Chapter 26 The Widower is Pregnant???

Chapter 26: The Widower Is Pregnant???

Lei Ding did not return until late that evening. Lei Li and Wu Qiu waited together in the front hall, watching the fiery red sunset fade into dusk. Only then did Lei Ding finally step inside. Wu Qiu hurried over, took the bundle from his hands, and asked, “How did it go? Why are you back so late?”

Lei Ding smiled. “On my way home, I stopped by the pharmacy to pick up some medicine—that’s why I’m late. Everything went fairly smoothly. I’ll tell you the details shortly. Have you eaten yet?”

Wu Qiu replied, “Yes—we all had dinner together. Lord Lei insisted we eat first, then we asked him to rest for a while. We saved some food for you. Mrs. Liu is in the courtyard; I’ll go ask her to warm it up.”

He turned to leave—then paused, noticing Lei Li standing quietly to the side, head bowed, too nervous to approach, fearing Lei Ding’s anger over the injury he’d inflicted on Lei Xun. Wu Qiu understood his anxiety and gave Lei Ding a meaningful glance, whispering softly, “Go talk to him.”

He knew Lei Ding would never blame his younger brother—so he felt no worry about conflict between them. With that, he hurried off to find Mrs. Liu. Seeing him go, Lei Li grew even more uneasy. Lei Ding, too, noticed his discomfort and stepped forward first, ruffling his hair. “Yue Er, help me spread these herbs out on the winnowing basket to dry. I’ll change clothes and come back to tidy up later.”

His tone and manner were perfectly ordinary—as if nothing at all had happened that day. Though no words of comfort were spoken, for Lei Li, it was enough.

During dinner, Yang Shu and Mrs. Liu joined them, and Lei Xun emerged from his room to ask how things had gone. It turned out Zhang Cheng *had* bribed officials—but unwilling to spend heavily on the prefect, he’d paid only one hundred taels of silver to a clerk. That clerk wielded some influence and initially tried to obstruct Lei Ding’s defense. Yet the Lei family had contributed significantly during the flood disaster—not only donating much of their personal savings to aid victims but also playing a vital role in preventing epidemic outbreaks, maintaining frequent contact with authorities. Thus, Zhang Cheng held no legal advantage—and no personal leverage either. The clerk accepted his money but refused to go all-out on his behalf.

Finally, Lei Ding produced something Lei Xun had given him before he left. Nine years earlier, Wen Niang—fearing precisely such a situation—had asked a literate neighbor to draft a brief letter while she still had strength to speak. It stated clearly that Zhang Cheng had abandoned his wife and children without trace, causing the family’s ruin—and that, should the adoptive parents ever object in the future, the children must *never* be returned to him, given his prior desertion.

She’d sewn the letter into the lining of two-year-old Lei Tan’s undergarment. If the child found caring adoptive parents, they’d surely discover it while changing his clothes—and keep it safe. On the very first day Cui Nanshan brought the children home, he found it while bathing them. Since then, it had been stored carefully in his small cabinet for valuables.

At the time, none imagined Zhang Cheng would ever return. They simply regarded it as the sole written testament left by Wen Niang—their birth mother—and preserved it reverently. Unexpectedly, today’s crisis arose. In court, Lei Ding presented the letter alongside Lei Li’s and Lei Tan’s household registrations, refusing outright to yield or allow Zhang Cheng to take the children.

In truth, Wen Niang was far from foolish. Perhaps she’d long seen through Zhang Cheng’s true nature—but remained bound by love for her children. Only on her deathbed did she finally stop deceiving herself.

The yamen summoned several former neighbors who’d lived near Wen Niang’s home. All testified unanimously, describing her wretched existence. Zhang Cheng had vanished without word—everyone assumed he’d died far away. Now, seeing him suddenly reappear to claim the children, they instantly grasped the truth. Though too timid to shout in court, they glared at him furiously, inwardly cursing his heartless ingratitude.

With both witnesses and physical evidence firmly in place—and fearing public backlash—especially amid the raging epidemic, when the Lei family’s continued assistance remained indispensable—the prefect decided to punish Zhang Cheng. Ultimately, the one hundred taels of silver proved useful: the clerk stepped forward to intercede, and Zhang Cheng was ordered merely to compensate the Lei family with a sum of silver—and to leave Yongning City within three days.

