Chapter 278: Going to the Hospital to Prepare for Delivery
Mother Gu had become even more cautious when it came to the baby’s things. She frequently took the tiny clothes out to air them in the sun, and she did the same with the pillows and quilts from time to time. In all her years, she had never met anyone quite as particular as Sheng Wanyan. When it came to such meticulous standards of living, she couldn’t even begin to compete with her daughter-in-law, and she honestly didn’t know how to convince her to relax.
Sheng Wanyan, however, didn’t care what Mother Gu thought of her habits; she simply did what she believed was right. Medical conditions were still vastly underdeveloped in this era, and mud was everywhere outside. If hygiene wasn’t strictly maintained, there was no telling how many harmful bacteria would find their way into a newborn’s system. Once a bacterial infection took hold, it would be no laughing matter.
Another month and a half flew by, and Sheng Wanyan’s pregnancy officially reached the nine-month mark.
During her latest prenatal check-up, the director of obstetrics took one look at her charts and strongly suggested that Sheng Wanyan check into the hospital two weeks ahead of schedule to prepare for delivery. Given her current condition, the risk of a premature birth was incredibly high.
Mother Gu’s heart gripped with anxiety the moment she heard the news. A premature birth… She knew exactly why her third daughter-in-law was under so much physical strain. Wanyan had been quiet, cooperative, and perfectly behaved every single day since she arrived, never voicing a complaint. But deep down, who knew how much suffocating worry she was harboring for Gu Tingxiao?
Her son still hadn’t returned. Would he even make it back in time to witness the birth of his own child?
Mother Gu was beside herself with worry. The deployment had dragged on for more than four months now, and she couldn’t fathom what was causing the delay. Political Commissar Xie had no concrete updates either, repeatedly offering vague promises that they would be back “soon,” though no one knew the exact date. With Wanyan due to go into labor at any moment, it was a terrifying race against the clock.
With a heavy sigh, Mother Gu made the executive decision to pack their bags and move Sheng Wanyan into the military hospital the very next morning. Sheng Wanyan didn’t object. Lately, she had a lingering sensation that the little one in her belly was in a desperate hurry to meet the world; the baby’s movements had become incredibly frequent, as if it were eager to pop out and play.
Since they were transitioning to the hospital, Mother Gu had no choice but to temporarily leave Maodou across the lane at Pan Yue’s house. Pan Yue naturally welcomed the dog without a second thought. In fact, she pulled Mother Gu aside to discuss how they could tag-team Sheng Wanyan’s care.
Mother Gu was in desperate need of an extra pair of hands, but little Huzi was only eight months old and fiercely attached to his mother.
“Don’t worry, Auntie,” Pan Yue reassured her. “I’ll come over to the hospital every afternoon. Huzi is already eating solid foods quite well, so I don’t need to be glued to him for feedings all day.”
Seeing that it wouldn’t disrupt Pan Yue’s own household routine, Mother Gu gratefully accepted the offer.
The following morning, Mother Gu and Pan Yue escorted Sheng Wanyan down the lane. Auntie Xie spotted the trio carrying a massive bundle of luggage and hurried over to investigate. When she learned Sheng Wanyan was checking in early to prepare for delivery, anxiety flushed through her.
“But isn’t she still two weeks away from her official due date?” Auntie Xie asked, her voice tight. Captain Gu still hadn’t returned, and now the girl was headed straight for the maternity ward. Would he really miss the arrival of his firstborn?
“The specialist noted that the baby is exceptionally active and fully developed, so labor might trigger early,” Mother Gu explained quietly. “It’s infinitely safer for her to be monitored in a hospital bed than stuck out here.”
Auntie Xie nodded rapidly in agreement. The moment the vehicle pulled away, she spun on her heel and marched straight into Political Commissar Xie’s office at headquarters to relay the news.
“What? She could give birth at any moment?”
Political Commissar Xie practically bolted out of his office chair. How could the situation escalate so quickly?
“Yes! When exactly is Captain Gu scheduled to return?” Auntie Xie pressed, her hands on her hips. “His wife is on the verge of labor. If Captain Gu isn’t by her side when the time comes, what if…”
Having brought children into the world herself, Auntie Xie knew all too well that giving birth was akin to walking through the gates of hell with one foot in the grave. Enduring that ordeal was agonizing enough; if a woman had to face it while consumed by endless, terrifying dread over her husband’s safety, the psychological toll would be immense. What if the emotional distress triggered a medical emergency during delivery?
“Head back home for now,” Political Commissar Xie commanded quietly, cutting her off. “I’ll see what I can find out.”
Wielding a high security clearance, the political commissar was privy to certain classified updates. He knew the covert operation had officially entered its final extraction phase, though the precise hour of their arrival remained impossible to guarantee.
