked back from the gates of hell. No ghost talk.”

She cried harder, while he comforted her with plans for their future, money they’d made, and dreams they’d share.

Which only made her sadder.

She even prepared her last words—until she realized something was off.

This time, the system’s exit message… was missing something.

Missing what?

Ming Ming suddenly had a flash of insight—it was missing the last line: “Exiting…”

She sucked in a sharp breath.

Could it be… could it really be…?

“Yes,” the system said smugly. “This world doesn’t need an immediate exit. I worked hard to buy you some extra time. Go ahead and enjoy it.”

Ming Ming instantly wiped away her tears. “Why the hell didn’t you say that earlier? I wasted real, heartfelt tears for nothing.”

System: “…”

When Ming Ming was done with postpartum confinement, she was all geared up to throw herself into making money—when a sudden announcement shocked her: the national college entrance exam was reinstated!

There were fewer than four months to go before the big exam. Yan Junsheng was determined to send his little genius of a wife to the test hall.

“I mean… I’m already rich. Do I really have to take the exam?” Ming Ming grew lazy and tried to bargain. “Who studies right after postpartum recovery? I want to make money, not study!”

Yan Junsheng was uncharacteristically cold about it: “No. You’re taking it.”

“…Old man, can’t you reconsider?”

“You just finished confinement, what are you even thinking?” He poked her forehead, paused, then added, “Until I get my vasectomy, you’ll just have to bear with it.”

He was genuinely spooked and determined to eliminate every possible accident.

Ming Ming: Tch! You really think I’m that desperate?!

So, Yan Junsheng drafted a brutal study plan for her—so meticulously reasonable it even included morning and evening self-study. Ming Ming sometimes suspected he, too, was a time traveler.

“My baby? Let me take care of the baby instead! I don’t want to memorize politics!”

“Be good. Finish this chapter, then you can play—uh, hold your baby—for a while.”

Truthfully, Ming Ming never had to worry much about childcare. Her routine was simple: study until tired, then wander over to the cradle to play with Chen Beixin. When she made the baby cry, she handed her back to Junsheng and returned to studying.

…Honestly, kind of therapeutic.

For her, at least.

When Junsheng wasn’t around, Yan’s parents quietly stepped in to soothe the baby. Chen Weiguo mostly stayed hands-off—since his in-laws were so proactive, he was happy just to play “fun grandpa” when convenient.

As the exam approached, Junsheng made a trip back to the countryside and came home leading a lamb.

“Raise it a few days. In a bit, I’ll roast it whole for you. Skewers too.”

Now Ming Ming’s breaks included playing with the lamb. She even kept a journal she called The Survival Log of a Baby Sheep.

One day, when Junsheng came home, Ming Ming was sitting in front of the lamb feeding it grass. A little brazier burned by her side as she muttered to herself.

“You’re really lighting a fire in this heat?” He walked over and snuffed it out.

“You don’t get it. This is just simulated roasting. Someday it’ll have the materials in its belly, and only then will it undergo the most important moment of its life—‘Lamb Roast.’”

She offered it another handful of grass. “Here, eat more.”

The lamb happily munched.

Junsheng: “…”

In the first year the college entrance exam returned, nearly six million people registered, but fewer than 300,000 got in. Even with decades of future knowledge, Ming Ming didn’t dare assume she’d be better than the youth of that era.

So she boldly put all three applications into Beicheng’s top universities, all in computer science.

Her old field felt safest.

And the prospects? Absolutely enormous.

Yan Junsheng brimmed with confidence. “Our Juan’er is guaranteed to get in!”

Ming Ming: Yeah, sure. Dream on.

But damn if his big mouth wasn’t blessed—when results came out, Ming Ming got accepted to her first-choice school.

The whole family sent her off with joy.

Even though it was close to home, commuting daily was tough. Junsheng told her not to worry about the family, just come home on weekends.

“Of course, if you miss me too much, you can come back anytime. I’ll always be waiting.”

On registration day, Ming Ming pouted, reluctant. “My baby…”

But once she stepped onto campus, she was free at last.

College life without a part-time job!

Too. Freaking. Awesome!!!

Ahhhhhhhhhh it was so damn good!!!!

She practically forgot she had a husband, a home, and a child.

Half a month into the semester, after inventing excuse after excuse like “She’s busy settling in,” and “Studies come first,” and “She’ll come home when she has time,” Junsheng finally lost his patience. He carried the baby to campus to squat at the gate and wait for his wife.

Ming Ming: Hmm? That hot guy with the baby looks familiar.

Ming Ming: Wait… is that my husband?

Ming Ming: !!!

Junsheng told the baby, “Chen Beixin, call your mom.”

“Ma-ma!”

Ming Ming’s heart melted. She clutched her chest, crying theatrically. “Baby, don’t listen to your dad. Your name is Chen Yunshu!”

Junsheng cut in coldly: “Too late. She already knows her name is Chen Beixin.”

He snorted. “That’s what you get for not coming home!”

Ming Ming gave him a withering look.

If the mountain won’t come to me, I’ll go to the mountain.

From then on, Junsheng stubbornly showed up on campus every day with the baby to mooch meals—half to remind Ming Ming she had a family, half to stake his claim, warding off toads eyeing his swan.

Yan’s parents were thrilled.

While Ming Ming was off being an absent college student, they often pulled Junsheng aside to nag: