Chapter 56

The aftermath of asking about “kidnapping” was that Li Xi had the family office’s chief security officer, Pan Muqiao, conduct a full internal review of the security team.

In October, during the final week before delivery, Li Xi did something unprecedented—he asked Ying Zhiyu to take paternity leave.

He didn’t want to be wheeled into the operating room while still worrying about his Alpha’s safety.

And Ying Zhiyu had actually requested that leave much earlier. It just happened that the LI Pheromone Lab’s “synthetic pheromone” project had entered clinical trials around that time.

Li Xi couldn’t go out, so Ying Zhiyu had to run a few extra field tasks to keep the project moving.

Male Omega physiology didn’t allow for the same pelvic conditions as female Omegas—or even female Betas.

Which meant that most male Omegas had no choice but to undergo C-section.

Li Xi was admitted two days early to the same private hospital at the foot of the Li family’s hillside estate—the one Li family had built themselves.

Han Qiyu had given birth here too.

Li Xi had only one request for Ying Zhiyu: “Stay here. Don’t go anywhere.”

Ying Zhiyu chuckled a little, playing with his pregnant Omega’s fingers. “If you really worry that much, take me into the operating room with you. I promise I’ll behave and won’t cause trouble~”

The last month of pregnancy was truly exhausting.

The baby grew rapidly, increasing the strain on the lower back and abdomen. His organs were compressed, leading to shortness of breath, reduced stomach capacity, and the inability to sleep lying flat.

Li Xi was the type who would never complain, not even if he were exhausted. Ying Zhiyu could see it, of course, but he couldn’t call him out on it; all he could do was quietly stay by the pregnant Omega’s side as if nothing were wrong.

The two of them had discussed whether the Alpha should accompany him into the operating room.

Li Xi had been very firm—he didn’t need Ying Zhiyu inside.

And Ying Zhiyu more or less knew what Li Xi was worried about.

Someone as strong-willed as Li Xi—an Omega who had never shown weakness in front of anyone—would hate the feeling of losing control. Just from how Li Xi insisted on being the one to initiate their lifelong marking in both past and present lives, it was clear he cared deeply about “control.”

Once he was anesthetized and lying on that surgical table, all that control would be gone. The doctors and nurses would be the ones in charge.

Li Xi didn’t want Ying Zhiyu to see him like that.

Ying Zhiyu understood, and he also wanted to respect the pregnant Omega’s wishes.

So at first, he agreed. They decided together that the Alpha would wait outside.

But once they were actually admitted to the hospital…

Li Xi’s private physician, Qin Baoyan, arrived with the hospital’s chief obstetrician and anesthesiologist to explain the surgery, risks, and consent forms.

Listening to all that, Ying Zhiyu suddenly changed his mind.

He didn’t hesitate to soften his tone and even call himself “cub,” just to get through Li Xi’s defenses.

“Let me go in with you,” he coaxed. “When you open your eyes, I’ll be right there. It’s not like I’m going to run away halfway through the surgery. Then you won’t have to worry about my safety outside either, right?”

Li Xi leaned lightly against the headboard, looking at him without speaking.

Ying Zhiyu pressed on. “And when Little Love Letter is born, wouldn’t she be happier seeing her Alpha dad first?”

“Little Love Letter” was the nickname they had chosen for their baby.

Once the ultrasound showed they were having a girl, they picked the nickname together—it happened to match Li Xi’s chosen formal names, all based on “xuan” and “jian,” characters associated with letters and writing.

Hearing this, Li Xi lowered his eyes.

Holding Li Xi’s fingers—swollen from pregnancy as was unavoidable—Ying Zhiyu added softly, “Even if the baby won’t mind… Xi-xi gege doesn’t want to see me either?”

At those words, Li Xi shut his eyes for a moment.

He thought—he really must love this Alpha.

To the point that even though he had never liked having his decisions questioned, he always wavered at the Alpha’s gentle persuasion.

He couldn’t refuse him. And he couldn’t deny his own heart.

He wanted to look at Ying Zhiyu—at any moment, he wanted him within sight.

From Li Xi’s expression, Ying Zhiyu could tell he’d won.

He smiled, about to say something—

“Ying Zhiyu,” Li Xi called.

Ying Zhiyu answered softly, “Mm?”

But Li Xi just looked at him, saying nothing more.

After waiting a while, staring into his eyes, Ying Zhiyu finally murmured, “Mm. I heard you. I feel the same.”

Because Li Xi needed eight hours of fasting and four hours of no water before surgery, his C-section was scheduled as the first of the morning—eight o’clock sharp.

By the previous day, all the final pre-op tests—bloodwork, coagulation, ultrasound—were completed. Everything was ready.

The morning of the surgery, a nurse came early to place the IV line.

Then Li Xi was wheeled into the operating room first for anesthesia.

When the nurse returned to tell Ying Zhiyu to change into sterile surgical scrubs, Li Xi was already lying on the table.

