Work wasn't an issue either, with the timing just right. She had always been in good health and could persist until the project wrapped up before taking maternity leave. Colombia had comprehensive commercial insurance, and Miao Jing herself had a Plan Especial, allowing her to go to the best private hospital in Bogotá.
As for after the baby was born...
The pregnancy wasn't widely announced at first. Si Nan was the first to know, and later the news spread throughout the office. Everyone threw Miao Jing a surprise party and gifted her a set of baby supplies.
Chen Yi stiffly picked up a tiny baby outfit—no bigger than his palm—and little socks that could only fit over his fingers. Having hardly ever seen a newborn, he couldn't help but imagine the baby's size to be about that of a kitten.
Their resolve to become parents hadn't solidified for long before Miao Jing's early pregnancy symptoms hit.
Drowsiness, nausea, and vomiting plagued her. Miao Jing survived on plain congee, simple dishes, and soda crackers for a time. She detested the smells of food, perfume, gasoline, car exhaust, and any other strong odors. Even her once-beloved scented candles were banished to oblivion. And... whenever Chen Yi entered her olfactory range, Miao Jing would suppress her inner revulsion, lightly furrow her delicate brows, poke him away with a finger, and lament, "Stay away from me!"
Chen Yi was utterly bewildered and on the verge of losing it: "What the hell? I'm taking eight showers a day now, practically marinated in soap, and you're even disgusted by my scent?"
Miao Jing shot him a sharp glare with her beautiful eyes: "Try saying another curse word, I dare you?"
He was so aggrieved he could hardly stand it, slumping his shoulders and planting his hands on his hips. His long legs swung resentfully as he plopped heavily into the sofa. He wanted to smoke but had no cigarettes, so he snatched a bag of Brazilian pine nuts from the coffee table and cracked them open for her, one by one.
To be honest, he had already quit smoking for a while, and the tobacco scent on him had faded. Combined with his usual cleanliness and dedication to fitness, Miao Jing could only detect the natural scent of his skin when she hugged him—not unpleasant, just the mature aura of an adult man. In other words, the smell of male hormones?
She used to love Chen Yi's scent, always nuzzling into his neck to breathe it in. But now, her sense of smell had become as sharp as a psychic's. He had to stay at least 1.5 meters away from her. Intimacy was completely out of the question; even kissing, hugging, or touching had become mere fantasies.
The baby in her womb forbade him from sharing the same bed with Miao Jing. These days, Chen Yi could only sleep on the floor with a pillow, curled up and gazing wistfully at Miao Jing sleeping peacefully and sweetly in bed.
After getting used to a life of indulgence, he was now living in utter austerity. Every morning, Chen Yi washed his underwear with the dejection of a stray dog, feeling utterly devoid of life's brilliance.
There were tender moments too. When Miao Jing fell asleep, Chen Yi would sneak into bed, lift her nightgown, and caress her still-flat belly. He'd poke and tap it with his fingers, pleading with the little angel to go easy on them. It was their first time becoming parents in a foreign land, and he hoped for a smooth, safe journey without too much drama.
In his heart, he muttered: Revenge is a dish best served cold. If it's a boy, I'll at least give him a spanking after he's born to vent my frustration. If it's a girl, she'll be the one sleeping on the floor in the future.His gaze returned to that serene and delicate sleeping face. She seemed to have lost weight—her face appeared even smaller and paler, her lips lightly tinted, and her soft, fluffy eyelashes distinct and delicate, looking both fragile and resilient. He quietly leaned closer, hesitating whether to plant a gentle kiss on her cheek or forehead.
The petite figure in her sleep fluttered her lashes lightly, not opening her eyes, but a smile curled at the corner of her lips. Her voice, weary and carrying a lingering tone, murmured, "I'm holding my breath, giving you ten seconds to get close to me."
Chen Yi grinned, swiftly pulling her into his embrace, his hands roaming freely while his lips busily peppered kisses from Miao Jing’s forehead down to her cheeks and chin. With a swift final flip, he completed the ten-second maneuver in one fluid motion and lay back on the floor.
Miao Jing slowly exhaled, watching his figure dart out from the bed curtains, feeling both amused and a tinge of melancholy.
With no one at home to care for them, Chen Yi hired a housekeeper to handle the chores during the day. She was a relative of Gino’s family, named Megis, a woman in her forties who was already a grandmother. Megis cooked delicious Colombian dishes, and Miao Jing taught her to prepare simple Chinese meals like plain congee and clay pot chicken soup. These two dishes helped her get through the early stages of her pregnancy.
Since he had to provide for the family, Chen Yi became more dedicated to his work—at least enough to support the child on the way. During that period, he began taking on larger orders, ranging from tens of thousands to over a hundred thousand dollars. Of course, this meant he was busier, but making money wasn’t an issue. He still frequented the billiards hall, which, in fact, was an excellent place for business discussions. Both billiards and business involved an element of gambling, and Chen Yi had always been precise in his approach—able to read people, stay composed, and think clearly.
After the early pregnancy passed smoothly, Miao Jing’s morning sickness suddenly vanished overnight. Her energy returned, and her spirits lifted as her belly began to swell slightly.
Chen Yi finally emerged from the "torture" of being able to look but not touch, invigorated as he returned to sleeping in the bed, filled with the joy of regaining what he’d missed. With the prenatal check-ups all going well and the doctor approving moderate sexual activity, a gleam ignited in his dark eyes, and he shot Miao Jing a meaningful look that needed no words.
However, Miao Jing had entered a psychologically sensitive phase, becoming sentimental and extremely clingy.
Her taste preferences shifted toward sour and spicy flavors. She no longer enjoyed the hamburgers and fries from work lunches, craving instead dishes like sauerkraut fish, spicy chicken pot, and scrambled eggs with tomatoes. They tried nearly every Chinese restaurant in Bogotá, and for a long time afterward, she persistently asked for Thai food. They found an Asian restaurant in Bogotá run by a Burmese owner who could prepare Thai, Vietnamese, and Burmese cuisine. The two of them went there twice a week. Near the restaurant was a kindergarten, and every time they passed by, Miao Jing would gaze softly at the adorable mixed-race children, unable to tear her eyes away. She’d stand watching for a while, her eyes gradually welling up with tears, saying it reminded her of her grandmother.
Miao Jing also couldn’t bear to watch any emotionally stirring scenes, not even in photos or on TV. During that time, she often felt a stifling discomfort in her heart, an indescribable lump in her throat. Only when Chen Yi held her could she feel a bit at ease. She’d suddenly recall some long-forgotten detail or think of her distant hometown—no, she wasn’t even sure where her hometown was anymore.
Chen Yi gently wiped the slightly damp corner of her eye, her glass-like orbs shimmering with unshed tears, and softly called her his good baby, his dear little sister.
"Do you love me?" she asked, her clear eyes fixed on him. "Chen Yi, do you love me?"
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