Thus, the case ended hastily.

Lei Ding remained unaware that Zhang Cheng had bribed the clerk in advance—and omitted this detail when recounting events. Hearing the story, Yang Shu and Mrs. Liu still felt dissatisfied, sighing in unison: “Such a vile man—how could he escape so lightly?”

Lei Li, too, sat sulking silently to the side, his small face bitter with discontent.

Lei Xun patted his shoulder and shook his head. “I suspect unsavory dealings occurred behind the scenes—beyond what could be openly opposed. But now that the authorities have rendered a formal, lawful verdict before everyone, I doubt anyone will dare question in the future whether Yue Er and Tan Er belong to our Lei family.”

Lei Li was deeply moved. He’d cried so much that day—he had no tears left. His lips trembled for a long time, eyes reddening but remaining dry. Choking up, he wanted to declare he’d *always* be a son of the Lei family—but no words came out.

After Lei Ding finished eating, everyone dispersed. Lei Xun and Lei Li each retreated to their rooms to rest. Though clever, Lei Tan was still young and easily reassured. Yet today’s commotion outside—and Lei Xun’s injured hand—would be hard to conceal from Cui Nanshan. Returning to his room, Lei Xun was nearly at a loss. Meanwhile, Wu Qiu and Mrs. Liu went to Yang Shu’s room, where the three chatted awhile longer, sipped tea, enjoyed light snacks, and then retired for the night.

Lei Ding remained alone in the front hall. The herbs he’d asked Lei Li to help spread earlier still needed careful sorting.

As he worked, he heard faint, hesitant footsteps approaching from behind—barely audible. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, though he feigned ignorance, head bent low over his herbs. The footsteps drew nearer—closer—until stopping directly behind him. Then, suddenly, someone leapt onto his back.

Lei Ding turned his head. Wu Qiu tilted his own, eyes crinkled in a grin as he gazed up. Lei Ding played along. “When did you get here? I didn’t notice—I was startled.”

Wu Qiu beamed, hooking his arms around Lei Ding’s neck, pressing close and nuzzling his face against him. “What are you busy with, Brother? Should I help?”

Lei Ding laughed. “Just tidying these herbs—nothing much. Qiu Er, go rest in your room first. I’ll join you soon.”

Wu Qiu refused, shaking his head as he slid down and moved to the side to watch. “I just had a few snacks—I’m not in any hurry yet. Standing outside a bit helps digestion, too.”

Lei Ding kissed his lips. “I’ll prepare some soup to aid digestion. Don’t let food stagnate and generate internal heat—if a cold wind hits then, with internal heat plus external exposure, you might fall ill.”

It was already late in the seventh lunar month. The night breeze was cool, no longer scorching as in daytime. Wu Qiu leaned deeper into Lei Ding’s embrace, nuzzling his nose against him, inhaling the scent that always calmed him. “No need—I only ate a little. I don’t feel stuffed at all.”

He took one of Lei Ding’s hands and placed it gently on his stomach, teasing with a smile. “Don’t believe me? Then check for yourself?”

At last, the chaos of the past few days had subsided. Zhao Wen and Zhao Wu were exiled to the frontier; Zhang Cheng’s matter resolved; Cui Nanshan’s illness improving, gradually receding from danger. Lei Ding’s heart felt lighter. Seeing Wu Qiu coaxing him to play, he indulged him—sliding an arm around his waist, pressing him gently against the nearby wall, and kissing him back.

The moment Lei Ding released him, Wu Qiu’s body went slack, beginning to slide downward. Lei Ding chuckled, catching him securely in his arms. Wu Qiu’s lips were deep red, his cheeks and ears flushed alike. Out of the corner of his eye, Lei Ding saw him secretly touch his own lips—a sight that softened his heart even further.

They’d been intimate only once—on the night they signed the marriage document. Perhaps because Lei Ding’s movements had been so tender, Wu Qiu felt little discomfort—only beautiful memories remained. Now, he felt stirred again. Yet he’d been utterly exhausted these past days—his body truly spent. Hesitating, he blushed and looked at Lei Ding, silent.

Lei Ding pinched his cheek. “What’s wrong?”

