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"I didn't know whether you would like this child, whether you could accept him, so I didn't dare tell you to your face. If you still can't accept suddenly having a child, then turn off this formation. Tomorrow, place this rattle drum in my courtyard, and I'll understand what you mean. I'll take the child and leave the Sword Sect. From then on, I won't appear before you with the child again, and he will never know who his father is."

Song Zhizhi's voice paused for several breaths before sounding again, this time carrying a faintly relieved smile. "Looks like you chose the second option?"

"Fine, Xie Xiuji, I'll tell you the truth. Our child seems to have inherited both our spiritual roots and talent. My cultivation is too low to support him for now. For him to be born safely, his father needs to feed him spiritual power every day. If it weren't for this, perhaps I wouldn't have confessed to you..."

As Sword Venerable Mingxiao listened to Song Zhizhi recount the turmoil she had gone through these past days—her hesitation, her decision—her voice carried a smile, yet through that voice, he seemed to see the bewildered, helpless Song Zhizhi who had suddenly learned she was pregnant, struggling all alone. His chest ached in waves.

Thinking back on their time together these past few days, there had been signs of Song Zhizhi's pregnancy. Though she was a cultivator, she acted as if she could never get enough sleep every day. Whenever she practiced swordsmanship, she would unconsciously protect her stomach. Her spiritual power was not as abundant as that of cultivators at her level...

He had simply been too careless. He had noticed something was wrong but never thought deeply about it. He could have discovered it sooner. If he had, Song Zhizhi would not have had to face this alone.

The shock Sword Venerable Mingxiao had felt upon learning of Song Zhizhi's pregnancy was swallowed by overwhelming guilt and self-reproach. Holding the rattle drum, he came to the small building where Song Zhizhi lived on Clear Snow Peak. It was already deep into the night, and the lights inside had gone out. He stood in the courtyard, listening to Song Zhizhi's long, even breathing as she slept in the bedroom separated from him by a single wall.

Song Zhizhi had thought that after confessing everything to Xie Xiuji, she would suffer from insomnia that night. Yet she had still underestimated the quality of sleep after becoming pregnant. She lay in bed thinking about Xie Xiuji for only a short while before gradually falling asleep.

Perhaps because she had finally told Xie Xiuji about the child, she slept exceptionally well. When she woke, it was already close to noon. Sunlight blazed outside the window, and Song Zhizhi stretched lazily, calculating the time. The formation she had left on the rattle drum had taken effect last night. Xie Xiuji should know by now.

What would he choose? Would he send the rattle drum back and pretend nothing had happened? Or...

Song Zhizhi washed her face, changed into a new pale-yellow dress, and carefully arranged a new hairstyle before finally opening the door.

A tall figure in white stood before her door. Fresh air poured into the small building from outside, carrying a faint, cool fragrance. Seeing him, Song Zhizhi was not surprised at all—she had always known that Xie Xiuji was not the sort of man who lacked responsibility or feared taking it. Rather, it was she who had kept running away, afraid that Xie Xiuji would bring her trouble in the future.

Xie Xiuji carried the scent of dew, and she did not know how long he had been standing outside. Song Zhizhi opened the door to let him in, without asking what his decision was. Xie Xiuji was already standing here; his choice was obvious.

Song Zhizhi touched her stomach and formally said to Xie Xiuji, "Sorry for the trouble until this child is born."

Xie Xiuji's gaze fell on Song Zhizhi's face, then on her flat stomach. After a long while, he shook his head. "This is my child too. I bear responsibility for his existence. I was willing back then, so you don't need to apologize to me."

"What do I need to do?" he asked.

Recalling Liu Changfei's words, Song Zhizhi took Xie Xiuji's hand and placed it on her lower abdomen.

Xie Xiuji felt the flat, soft sensation beneath his palm and was slightly surprised.

Only upon seeing the surprise on Xie Xiuji's face did Song Zhizhi realize that what she had just done seemed rather bold. She gave a light cough and said somewhat awkwardly, "Feifei said that this child needs a great deal of spiritual power to develop. My spiritual power alone isn't enough. You only need to transfer some spiritual power to me every day to ensure the child develops normally."

Xie Xiuji's palm rested against Song Zhizhi's lower abdomen. After a moment of silence, he asked, "Must my hand be pressed against your stomach to transfer spiritual power to the child?"

"Hm?" Song Zhizhi did not understand what he meant.

Xie Xiuji's expression was complicated. Song Zhizhi saw that the tips of his ears seemed to have turned pink as he said, "To transfer spiritual power to another person, skin must touch skin."

Song Zhizhi:?

What touch?

Skin what?

She lowered her head and glanced at Xie Xiuji's hand. If he was going to transfer spiritual power by placing his hand on her stomach, then Xie Xiuji would first have to reach his hand inside...

Song Zhizhi recalled some rather unhealthy images, and her face flushed crimson. Pretending nothing had happened, she stood up and took out her communication stone. "This... I'm not sure either. I'll ask Feifei."

Several breaths later, Liu Changfei's vigorous voice rang out from the communication stone. "To transfer spiritual power to the child, of course you need to press it against the stomach. Transferring it from elsewhere will be nearly half as effective. You two have already made a child together—haven't you seen and touched everything there is to see and touch? What are you being shy about?"

"My morning class is starting, so I won't say more."

Liu Changfei cut off the transmission cleanly. Holding the communication stone, Song Zhizhi turned and glanced at Xie Xiuji. The man's expression was perfectly normal as he looked at her and said, "If you find it difficult, then I can transfer spiritual power to you elsewhere. It will merely consume more spiritual power. It doesn't matter."

Song Zhizhi rubbed the tips of her burning ears. "Forget it. If it's against my stomach, then it's against my stomach." Feifei was right. It was not as if he had never touched her before. That night, he had not only touched her, but kissed her too...

Song Zhizhi's ears grew even redder, and her lower abdomen seemed to faintly heat up. She glanced at Xie Xiuji's long fingers, coughed several times, and said vaguely, "I... I'll change clothes first."

The pale-yellow dress she was currently wearing was beautiful, but it would not be convenient if Xie Xiuji needed to transfer spiritual power. She would have to take off her outer robe first, but she was afraid of heat, and beneath it she wore only a close-fitting garment.

Rankings

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Transmigrated into a Book

Sweet Romance

Transmigration and Rebirth Romance

Tu Yanyan

Amnesia Trope