Ying Zhiyu was seated beside his head. He had barely sat down when a nurse asked if they wanted calming background music in the room.

Ying Zhiyu didn’t know what to pick, but Li Xi spoke up: “Two Tigers.”

“Piano version,” he added.

Ying Zhiyu: “…”

Right after their wedding, he had pretended he didn’t know how to play the piano and plunked out a silly little “Two Tigers” on the rooftop.

And the Third Young Master Li still remembered it…

The Alpha was quiet for a long stretch after that—until the surgery actually began.

To distract him, Ying Zhiyu leaned down and whispered, “I heard some Alphas faint in the OR.”

He didn’t care if the medical staff overheard the intimate address.

Holding Li Xi’s hand, he said naturally, “If I can’t handle it, Xi-xi gege has to lend me some strength.”

Li Xi, lying on the table: “…”

“If you’re uncomfortable, you can go out. I’m fine,” Li Xi said seriously after a pause.

Ying Zhiyu shook his head. He wasn’t actually about to faint.

But seeing the surgery firsthand only made him feel again—those who carry and give birth to life are incredibly brave and amazing.

Even strong Alphas could faint, yet the person bearing life simply lay there fearlessly.

C-sections were a very mature, standard procedure now.

Everything went quickly. When the baby was lifted from the womb and cried for the first time—

Ying Zhiyu’s eyes lifted.

When he agreed to enter the OR, the chief surgeon had asked whether he wanted to cut the umbilical cord.

He refused immediately.

The surgery should follow standard protocol. There was no need for him—a complete novice—to jump in just for some symbolic moment.

Besides, after the baby was delivered, Li Xi still needed to be sutured.

In Ying Zhiyu’s view, instead of running off to cut a cord, it was far more important to stay with Li Xi through the entire process.

After Li Xi was taken out of the operating room, Ying Zhiyu took a brief moment to go see the baby.

Because the room Li Xi was staying in was already set up for rooming-in, by the time they came out of the operating room, the newborn in the adjoining nursery had already been cleaned up and was lying quietly in her little bassinet.

Five o’clock in the evening.

After resting all afternoon, Li Xi’s eldest sister-in-law, Han Qiyu, arrived right on time to visit.

Just like the last time when Li Xi and Ying Zhiyu visited Han Qiyu after she’d given birth, Li Qin and Han Qiyu waited outside the suite together as two Alphas, while the Omegas went in to see the newly delivered parent.

Han Qiyu brought several very practical postpartum care items.

Even though all of these had already been fully prepared by the maternity specialists before Li Xi was admitted, it was still a thoughtful gesture from her as a sister-in-law. Li Xi accepted them politely.

Sitting by the bed, Han Qiyu asked, “Have you named the baby yet?”

Li Xi answered, “The formal name isn’t settled. Her nickname is Little Love Letter.”

Han Qiyu blinked.

Little Love Letter.

Who that “love letter” was for needed no explanation.

With four childbirths behind her, the experienced Omega sat chatting with the brand-new, first-time postpartum Omega. As an Alpha, Ying Zhiyu felt it wasn’t appropriate to linger in the room and interrupt.

He slipped into the adjoining nursery instead to spend some time with the newborn.

Unfortunately for him, “Little Love Letter,” full and content, had zero interest in her Alpha dad. She simply curled up and slept soundly.

After Han Qiyu left, Ying Zhiyu returned to Li Xi’s room and arched his brow. “Wasn’t our baby called Li Shijian?”

Back when they first learned the fetus’s sex and basic features, Li Xi and Ying Zhiyu had agreed on the name “Li Shijian.” It completed the Ying family’s set of “pen, ink, paper, and inkstone,” and it had a lovely ring to it for a little girl.

But moments ago, Li Xi had told Han Qiyu that the formal name hadn’t been decided yet—and only mentioned the nickname.

“‘Little Love Letter’ is so direct,” Ying Zhiyu joked. “Your brother-in-law is going to go home and pick a fight with your sister—just look at what you two named your kid!”

Li Xi cast him a look and simply said, “You’re the little cub.”

“Mm?” Ying Zhiyu blinked.

It took him a second.

Li Xi clarified, “It’s not the right time to say the formal name out loud. It’s also a way of protecting my brother-in-law.”

Li Songqian would definitely have his own ideas about the child’s name. But before the birth, the two of them had never actually sat down with him to discuss naming.

And if the patriarch of the Li family didn’t even know the name yet, but the brother-in-law did—and the name somehow got leaked—who would be blamed?

In wealthy families, not knowing was sometimes a form of protection.

Then Li Xi added, “Little Love Letter isn’t the little cub.”

Ying Zhiyu looked at him.

Li Xi met the young Alpha’s gaze, enunciating each word: “Little Love Letter is Little Love Letter. The little cub is only you—Yu-Yu-Zai-Zai.”