Chapter 235: Lin Xueqing Gives Birth

Time has entered deep autumn, the cold wind whirls dead leaves, swirling through the alleys of Bei Jing Cheng, emitting a desolate whine.

Within the Siheyuan, the atmosphere of hunger and anticipation becomes even more delicate because the lady of Xi Kua Yuan is about to give birth.

Lin Xueqing's due date is within these days. Her belly swells high like a ripe watermelon, her movements become increasingly sluggish and heavy, and her face often shows fatigue and discomfort.

Li Ping'an's heart tightens with each frown and each soft hum from his wife.

In these years of scarce medical resources and extreme material shortage, childbirth itself is a gateway of death, let alone in such a harsh environment.

He cannot wait any longer, nor dare to wait. Although Lin Xueqing feels she can still hold on, wanting to give birth at home to save hospital costs and trouble, Li Ping'an's stance is unusually resolute.

"We must go to Yi Yuan." He grasped his wife's icy hand, his tone leaving no room for doubt, his eyes bearing unprecedented gravity, "You work at Yi Yuan, you're familiar with the conditions; if… if anything happens, you can handle it in time. At home, with me and Li Pingle, you need not worry."

He does not voice the deepest fear in his heart—fear of postpartum hemorrhage, fear of the child suffocating, fear of any accident that could be fatal in this era. He cannot gamble with his wife's and child's lives.

Lin Xueqing looks at his unmistakable resolve, feels the steady, strong warmth from his palm, and finally nods, submitting to her husband's arrangement.

She knows Li Ping'an has considered every risk, intending to place her and the child in the safest place.

The decision made, Li Ping'an acts immediately.

He first goes to the factory to request leave, hands over his urgent tasks, and instructs Wang Dahu to come straight to Yi Yuan if anything urgent arises.

Then, without a hint of emotion, he retrieves from the storage a small jar of infant formula, several pieces of soft cotton cloth (used as diapers), and a small packet of brown sugar and red dates, wraps them carefully, and places them into a half‑worn canvas bag. Under the current circumstances, each of these items is a luxury.

He does not alert many people in the courtyard, only greets Sha Zhu, asking him to help watch the entrance. Early the next morning, as dawn barely breaks, the cold wind is biting.

Li Ping'an carefully supports Lin Xueqing, Li Pingle carries the canvas bag filled with "family belongings," following closely behind. The three of them, stepping through the crisp morning dew, leave the Siheyuan and head toward the Yi Yuan where Lin Xueqing works.

Without alerting many in the courtyard, Li Ping'an gently steadies Lin Xueqing, Li Pingle lifts the bundle, and the three quietly exit the Siheyuan, rushing straight to the Yi Yuan where Lin Xueqing works.

The Yi Yuan likewise exudes an air of material shortage; the scent of disinfectant seems milder, yet familiar colleagues and surroundings still bring some reassurance.

After settling into the ward, Li Ping'an stays by the bedside. Lin Xueqing leans on the pillow, fine beads of sweat seep from her forehead, and the contractions begin to strike in waves—initially like tides with long intervals, later growing denser, like drums beating.

She bites her lip, strives not to utter a painful groan, but clutches Li Ping'an's hand tightly, her knuckles whitening from the force.

Li Ping'an feels the strength and tremor in his wife's hand; his heart pounds like drums, yet his face strives to remain calm.

He has endured hail of bullets and faced ruthless enemy agents, but never has he felt time stretch so agonizingly long as now. He watches his wife's pained furrowed brows, wishing he could take her place.

"Ping'an…" Lin Xueqing whispers weakly between contractions, "Will the child… be alright?"

"They will, definitely." Li Ping'an leans down, gently wiping the sweat from her forehead with his fingertip, his voice low and firm, "You and the child will be safe. I'll be out here keeping watch."

The contractions grow more intense, the intervals shorter. Lin Xueqing's breathing quickens, her complexion turns pale.

When the on‑call doctor arrives to examine and says the cervix is dilated, allowing entry to the delivery room, Li Ping'an's heart leaps to his throat.

He grips his wife's hand tightly, watching her being pushed through that barrier separating inside from outside, a door symbolizing life, death, and hope. The delivery room door clanged shut, cutting him off.

The corridor instantly becomes vast and silent, only the faint hum of the fluorescent lights and the "thump‑thump" of his own racing heart filling the air.

He leans against the icy wall, feeling a near‑helpless burning for the first time. Whatever Head of the Security Department, whatever extraordinary skill, in the face of the mysterious and perilous arrival of life, he is merely an ordinary, anxious husband and father.

Time passes second by second, each second feeling as long as a century.

Uncontrollably, many thoughts flash through his mind—his wife's pale face, the vague image of the unborn child, the faces in the courtyard struggling with famine, even the hidden threats under enemy shadows… all intertwine into a massive, suffocating web.

He walks to the window at the end of the corridor, cracks it open, letting the cold autumn wind brush his flushed cheeks. Outside, the city is a gray haze, distant factories blur into silhouettes, and farther still the sky hangs somber.

The nation is undergoing labor pains, and his small family, in the darkest moment before dawn, faces the trial of new life.

After an unknown span—perhaps long, perhaps a heartbeat—a bright, crisp, life‑filled wail bursts from the delivery room, tearing the stagnant air in the corridor!

The cry, like celestial music, instantly shatters all anxiety and gloom.

Li Ping'an shudders, spins around abruptly, nearly lunging to the delivery room doorway.

The door opens, a nurse emerges cradling a swaddled infant, her face bearing a tired yet gratified smile: "Congratulations, Comrade Li, it's a son! Mother and Child Safety!"

Li Ping'an, almost trembling, takes the small, soft swaddle. The baby's reddish, wrinkled face peeks out, eyes tightly shut, yet he opens his tiny mouth forcefully, crying loudly, as if announcing his arrival to this harsh world.

At that moment, all the endurance, all the worries, all the fatigue turn into a surging warmth, breaching the softest dam in this tough man's heart. His eyes instantly moisten, and he cradles the weightless‑yet‑as‑heavy‑as‑Mount‑Tai‑shan life in his arms, as if holding the world's most precious treasure.

"Xueqing… how is she?" he asks hoarsely.

"Dr. Lin is fine, just tired and has fallen asleep. She'll be out in a moment."

Li Ping'an lets out a long, deep sigh, his shoulders finally relaxing. He lowers his head, gently pressing his cheek against his son's warm, delicate little face, a feeling never before felt—a blend of immense joy, deep responsibility, and endless tenderness—filling his chest.

Outside, the sky has somehow begun to show a hint of light; dawn is approaching.

This child, born amid famine and turmoil, is like the first morning ray piercing the gloom, bringing unspeakable hope and strength to this struggling small family.

Li Ping'an knows the road ahead may still be rugged, but with this fresh bond, he now has a stronger reason to protect, to fight, to greet each tomorrow, whether bright or dim.

He cradles his son, standing at the delivery room doorway, waiting for his wife to be ushered out. His silhouette, in the dawn's faint light, resembles a silent, steadfast mountain.