In early December, Wei Zijin gave birth naturally.
It was a boy, weighing three point four kilograms. Mother and son were both safe.
Wang Keqin and his wife had handed the shop over to the manager twenty days in advance and flown to Jiangcheng. They had spent these days going around buying clothes and supplies for the baby.
Wang Keqin stood by the crib for a long while, then reached out and touched the baby's cheek.
"He looks like his mother."
Wei Zijin leaned against the headboard, her hair loosely tied back. She was still a little pale, but in good spirits.
"Dad, why don't you give him a name?" Wei Zijin had heard from Wang Xiaoliang that, by Xicheng custom, naming the child was the paternal grandfather's right.
Wang Keqin had come prepared. He took a sheet of paper from his pocket and handed it to Wang Xiaoliang.
Wang Xiaoliang read it and nodded. "What a wonderful name."
Then he unfolded it in front of Wei Zijin, who saw three characters:
Wei Nianzu.
Wei Zijin's tears spilled over.
"Sweetheart, don't cry. You mustn't cry right now. Be good." Zhao Xiuqin hurried to soothe her.
Then Wei Zijin laughed.
"Mom, tell Dad off. I haven't even finished my postpartum month, and he's already pushing us to have a second baby."
"That is part of the idea." Zhao Xiuqin laughed too. The old couple had settled on this name long ago. If the first child's surname was Wei, then surely they ought to have one named Wang too.
Wang Xiaoliang bent over to play with the baby, not even looking up. "Of course. My wife is so beautiful, it'd be a shame not to have a daughter who looks like her."
"Why are you pushing me too?"
"I just love babies