"Hey, did you guys hear? The person who was spreading rumors at school got caught by the administration, and they even gave them a warning for disrupting the unity among students.
They’ve been marked with a major derit, a lifelong stain, really. Seems like they were from the Spanish Language Departnt."
On this day, under a clear sky, a student from the Arabic Language Departnt jogged into the room and stood at the podium, eagerly sharing the gossip with everyone.
The school forum had the story pinned to the top long ago.
A student opened up the school forum and placed the highly trending news in front of Yuran.
"Thinking about it, she must be the one spreading rumors about you, right? Do sothing bad and you better be ready to face the consequences—karma cos so swiftly."
"Exactly, that’s just awful. Yuran, don’t take it to heart. Even if quite a few people know about your pregnancy now, without any evidence, who can definitively say you’re pregnant?"
It’s not that no one ca to confirm, but those who tried were driven off by students from the Arabic Language Departnt.
What are you looking at? Haven’t you ever seen such solidarity in the Arabic Language Departnt before?
So even though the rumors were flying all over the school, without undeniable proof, no one dared to speak carelessly.
The punishnt notice pinned to the bulletin board, with its red paper and black letters, spelled it out clearly.
Who would dare touch that third rail?
Are they missing a few brain cells?
If they’re not lacking wits, who would dare rush into the line of fire?
It’s not like they’re idiots.
And this person who was punished was the sa one who was spreading those rumors, though it wasn’t all made up, there was definitely inappropriate speech involved.
It served as a wake-up call for everyone. It’s not easy to get into Diwai, cherish it while you can. If you get a blemish on your record, even your post-graduate future could be in jeopardy, so better to take care of your own feathers and not stick your nose into others’ business.
Listening to the discussions, Yuran’s eyes sparkled with speculation, and she knew she needed to ask at ho.
However, she didn’t really think Bo Yan was behind it—if everyone had the capacity to protect themselves and still played the saint, then what would be the aning of living? Like she once was.
Hadn’t her excessive soft-heartedness led to her own downfall?
...
The first sester of sophomore year ended with the sumr vacation arriving after the last subject’s exam.
On the day of the last exam, the classmates from the Arabic Language Departnt whom Yuran had been treating to pastries for the past month were all filled with reluctance to part.
A girl spoke frankly, "Yuran, you’re our little angel. This past month, because of you, we experienced what it ans to be wealthy and capricious."
They had probably spent close to five or six hundred thousand of Yuran’s money this month alone, not counting those two tis they ate at Fuyunfang.
Money is sothing you can’t afford to count too closely.
Everyone still had a conscience, though, and kept it in their hearts. Yuran watched everyone with amusent, "Consider it repaynt for taking care of , and when you all succeed in your careers, just don’t forget about ."
"How could we ever forget you? You have to bring your child to thank each of us in person."
Yuran couldn’t help but laugh and cry, "You still rember that?"
"Of course we can’t forget."
They were too curious to see what Yuran’s child would look like.
When one day, everyone realized that the child they were thanking had such a pink and tender face, resembling a certain deity, they were puzzled. But when they eventually found out who fathered the child with Yuran,
their hearts were unsettled for a long ti.
But that’s a story for later.
Yuran officially went on maternity leave, staying at ho peacefully waiting for the birth. As the due date approached, she grew more anxious. Day by day, as ti passed, she beca restless.
On the very first day, Bo Yan noticed it. After putting Yuran to sleep at night, he discussed the matter with his mother. Bo Yan’s mother, having experience, educated him on the matter. Bo Yan frowned, "Do we need to hire a psychologist to counsel the baby?"
"The baby isn’t sick, why do we need a family doctor?" Bo Yan’s mother replied angrily, punching him. "You just need to coddle her and attend to her every need, to give her whatever she wants, and shower her with sweet nothings. Can’t you do that, or is it that you don’t know how to flirt with a young miss?
If you don’t know how, then learn. It doesn’t matter from whom, just go and learn until you can cheer her up.
Once she is happy, her mood will naturally relax, and her irritability will pass. So, the problem is with you."
Bo Yan’s eyebrows knitted tighter. When he returned to the bedroom and saw Yuran’s swollen belly, his heart quivered with worry.
At night, when he held Yuran in his arms while sleeping, he could feel the tension from her belly pressing against him, afraid that any carelessness might bump into her and cause discomfort.
Sleeping in separate rooms was absolutely out of the question.
Not to ntion his worry, he simply couldn’t sleep without seeing Yuran.
The closer Yuran’s due date ca, the harder it was for him to fall asleep. Despite the heavy ntal pressure, he read books over and over, data reassuring him that in today’s advanced science and technology, the risks of childbirth are relatively low.
Yet he still clearly rembered a saying: It’s like walking through Ghost Gate.
How could he bear that?
It wasn’t just Yuran who was restless and anxious.
His stress was no less than Yuran’s, but compared to her, he suffered little and dared not take any credit.
Tossing and turning throughout the night, as the sky began to lighten, Yuran woke and saw Bo Yan with open eyes, staring at the ceiling. She reached out to hold his hand.
"Bo Yan."
"Awake?" His voice was hoarse, his eyes bloodshot, a clear sign of lack of sleep. She grew concerned, "You didn’t sleep!"
Bo Yan reached out, carefully avoiding her belly, and embraced her in his arms, "I can’t sleep. I’m worried you might feel uncomfortable, and if I slept through, I wouldn’t be able to notice in ti."
Yuran felt a twinge of sorrow, "I’m sorry, Bo Yan."
Bo Yan let out a laugh, kissing her forehead, "Why are you apologizing to ?"
Yuran listed her grievances over the past few days, "These past days, I’ve been sowhat capricious. You’ve already done so well, yet I kept giving you trouble, making things difficult for you.
You don’t have to pay attention to ."
Bo Yan placed a hand over her lips, "Baby, I don’t like such words. I’m happy when you take your anger out on , when you find uncomfortable;
You’re in a bad mood and under a lot of stress, I know that. You don’t have to bla yourself. I already feel useless for not being able to help you much;
Don’t deprive of my right to be your punching bag, okay?"
Yuran was amused by him, her palm gently caressing his face, "I’m just a little scared lately. I feel my belly getting heavier, and then I feel upset, the emotions co inexplicably. I’m not..."
"Shh... I know, baby, I know. Let’s not talk about this anymore, okay?"
Yuran knew he just didn’t want her to dwell on self-reproach. She nestled her face softly into Bo Yan’s chest, fiddling with a button on his pajamas, "How about you close your eyes and sleep a bit, okay?"
"Baby, I really can’t sleep."
"Can’t you sleep even if I stay with you?" Yuran looked up, her round, limpid eyes unblinkingly fixed on him, insistent on staying awake with him if he refused to sleep.
Bo Yan capitulated, closing his eyes in response to her gaze, "Then rember to call if you feel uncomfortable. I’m worried I might fall asleep."
"Okay."
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