While Fu Nanzhi went in for her examination, Shen Yi, sitting on a chair, pulled out his phone to look something up.
A quick search reminded him—the blood HCG test checks for human chorionic gonadotropin levels.
In simpler terms, it determines whether the subject is pregnant, though the results can reveal much more: early pregnancy, ectopic pregnancy, miscarriage risks, and other conditions.
It’s widely used because it’s the fastest and most accurate method.
Most people wouldn’t be familiar with this, but in his simulations, Shen Yi had already fathered several children, accompanying his partners through countless check-ups, so he had a vague recollection of it.
Given the prior use of the serum, Shen Yi couldn’t believe Fu Nanzhi had any gynecological issues—which left only one possibility...
His hands trembled slightly as he considered it.
Consort Mei might enjoy teasing Fu Nanzhi, but she wouldn’t play such a cruel joke. If she’d sent Fu Nanzhi for this test without reason, she must have noticed something.
"Could luck really be on our side this quickly?"
Shen Yi scratched his head, counting the days on his fingers.
From the moment he’d administered the serum to Fu Nanzhi, only seven days and one night had passed.
Timing-wise, it wasn’t impossible—but the sheer fortune of it left even him unprepared.
Just then, Fu Nanzhi emerged, pressing a cotton swab to her fingertip.
The whole process had taken mere minutes. Meeting her gaze, Shen Yi opened his mouth to speak, but excitement surged in his chest. He forced himself to stay calm—this was still just speculation. The results would confirm it.
Fu Nanzhi had endured so much already. If this turned out to be true, it would be wonderful—but if it was a false hope, her disappointment would be crushing. He had to be mindful of her emotions.
His thoughts raced, and what came out instead was:
"Done already? That was fast."
"Yeah, blood tests are quick. Just a prick, a drop of blood, and some disinfectant."
Fu Nanzhi nodded, then added,
"The results won’t take long. Consort Mei said she’d rush them—about half an hour to an hour. Let’s go wait in her office."
"Sure."
Shen Yi took her hand, and they returned to Consort Mei’s office.
"Sit," Consort Mei said without looking up, her reading glasses perched halfway down her nose.
"I’m reviewing something. Make yourselves comfortable."
"Don’t mind me—Fu Nanzhi, help yourself to tea if you’d like."
"Got it, thanks," Fu Nanzhi replied quickly.
"Please don’t worry about us, Consort Mei."
The room fell quiet, save for the rustling of papers as Consort Mei flipped through documents.
Fu Nanzhi settled beside Shen Yi on the sofa, whispering to avoid disturbing her.
The wait dragged on, and Fu Nanzhi, having skipped breakfast, felt her stomach growl. Listless, she quietly discussed lunch options with Shen Yi, carefree for the moment.
Shen Yi, however, was far more anxious than she was—but he couldn’t bring himself to say anything. He shifted restlessly in his seat, waiting for the results.
Fortunately, they didn’t have to wait long. About forty minutes later, a knock sounded at the door.
Consort Mei called, "Come in."
A white-coated assistant entered, placing a report on the desk.
"Director Mei, the results are in. Here you go."
With a smile, Consort Mei took it.
"Thank you, Little Han."
"Ah, no need for thanks," Little Han demurred before excusing himself.
"Well, here we are. Sorry for the wait."
Consort Mei adjusted her glasses and finally looked at the report.
Shen Yi and Fu Nanzhi exchanged a glance before moving to sit across from her, bracing themselves.
The report was a single page, front and back, its contents skimmed in seconds.
Soon, Consort Mei set it down, her expression grave as she turned to Fu Nanzhi.
Fu Nanzhi’s heart lurched. Her mind raced—was she seriously ill?
But she couldn’t believe it. In her past life, she’d been healthy, living well into her eighties or nineties. How could she suddenly have a terminal condition?
Just as her thoughts spiraled, Consort Mei’s stern facade cracked into laughter.
"Hah! Got you, didn’t I?"
"Ugh—!"
Fu Nanzhi clutched her chest, glaring.
"Consort Mei, that was mean!"
Even Shen Yi had been on edge.
"Sorry, sorry," Consort Mei chuckled, not wanting to push the joke too far.
"I’m just happy to see you so lively again."
"Don’t worry—it’s good news."
She patted Fu Nanzhi’s hand, beaming.
"Congratulations, Fu Nanzhi. You’re... pregnant!"
Fu Nanzhi froze.
"...What?"
"You’re pregnant!" Consort Mei repeated cheerfully.
"R-Really? You’re not lying to me?"
Fu Nanzhi’s voice trembled, her lips quivering.
Consort Mei swiveled her chair to face her fully, tapping the report.
"Of course not. Numbers don’t lie. Look—"
"This line shows your blood HCG levels. How could that be wrong?"
This time, the words registered—but Fu Nanzhi’s mind still struggled to process them.
Pregnancy felt like a distant concept, something that had never applied to her.
Shen Yi exhaled in relief, his excitement surpassing hers. He gripped her shoulders, calling her name joyfully.
"Fu Nanzhi!"
He marveled at Consort Mei’s perceptiveness—how had she even guessed?
Fu Nanzhi finally snapped out of her daze. Elation exploded in her chest, a tingling rush surging from her toes to her scalp, leaving her lightheaded.
Her expression flickered between shock and joy, her lips parting in a smile—only for a sob to escape instead.
Tears spilled abruptly as she laughed and cried at once, her face a mix of absurdity and heartbreak.
Shen Yi immediately pulled her into an embrace, rubbing her back soothingly, murmuring reassurances.
Fu Nanzhi clung to him, wordless, her grip tight.
Consort Mei folded her hands, smiling fondly, giving them their moment.
She couldn’t fully grasp Fu Nanzhi’s overwhelming joy, but she knew this happiness belonged solely to them.
It took a while before Fu Nanzhi finally calmed.
No news could have made her happier.