Only Lu Gu remained calm. He knew childbirth would bring unimaginable pain, but he was still happy. Though pregnancy had its joys, carrying a belly for so long made everything inconvenient, his hands and feet even swelled. It’d be better to have the baby out.
He hoped for it daily, but as time passed, there was still no sign.
Wei Lanxiang, as an experienced mother, knew some babies came early, others late, so she wasn’t overly anxious. But Shen Xuanqing, a first-time father, maintained a composed front around Lu Gu while secretly pacing in worry. He even consulted a doctor, who assured him the pregnancy was stable and they just had to wait.
Finally, on the 28th of August, Lu Gu woke up early after a restless night. His stomach had been intermittently uncomfortable but not painfully so, so he’d dozed until morning. As he put on his shoes and stood, he suddenly froze - his pants were damp. Remembering Ji Qiuyue’s delivery, he realized what was happening and immediately called for Shen Xuanqing.
A loud thud sounded outside as the washbasin hit the ground, water splashing everywhere. Shen Xuanqing, who had just drawn water for washing, abandoned everything and sprinted to the room.
Wei Lanxiang heard the commotion and rushed in. Seeing the situation, she understood immediately and smacked her son awake. “You blockhead! Harness the cart and fetch the midwife!”
Shen Xuanqing bolted out the door. Wangli Village was far, but unlike Shen Yaoqing, who had once carried the midwife back in desperation, they now had a mule cart for faster, less exhausting transport.
The red basin had been prepared long ago. Wei Lanxiang pulled it from under the bed while Shen Yan hurried to boil water. Shen Yaoqing, who slept at the new house, hadn’t arrived yet, but Zhao’er was still asleep, so he wasn’t an immediate concern. Ji Qiuyue ran out to summon the labor assistant, and the family descended into chaos, making Lu Gu nervous too.
[红盆 (hóng pén): red basin traditionally used during childbirth for holding water, towels, or the placenta]
The mule cart had never moved so fast. Shen Xuanqing barely stopped whipping the mule until he returned with the midwife, finally easing Wei Lanxiang’s anxiety.
Lu Gu was drenched in sweat, the pain of childbirth was unlike anything he’d ever experienced.
The door and windows were closed, leaving Shen Xuanqing know nothing about the situation inside. Shen Yaoqing, holding a crying Zhao’er in the yard, noticed his pale face and called for Shen Yan to bring a chair.
Childbirth was often said to be like stepping halfway into the underworld. Shen Xuanqing felt transported back to last year when Ji Qiuyue gave birth. Basin after basin of blood-red water carried out, the sight dizzying. A hunter who fainted at the sight of blood would surely be laughed at.
After sitting down, Shen Yan forced a bowl of warm water down his throat, snapping him out of his daze.
Like last year, someone carried out a basin of bloody water. His head no longer spun, but his legs felt weak. Childbirth was never quick, and each basin weighed on his heart like a boulder. He’d never imagined Lu Gu, so small and thin, could lose so much blood.
With the family in disarray, Shen Yan juggled boiling water and tending to her brother while Shen Yaoqing, holding his son, scoffed at Shen Xuanqing’s lack of composure.
Shen Xuanqing, mind blank, retorted instinctively, “You were only slightly better. Don’t act so high and mighty. Last time, I was the one holding you up so you didn’t collapse.”
Shen Yaoqing choked, unable to refute.
By afternoon, Shen Xuanqing, who hadn’t eaten or drunk anything, suddenly heard a baby’s cry. He shot up, wondering if he’d imagined it. But soon, Granny Li’s loud announcement—“A healthy shuang’er!”—reached his ears. Due to the wind outside, she didn’t bring the baby out but called him to the door to look.
He rushed over, nearly tripping on the doorstep. The swaddled baby had stopped crying - tiny, soft, and asleep, with a faint red mark between its brows like an exquisite huadian adornment.
[Huadian (花钿): A traditional ornamental forehead marking, often floral-shaped, worn by women in historical China]
A little shuang’er, just like Lu Gu.
Shen Xuanqing smiled, eyes moist, until Granny Li’s repeated congratulations reminded him to pull out a red cloth from his pocket as a tip.
The midwife, beaming, carried the baby back inside. The room was still being tidied, so he had to wait for Wei Lanxiang’s signal to enter.
Once everyone else left and the midwife went to Wei Lanxiang’s room to eat, Shen Xuanqing finally stepped inside.
Lu Gu lay with his eyes closed, hair damp with sweat. At the familiar voice, he opened his eyes, and the two shared a quiet smile—though Shen Xuanqing’s usually bright eyes shimmered with unshed tears.
His voice thick, Shen Xuanqing said, “You’ve suffered.”
Too weak to speak much, Lu Gu smiled faintly and whispered, “Did you pick a name?”
Unsure of the baby’s gender beforehand, they’d prepared several names but hadn’t decided. Now that it was a shuang’er, Lu Gu wanted to soothe the sleeping baby but didn’t know what to call it.
“Lingjun, Shen Lingjun.” Shen Xuanqing wiped Lu Gu’s temples with a cloth.
[灵 (líng): spirit/clever (implying intelligence, vitality); 均 (jūn): balanced/harmonious (suggesting grace or fairness)]
This wasn’t one of their previously considered names, and Lu Gu looked surprised.
Shen Xuanqing glanced at the baby and explained with a smile, “When I first saw him, the huadian between his brows was more delicate and beautiful than most. I thought if he opened his eyes, he’d surely be clever and spirited, so ‘Lingjun’ came to mind.”
“Lingjun.” Lu Gu repeated the name softly, finding it lovely. Smiling, he turned to the swaddled baby and murmured, “Lingjun… little Ling-ge’er.”
Author’s Note:
Lingjun was Qu Yuan’s (屈原) courtesy name. He was a legendary Chinese poet and patriot from the Warring States period, best known for his tragic suicide (which inspired the Dragon Boat Festival) and his masterpiece Li Sao. While brainstorming names, I stumbled upon this one and liked how it sounded, so I added it to my outline. I later learned one of its meanings refers to Qu Yuan, but it can also refer to literary scholars, since Lingjun will study in the future.
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