Chapter 296: Confinement
Whenever the baby started fussing, Gu Tingxiao would softly wheel the crib out into the living room, only pushing it back into the master bedroom after he had successfully coaxed the little one back to sleep. The moment he saw Sheng Wanyan sleeping soundly, he would finally let out a quiet sigh of relief.
At night, Gu Tingxiao would let her use his arm as a pillow, remaining hyper-vigilant to ensure her sleep went completely undisturbed. Under his meticulous care, Sheng Wanyan’s health steadily returned, and her complexion grew noticeably more radiant and flushed with life compared to the day she had given birth.
Mother Gu frequently spent her mornings brewing rich pig’s trotter broth or simmering chicken soup, which Gu Tingxiao would faithfully carry into the bedroom for his wife. But because the recovery broths were entirely devoid of seasoning, they tasted incredibly greasy and bland, meaning Sheng Wanyan could rarely force down more than half a bowl.
Gu Tingxiao never pressured her. The moment she set the bowl down, he would quietly pick it up and finish the remaining half himself.
It was only after drinking the flavorless liquid firsthand that he fully realized just how grueling his wife’s recovery diet actually was. He found it difficult to swallow after just a single sip, yet his wife was expected to face this exact deprivation at every single meal.
“Sweetheart,” he murmured, setting the empty bowl down, “I’ll run down to the hospital tomorrow and ask the obstetrician if we can start adding a bit of salt to your food.”
“Alright,” Sheng Wanyan whispered, her eyes lighting up slightly. She was well aware that modern postpartum guidelines allowed for a conservative amount of sodium during confinement, provided it was used sparingly.
Mother Gu, however, was trapped in the rigid traditions of her generation. She was deathly terrified that introducing even a single grain of salt during the confinement window would trigger long-term physical ailments or dry up the mother’s breastmilk. In this era, that was simply how everyone managed recovery; having access to fresh eggs every night and a pot of meat for every meal was already considered an elite luxury.
But Gu Tingxiao refused to let his wife endure a single ounce of unnecessary misery, completely indifferent to what other households did. This was his wife, not anyone else’s, and he intended to manage her recovery according to his own standards.
The next morning, Gu Tingxiao pedaled down to the military hospital to consult the medical staff. In truth, many doctors of this era shared the general public’s traditional views and strictly advised against seasoning postpartum meals. Decades of unyielding cultural folklore dictated their logic, and each held fast to their own theories.
However, the director of obstetrics offered a more progressive perspective. She noted that if a nursing mother was forced to consume entirely tasteless, unappetizing rations day after day, it would inevitably ruin her appetite, which would ultimately suppress her milk production over time.
Having thoroughly noted the clinical parameters, Gu Tingxiao hopped back onto his bicycle and hurried home. That afternoon, while his mother was busy tending to the stove, Gu Tingxiao stepped into the kitchen, picked up the salt cellar, and deliberately sprinkled a light pinch directly into Sheng Wanyan’s simmering broth.
“What on earth do you think you’re doing?!” Mother Gu gasped, her temper instantly flaring as she stared at him. This was Wanyan’s specialized recovery food—why was her stubborn son making such a reckless mess of it? “Yan’er is in the middle of her confinement! How can you possibly feed her a meal laced with salt? You’re going to ruin her health!”
Mother Gu scrambled forward, intending to skim the seasoning out of the pot, but the fine grains had already dissolved completely into the boiling liquid, leaving no trace behind.
“Mom, I rode down to the hospital and consulted the specialist myself,” Gu Tingxiao explained calmly, blocking the stove. “The obstetrician explicitly stated that we can introduce a small, controlled amount of salt to her diet. A minor intake is actually beneficial for her physical recovery.”
Mother Gu lacked formal medical training. Throughout her life, she had only ever overseen the confinements of Eldest Sister-in-Law Gu and Wang Chunmei back in the capital, and she had never heard of such a progressive rule.
“You actually rode all the way to the clinic just to verify that?” she asked, her voice softening.
Gu Tingxiao nodded firmly. Mother Gu looked at her third son, a profound, wordless emotion shifting in her chest. Her boy truly loved his wife to his very core. Back when her other two daughters-in-law were navigating their postpartum weeks, their husbands hadn’t possessed the absolute devotion required to march down to a clinic specifically to investigate such a microscopic detail. Those men loved their wives in their own standard way, but to extend this level of meticulous, breathless devotion? She was terrified there was only one such man on the entire earth, and it was her third son.
Mother Gu knew with absolute certainty that Gu Tingxiao would never gamble with Sheng Wanyan’s physical well-being; if anything, he guarded her health more fiercely than anyone else alive. Since the head specialist had authorized the shift, she desisted from her protests.
“Fine. If the doctor explicitly sanctioned a light pinch, then so be it,” she murmured.
Mother Gu shooed him out of her kitchen, carefully portioning out a small, separate bowl of food for Sheng Wanyan and adding just enough seasoning to give the bland broth a distinct, savory depth.
The moment Sheng Wanyan took her first bite of dinner that evening, her eyes lit up in pure delight. Watching Gu Tingxiao quietly organize the nursery supplies nearby, a deep, radiant warmth flooded her chest. This man never made grand, sweeping declarations; he simply identified her discomfort and handled the logistics in silence.
With her appetite restored, Sheng Wanyan ate significantly more than usual, cleanly finishing every single dish Mother Gu had prepared. Gu Tingxiao watched her empty the bowls, satisfied that his morning trip to the clinic had been entirely worth the effort. Had he failed to challenge the old traditions, his wife would have likely spent the remaining weeks forcing down half-empty meals.
Of course, Gu Tingxiao was entirely oblivious to the fact that Sheng Wanyan was also utilizing every private window to secretly dose him with spiritual spring water from her spatial domain. Had he known the truth, his practical mind would have likely short-circuited.
