Chapter 308: The Wild Husband

Ying and Nan Qinghuan sit beside the bonfire listening to Mother's nagging; he is a little irritated and his words lack patience, "Mother, eat your food; with me protecting Qinghuan there's no what‑if."

"Yes, Mother, don't worry; we'll be back soon, and with Ying here it'll be fine."

She reaches to take the bowl, but Ying takes it for her; the scorching ceramic bowl makes Ying frown slightly, "Mother, it's so hot—let it cool a bit before giving it to Qinghuan, don't burn her."

Mother feels a little embarrassed; this son is truly too kind to Qinghuan, and even Mother feels a tinge of jealousy.

"Alright, I'll be careful next time."

Ying prepares to feed Nan Qinghuan by hand; Youchao Xuan said Qinghuan's condition is weak, so she needs extra nourishment.

"Come eat some meat; eat more so you can get plump, and then my baby will be visible."

Qinghuan: "…"

She is at a loss for words, but seeing Ying's kindness she endures, "Alright."

She doesn't know why; she's clearly very hungry yet finds the meat too fishy and greasy.

She holds back the nausea and immediately takes a sip—my heavens… one can't hold it and throws it all up.

"Ugh…"

When Qinghuan vomits, Ying hurriedly pats her back; there's nothing in her stomach, so she can only expel some sour liquid.

"Oh Qinghuan, why are you still vomiting? What shall we do? Over there A Tian only vomited for a few days and then could eat meat—why can't you?"

Mother is very anxious; Qinghuan is too thin and can't eat, how can this baby endure? Qinghuan also feels very uncomfortable vomiting; she knows pregnancy nausea differs per person, but she's a hard person to deal with.

What to do? In modern times there would be medicine, but in this ancient age you can only simmer? Ying, pained, lifts her and carries her back into the house, then gently lays her on the bed; under the candlelight his eyes glisten with tears.

"Qinghuan, I'm sorry."

He didn't realize that making her pregnant would bring so much suffering; had he known, he might not have wanted a baby so badly. Even if they had no baby, he would have accepted it; he doesn't want to see Qinghuan endure so much pain because of pregnancy.

She was already petite, and now, unable to eat, she's even thinner, making him feel it's his fault; Qinghuan used to not be like this—she enjoyed everything she ate.

Nan Qinghuan sees him actually crying; her heart aches even more, and she gently strokes his head, "Ying, it's okay, I can get through this, maybe in a few days it'll be fine—really, I can endure."

"What do you want to eat? I'll make it for you. If you don't want meat, what will you eat?"

Nan Qinghuan pats her empty stomach, wondering what to eat; she wants something light—if only there were kimchi and Chili.

She has no appetite at all, yet her stomach is very hungry.

"Ying, I want rice porridge."

"Rice porridge?"

Ying nods, "Tell me how to make it?"

Nan Qinghuan babbles casually, unsure if he can understand, "Don't trouble yourself, I'll rest a bit and I'll simmer it for you."

"I'm not sleepy; you rest first, I'll be back in a moment."

Nan Qinghuan watches his departing back and sighs deeply; she truly didn't misjudge him—this man is worth everything she can give.

After Ying leaves, Mother worries, "Ying, what should we do? If Qinghuan doesn't eat, how can she conceive? Will she end up like Axi and lose the baby?"

"Shut up, Mother, stop talking nonsense; that's my baby, it won't be so delicate. Mother, go fetch the White Skin Doll."

"White Skin Doll? That won't do; the entire Tribe has only one, it's for you to use in a critical rescue, you…"

"Go get it."

Ying fetches some rice, then begins simmering porridge as Nan Qinghuan instructed; the Clay pot gurgles, and he sits there adding firewood while cooking the porridge.

Qinghuan said to wait until the water is about right, then it'll be done; although he's never done it before, he believes he can manage.

He wants to prove to the man named Li Xiang that he can care for Qinghuan, raise her plump and healthy, and let Qinghuan bear him a healthy baby.

Soon, Mother brings the White Skin Doll; it's a plump, dried Insect, and Mother is somewhat reluctant—it's a divine relic—but Ying intends to give it to Qinghuan to eat.

"Ying, it's here."

"Give it to me."

Soon, the precious White Skin Doll is stewed; Mother sighs, "I told you Qinghuan's condition is weak; you gave her this life‑saving thing to eat—what if something happens later?"

Ying says nothing, just keeps stirring the porridge; it's his first time simmering porridge, yet he does it properly.

He recorded everything Nan Qinghuan said.

"Mother, my life isn't more important than Qinghuan and the baby."

These words hurt Mother; she looks at him deeply, and indeed he is like that person—"You, I won't care about you any more."

Mother leaves disappointed; in a daze, Nan Qinghuan seems to hear a woman's crying—she's already hungry yet very drowsy.

Half awake, half dreaming, she has a nightmare.

In the dream, Ying is covered in blood, forced by a senior brother into a dead end; the senior brother insists she leave, and later she cannot leave, so Ying kneels there waiting for her.

"No!"

Suddenly she awakens, drenched in sweat, and this movement makes her notice something inside the Tiger Skin.

"What is this? She carefully lifts the Tiger Skin and finds a pouch made of snake skin; she glances and sees it's python skin, and the snake was huge—likely killed by Ying and turned into a bag. Inside the bag there is…"

"It is… some Grass Men woven from straw, looking quite lifelike."

"This is her first time in the ancient era seeing such exquisite craftsmanship; what does Ying want with these? There are Grass Men, short knives, axes, and Spears."

"Indeed, it's interesting."

While she's idly playing, the wooden door outside is gently pushed open; the tall Ying slightly bows and walks in, "Qinghuan."

"Ying."

"Awake? Come have porridge?"

"Porridge?"

She looks at the steaming porridge in his hand with astonishment and some delight; the scent makes her even hungrier.

That porridge must have some special fragrance.

"Did you simmer it?"

"Hmm, let's see if this is right; I followed what you said, soaking the rice and simmering the broth. Try it?"

Ying watched her with eager anticipation, hoping she would taste it, but Nan Qinghuan lifted the Grass Man in her hand and shook it, "What is this? Tell me first."

Ying, seeing that she had noticed, quickly set the bowl down and sat beside her, "Caught by you—do you like it?"

"For me?"

Is Ying treating her like a three‑year‑old? Ying chuckled softly, his gaze gentle as he looked at her, and finally nodded, "For our little one."

Seeming afraid that Nan Qinghuan might be displeased, he added deliberately, "But it's also for you, Qinghuan—do you like it?"