Batter My Heart,Mr Xi (Book 2)

Chapter XXXV

The apartment was quiet except for the soft, rhythmic breathing of the sleeping infant.

Fu Shiyun sat curled on the sofa, her long hair falling loose around her shoulders as she gazed down at the tiny bundle cradled in her arms. The baby—wrapped in a pale yellow blanket that made his skin look impossibly delicate—slept with the absolute surrender only newborns possessed. Tiny fingers curled against his chest, impossibly small, impossibly perfect.

Fu Shiyun found herself smiling without meaning to.

She'd been terrified when the baby was born three weeks ago. Terrified of the pain, terrified of the responsibility, terrified that maybe Cheng Yi would look at their child and see only the reminder of what she'd done to him.

But when she had placed their baby in Cheng Yi's arms for the first time, she'd seen something shift in his expression. Something soft, something that looked almost like wonder.

The baby stirred slightly, making a small sound, and Fu Shiyun instinctively adjusted her hold, rocking gently. The motion was becoming natural now, muscle memory building after a weeks of constant care. She was exhausted—the kind of bone-deep tiredness that came from being woken every two hours for feeding—but she didn't mind. This was her choice. Her consequence. Her blessing.

The sound of keys in the lock made her look up.

Cheng Yi pushed through the door, still wearing his white coat over his clothes, his medical bag slung over one shoulder. His hair was slightly disheveled, and his glasses—thin, silver-rimmed frames that made him look both younger and more serious—had slipped down his nose. He looked exhausted from a double shift at the hospital, but his eyes immediately found the baby.

"I'm back," he said quietly, setting down his bag and shrugging off his coat.

"Welcome home," Fu Shiyun replied, her voice just as soft. They'd fallen into this pattern—speaking in near-whispers when the baby was sleeping, as if the entire world needed to pause for this small, precious life.

Cheng Yi crossed to the sofa, and Fu Shiyun carefully transferred the baby into his arms. He received their child with the practiced gentleness of someone who'd spent three weeks learning every detail of how to hold, support, protect this fragile new person.

"Look what I found," he murmured, reaching into his coat pocket with his free hand. He pulled out a small knitted hat—soft white yarn with tiny ear flaps and delicate stitching. "One of the nurses at the hospital makes them. I thought..."

He trailed off, but Fu Shiyun understood. The hat was adorable, practical, and showed he'd been thinking about their baby even during his grueling residency shifts.

"It's perfect," she said, and meant it.

Cheng Yi carefully placed the hat on the baby's head, adjusting it with infinite care. The tiny ear flaps framed their sleeping face, and Fu Shiyun felt her heart clench with something that might have been happiness.

She leaned against Cheng Yi's shoulder without thinking, drawn by the magnetic pull of watching him with their child.

"Everything okay?" Cheng Yi asked, his eyes still on the baby's face.

"Yes," Fu Shiyun replied, running through the mental checklist she'd developed recently after giving birth. "Fed at one-thirty, changed at three, slept for almost two hours straight this time. No crying fits today, which was nice."

"No," Cheng Yi said quietly. "I meant with you. Are you okay?"

Fu Shiyun's breath caught. She turned to look at him, but his gaze remained fixed on their baby.