How could Wu Qiu voice such thoughts aloud? His eyes shimmered, darting restlessly for a long time before he finally whispered into Lei Ding’s ear, “I just… feel it’s a bit of a pity. I’ve been too tired these past few days…”

He watched Lei Ding’s hand lift toward his wrist—to check his pulse—and inwardly fumed that Lei Ding still didn’t grasp his meaning. He stomped his foot and pressed down on Lei Ding’s wrist. “I’m *not* sick! I’m just exhausted. I mean… I *meant* to…”

He couldn’t finish—pulled away in frustration, straightening up on his own. “You finish up here. I’m going back to my room first.”

Lei Ding burst into laughter. Fearing he’d truly upset him, he quickly pulled him back, soothing him. “Alright, alright, Qiu Er—don’t be angry. These past few days *have* been hectic. If we fool around at night too, it really *would* become ‘From then on, the sovereign neglected his morning court.’ I miss you too. Once this busy stretch passes, I’ll make it up to you—double, how’s that?”

Wu Qiu punched his shoulder twice. “How improper can you *be*!”

Lei Ding raised an eyebrow. “Did I misunderstand?”

Wu Qiu buried his face in Lei Ding’s chest, turning away so he couldn’t be seen.

Though Lei Ding spoke lightly, he also knew Wu Qiu’s constitution was naturally frail—and that he’d been thoroughly worn down these past days. Hadn’t Cui Nanshan fallen gravely ill precisely from overexertion after catching a slight chill? So he dared not push him further. For over twenty days, he’d restrained himself. Though he occasionally slipped into Wu Qiu’s room to sleep, he only held and kissed him—nothing more.

The weather gradually cooled. After lunch, no one rushed back to their rooms to escape the heat. Instead, they set up a tea table in the courtyard and gathered to drink tea and chat. Cui Nanshan wore a thick robe. Lei Xun sat beside him, holding one of his hands to check if he felt cold. Yang Shu and Mrs. Liu sat nearby, the group relaxed and conversing. Noticing none of the small tea snacks on the table were Wu Qiu’s favorites, Lei Ding rose and went to the kitchen to search for some. Lei Tan bounced restlessly, pestering Lei Li to play. Wu Qiu sat nearby, smiling as he watched.

It had been over a month since they’d enjoyed such harmony and joy. Wu Qiu propped his cheek on one hand, watching the children play, feeling drowsy—yet reluctant to leave immediately. He wanted to stay a little longer, sitting among them all.

Seeing Lei Tan act like a monkey, Lei Xun seized his chance and tapped him lightly on the head. “Everyone’s sitting properly and talking. You should behave too. If you truly have nothing else to do, go read your medical texts. Don’t let it happen that when a patient comes later, you can’t even take a pulse—or ask basic questions.”

Lei Tan wasn’t afraid of him—and knew he wasn’t being chased away. He planted his hands on his hips and lifted his little face. “Dad, don’t underestimate my medical skills! I study diligently every day. Soon I’ll be a famous doctor—renowned throughout Yongning City!”

Lei Xun and Cui Nanshan both laughed. Even Yang Shu and Mrs. Liu smiled. Lei Tan frowned. “What?! You don’t believe me?”

Wu Qiu soothed him with a gentle smile. “How *dare* we disbelieve? Of course everyone believes you.”

Lei Tan exclaimed, “Brother Qiu clearly *doesn’t* believe me—you’ve been laughing the whole time! Fine—I’ll prove my skills to you. Come, come, Brother Qiu—let me take your pulse!”

Wu Qiu quickly suppressed his laughter, adopting a solemn expression as he offered his wrist. Lei Tan shook his head vigorously, taking the pulse for a long while—until his eyes slowly widened in disbelief.

He looked up at Wu Qiu, stunned, and blurted, “Brother Qiu—are you *pregnant*?”

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Author’s Note:

[1] Quote from Bai Juyi’s *Song of Everlasting Sorrow*.

Actually, while writing the earlier part, I felt it was quite tragic. The Lei family was wholly in the right—having done nothing wrong—yet to counter Zhang Cheng’s bribery, they still had to rely on personal connections… Hmm… After writing 100,000 words of dumpling, we finally have the vinegar.