“Hand the baby over to me,” he murmured, stepping to the side of the mattress. “Focus entirely on finishing your dinner.” Whenever a meal was served, Gu Tingxiao would seamlessly assume full responsibility for childcare, ensuring she could concentrate fully on eating and relaxing.
He deftly swapped little Yi Yi into a fresh, clean diaper before gently settling the baby back against her mother’s chest. From the literal hour of her birth up until this moment, Gu Tingxiao had independently managed every single diaper change, leaving Sheng Wanyan with the sole responsibility of breastfeeding.
The remainder of the daylight hours were systematically divided between Mother Gu and Gu Tingxiao. Her husband commanded the night watch, while her mother-in-law took the reins during the afternoon shift.
Every day, the moment Yi Yi finished her afternoon feeding, Mother Gu would gently scoop the newborn up and carry her back to her own quarters across the courtyard, granting Sheng Wanyan and Gu Tingxiao a precious, uninterrupted window to catch up on their sleep. With his mother selflessly shoulder a portion of the domestic burden, Gu Tingxiao was spared an immense amount of physical strain.
He still carried the raw, healing tissue of his front-line injuries, and he hadn’t enjoyed a single day of true rest since stepping off the transport train. Mother Gu’s heart ached whenever she looked at his drawn features, but she was trapped by the reality of their circumstances. The small household was currently a delicate ecosystem composed of a fragile postpartum mother, a vulnerable infant, and an injured soldier. This alternating shift was the absolute best arrangement she could engineer, ensuring her son could secure at least two solid hours of deep rest every afternoon.
As the days marched forward, little Yi Yi thrived within the safety of the cottage. Her skin gradually lost the flushed, delicate red hue of a newborn, smoothing out into a beautifully pristine texture.
Time flew, and before they knew it, little Yi Yi reached the two-week mark.
Her tiny body had grown delightfully plump, white, and tender, and her delicate facial features were so exquisitely molded that Grandma Sheng constantly joked she looked like a sweet rice ball good enough to eat. The more Sheng Wanyan stared down at the plump little creature, the more a playful itch took over her. She secretly wondered if the baby would erupt into a dramatic fit of tears if she actually leaned down and took a playful bite of that soft cheek.
As it turned out, little Yi Yi was perfectly capable of erupting into tears entirely on her own, without any assistance from her mother.
Suddenly, a sharp, deeply aggrieved wail shattered the quiet of the bedroom. The second the pitch hit her ears, Sheng Wanyan decoded the cue flawlessly—the baby had either wet or soiled her diaper.
Gu Tingxiao immediately marched into the room balancing an enamel basin of cold water, skillfully cut it with a stream from the hot thermos, and tested the temperature against his wrist. He moved with practiced, elite efficiency, systematically cleansing his daughter’s skin. The baby had consumed her milk half an hour prior, and her rapid metabolism was already functioning like clockwork.
Sheng Wanyan assisted from the pillows, smoothly passing him a dry towel and a fresh diaper from the nightstand. The moment the clean cloth was secured, Yi Yi’s wails ceased instantly, her tiny lips curling into a soft, contented smile as she drifted right back to sleep.
Sheng Wanyan stared down at the crib, momentarily stunned. This little creature truly understands how to maximize her own luxury, doesn’t she?
“She really is a master at pampering herself,” Sheng Wanyan chuckled, leaning her head against the headboard. “All she does is eat, command a cleaning, and glide straight back to sleep. There isn’t a single person in this entire compound living a more luxurious existence than our daughter.”
Hearing her playful complaint, Gu Tingxiao looked up from his chores, an amused, knowing glint dancing in his eyes. “Are you entirely certain about that statement?”
He pinned her with a steady look. It seemed to him that there was another lady residing within these four walls whose comfort drastically outmatched that of their infant daughter.
“Am I wrong?” she countered, raising an eyebrow.
“No, sweetheart. You are entirely correct,” Gu Tingxiao surrendered instantly, a soft smile breaking across his face. He never argued against his wife’s logic; in his universe, whatever Sheng Wanyan declared was an absolute truth.
Thoroughly satisfied with his submission, Sheng Wanyan snuggled back beneath her quilt to settle in for an afternoon nap alongside her daughter. Gu Tingxiao watched the quiet triumph dancing in her eyes, gently shaking his head. Even after crossing the threshold into motherhood, his beautiful wife still harbored a delightful, lingering trace of girlish playfulness.
Once he verified that both mother and daughter were deeply asleep, Gu Tingxiao quietly stepped out into the crisp autumn air to tidy the courtyard. He systematically cleared the debris from the vegetable plot, turning the soil and preparing a fresh round of winter-hardy seeds to ensure their homestead would remain sustainable through the freezing months ahead.
For the most part, little Yi Yi spent her hours either sleeping soundly or blinking her wide eyes as she idly surveyed the parameters of her room. Whenever she grew bored of her surroundings, she would simply fix her gaze on the ceiling pattern, entirely free from the complex anxieties of the adult world.
Before anyone realized it, the grueling four-week confinement window officially drew to a close. Sheng Wanyan hadn’t been permitted to wash her hair for an entire month, and she was fully convinced her locks smelled absolutely dreadful.
Yet, Gu Tingxiao never displayed a single hint of distaste. Every time she complained, he would simply pull her close, burying his face in her hair while earnestly reassuring her that she smelled completely magnificent.
She had repeatedly contemplated sneaking into her spatial domain to enjoy a proper, secret hair-washing session, but Gu Tingxiao possessed the highly sensitive, trained senses of a scout. The exact millisecond she stepped back into the room, his sharp nose would detect the subtle shift in moisture and scent, instantly exposing her breach of protocol.
