Liu Xiaoli had been wheeled into the delivery room half an hour ago.
Chen Fusheng had been pacing anxiously outside the door for half an hour.
Before this, he’d always thought the scenes in TV dramas were exaggerated.
Now, experiencing it firsthand, he found that every single second was agonizing. He couldn’t calm down at all.
Perhaps it was because, across two lifetimes, this was the first time he was going to be a father.
“Fusheng, come sit down for a bit. Stop pacing.”
Chen Fusheng turned to his concerned family. Just as he was about to sit down and take a sip of water, the delivery room fell silent for about ten seconds. Then came the clear, ringing cry of a newborn.
He hadn’t even twisted the cap off the thermos before his hand went slack. The flask hit the ground with a thud. No one paid it any attention, and it quietly rolled into a corner before coming to rest.
“She’s here. She’s finally here.”
The family clustered at the delivery room door, wanting nothing more than to rush inside.
Soon, a doctor in a white coat emerged carrying a tiny newborn and announced the good news:
“Congratulations! Mother and daughter are both safe!”
“Good, good, good. As long as they’re safe.”
Everyone let out a collective sigh of relief.
Then the doctor asked:
“Who’s the father?”
“Me, me, me! I am!”
Chen Fusheng raised his hand. His eyes had been locked on the tiny life in the doctor’s arms from the start. This was the first time father and daughter were meeting. But at that moment, whether from overwhelming excitement or something else, his mind went blank with a buzz.
“Here, Dad. Hold your daughter for a moment.”
Fortunately, the sensation came and went in a flash.
In an instant, the doctor’s voice and his family’s voices returned to his ears, and the world before him regained its color.
He reached out and took his daughter from the doctor’s arms. The little one was still wrinkled and red from birth, not exactly pretty, but in her father’s eyes, she was the most adorable child in the whole world.
“Sweetheart, I’m your daddy.” He gently kissed her forehead.
After that, the Chen family’s little princess was passed around through the arms of her grandparents, her grandmother and aunt from her mother’s side, her aunt and uncle, and finally returned to her father’s arms.
Because right now, only the father was allowed into the delivery room to visit the mother who had just given birth.
“Wife, you’ve been through so much.”
Chen Fusheng carried their daughter into the delivery room. Seeing his wife lying on the bed, her face pale and drawn, his heart ached.
Liu Xiaoli had been holding up well enough, but Chen Fusheng’s gentle words almost made her cry.
Chen Fusheng saw the tears welling in her eyes and quickly handed the baby over.
“Look at our daughter. Her nose and mouth both look like yours. She’s going to be a knockout when she grows up.”
Liu Xiaoli was indeed distracted. But looking at the daughter her husband held before her, she didn’t think the baby looked much like her at all. If anything, a little plain. But as a mother, she didn’t mind. She kissed the little one anyway.
“Brother Sheng, so our daughter’s name is Chen Qian, right?”
“That’s right.”
Liu Xiaoli turned to the baby: “Sweetheart, did you hear that? Your name is Chen Qian.”
It seemed like the full name wasn’t affectionate enough, so Liu Xiaoli spontaneously came up with a nickname.
“Chen Qian, Chen Qian. Mommy will call you Qianqian, okay?”
“The character qian can also be read as xi, like ‘west.’ Maybe her nickname could be Xixi. Calling her Qianqian sounds like she owes someone something.”
“Qianqian, Xixi…” Liu Xiaoli cycled back and forth between the two pronunciations several times. Perhaps under Chen Fusheng’s influence, she too decided that “Xixi” sounded a bit better.
And so, the name of Chen Fusheng and Liu Xiaoli’s firstborn was settled.
Formal name: Chen Qian. Nickname: Xixi.
After delivery, Liu Xiaoli was moved to a private room. She needed to recover at the hospital for four, five, six, or seven more days. If all was well, she’d go home and begin her postpartum confinement.
The pregnant woman in the next room had also given birth that morning, but her husband’s family had taken her straight home by noon.
This wasn’t a judgment, just stating a fact. The fact was that most families in this era lived on a shoestring. Every penny saved counted.
Wah, wah, wah…
“The baby’s crying. Must be hungry. Xiaoli, feed her quickly. Fusheng, you stay here. We’ll bring you food in a bit.”
“Okay.”
Chen Fusheng nodded to his mother-in-law and passed their suddenly wailing daughter to his wife.
Once the family had gone, Liu Xiaoli was about to nurse the baby when she noticed Chen Fusheng still standing at the bedside, staring. It made her uncomfortable.
“Turn around.”
“What are you shy about? It’s not like I haven’t seen.”
When her husband refused to budge and the baby kept crying, Liu Xiaoli just gave him a glare and decided to let it go. Fine, let him look.
But soon she discovered that the baby couldn’t get any milk on the first try, and both mother and daughter grew anxious.
“What’s wrong?” Chen Fusheng asked quickly when he saw his wife’s expression shift.
“She can’t seem to get anything.”
“Maybe the position’s off? Or try switching sides?”
Liu Xiaoli tried, but it still didn’t work.
“What do I do, honey?”
“Don’t panic. I’ll go get the doctor.”
When the doctor arrived and heard the couple’s problem, she remained perfectly calm.
She explained: “Don’t worry. For first-time mothers, the milk ducts are relatively narrow. And when milk production begins, the colostrum is quite thick. Newborns don’t have strong enough suction, which can lead to exactly the kind of situation you’re in.”
“How do we fix it, Doctor?” Chen Fusheng asked.
“Simple. Dad, help suck it out.”
She could tell Liu Xiaoli, a new mother, was a bit shy. After saying this, the doctor didn’t linger in the room. She left with a “come find me if you need anything” and departed.
Once the doctor left, the scene in the room became a little not suitable for young audiences.
But the good news was, with Dad Chen Fusheng helping to clear the way, his daughter finally got to enjoy her first meal in this world.
While Chen Fusheng was throwing himself wholeheartedly into new fatherhood, over eight hundred kilometers away at Emei Film Studio, Cowherd, the film he’d written and starred in, had finally finished post-production under director Han Sanping’s round-the-clock efforts.
Han Sanping immediately invited the studio leadership to watch the film, and while he was at it, put forward his plan.
“What? You want to send this film abroad to compete?”
The studio leaders’ first reaction was that he’d lost his mind.
But Han Sanping hadn’t come unprepared. Armed with his silver tongue, he persuaded the studio leadership. A meeting was convened, and it was decided to let him give it a try.
So on that day, Han Sanping boarded a flight to Beijing with the film.