Having shared a bed with the man for decades, Auntie Xie knew his expressions inside and out. His guarded tone told her everything she needed to know. ‘I’ll see what I can find out’ was military code for a positive development; it meant Captain Gu was safe, accounted for, and very much alive.
The realization hit her with a surge of profound relief, and in her sheer excitement, she accidentally let the truth slip to herself! She knew she had to rush straight to the hospital to deliver the implicit good news to Sheng Wanyan, giving the poor girl the peace of mind she so desperately needed.
By the time Auntie Xie reached the ward, Mother Gu had already finalized the paperwork and settled Sheng Wanyan into a bed.
Although Sheng Wanyan was recognized by the state as a vital intellectual talent, beds within the military hospital were always in desperate demand, rendering private luxury suites an impossibility. Sheng Wanyan was assigned to a standard four-person maternity ward.
Her roommates included three other expectant mothers: one looked as though she was actively transitioning into labor at that very second, another was due within the week, and the third shared an almost identical timeline with Sheng Wanyan.
The military facility didn’t exclusively serve the regiment; nearby civilians requiring urgent specialized care were frequently admitted as well. It functioned like any standard hospital, with the sole exception that priority placement and entirely free medical services were granted to active-duty soldiers and their legal dependents. As long as the nation remained at peace, the military doctors kept their doors open to the public.
This specific four-person room had been personally secured through Pan Yue’s mother’s administrative connections, making it the quietest, most comfortable ward currently available. Many of the alternative rooms packed eight to ten expectant mothers together, creating a chaotic, noisy environment.
“Wanyan, lay back and rest your eyes first,” Mother Gu said gently, smoothing the blankets. “I’m going to head down the hall to fetch some hot water.”
She had brought along their basic evening essentials from the apartment, including personal water cups and a thermal kettle. She could always loop back to retrieve the bulk of the baby’s nursery supplies tomorrow; there was no immediate rush.
“Alright, Mom,” Sheng Wanyan whispered. She was thoroughly exhausted from the morning’s relocation, and the restlessness in her belly had left her body feeling incredibly heavy and drained.
Noting the deep shadows of fatigue bruising the skin beneath her sister-in-law’s eyes, Pan Yue quietly signaled her mother. The two women slipped silently out of the ward into the corridor to talk without waking her.
“Is there still absolutely no operational word from Captain Gu or Xiaoze regarding Wanyan’s situation?” Mother Pan asked, keeping her voice low.
Pan Yue shook her head, a heavy sigh escaping her lips. “Nothing. We don’t have a single update, and honestly, we have no idea if they’ll manage to cross the gates before the labor begins.”
Mother Pan let out a long, emotional sigh of her own. “When I was in labor with you, your father was deployed on a dangerous field mission too. The transport trucks didn’t roll back into the base until after you had already let out your first cry. This is the brutal reality of marrying into the uniform; you have to learn to shoulder the heaviest milestones entirely on your own.”
She paused, looking at her daughter with a slight frown. “It’s a grueling path. But if you’re planning to spend every afternoon hovering over your sister-in-law, what exactly are you going to do with Huzi?” Mother Pan disapproved of the arrangement; a tiny eight-month-old infant shouldn’t be separated from his mother’s side.
“Mom, I already told you, Huzi is eight months old now. He’s perfectly content eating mashed complementary foods,” Pan Yue countered defensively. “I’m only staying for the afternoon shift; it won’t disrupt his schedule in the slightest. Besides, back when I was pregnant and navigating my postpartum confinement, my sister-in-law flooded our house with the finest premium nourishment she could buy. When Wanze was severely injured and I was struggling with my pregnancy, she was the one who ran all over the compound to manage our logistics.”
Hearing her daughter fiercely fire back, Mother Pan’s temper flared slightly. Had she even accused the girl of doing something wrong? It had been a simple maternal question, yet her own daughter was standing in the hospital corridor lecturing her.
“Alright, alright, manage your own household as you see fit,” Mother Pan huffed, rolling her eyes. “I merely asked how you intended to handle the baby, and here you are giving me a grand lecture on morality.”
A flush of guilt colored Pan Yue’s cheeks. Realizing her defensive instincts had caused her to misinterpret her mother’s practical concern, she quickly softened her tone, flashing a sweet, apologetic smile.
“Oh, Mom, don’t be angry. I was just terrified you’d disapprove of me helping out,” she cooed, looping her arm through her mother’s. “You’re my biological mother; if you’re upset with me, how could I ever feel at peace?”
The sudden wave of flattery completely disarmed Mother Pan, though she still shot her daughter a mock-stern glare. “Go on with you. Your mother isn’t some unreasonable old crone who doesn’t recognize a family’s duty.”
