Chapter 178: Heartbeat

*Runze’s POV*

The clinic feels strangely familiar.

It isn’t a comforting feeling. It just feels like a place I have spent far too much time in lately.

We take the elevator up to the private floor. The receptionist smiles politely the moment we step out, leading us straight down the quiet hallway toward the consultation room.

Bael walks right beside me, keeping his pace slow so I don’t have to hurry. His hand brushes against mine as we walk. I don’t reach out to hold it yet, my palms are a little sweaty from nerves, so I keep my hands to myself.

Dr. Xi is already waiting for us. He looks up with a warm smile, gesturing toward the soft armchairs across from his desk.

"How have the headaches been?" he asks, watching me closely as I carefully ease myself into the seat.

"Much better," I say, adjusting my weight to get comfortable. "I barely notice them now."

Dr. Xi nods, his pen hovering over my chart. "Any dizziness?"

"Only if I stand up too fast," I admit. I feel Bael’s eyes on the side of my face, quiet but incredibly attentive, making sure I’m actually telling the doctor the truth.

"And your sleeping?"

"It’s getting better," I say.

"How about your appetite?"

I hesitate for a second, my eyes darting down to my lap. "...Very good, actually."

Beside me, Bael lets out a soft, amused breath.

Dr. Xi looks between the two of us, his eyes twinkling. "I’ll take it someone is keeping you very well-fed at home, then?"

"Well, he had seven meals yesterday," Bael says flatly.

I snap my head around to stare at him. "You actually counted?"

"You complained to me after the sixth one that you were still starving," Bael points out, his face perfectly serious.

"..."

What a traitor.

Dr. Xi chuckles to himself, writing another note in the file. "Honestly, that is very encouraging. Keep eating as much as you want."

The rest of the checkup goes by quickly. He checks my blood pressure, listens to my pulse, and asks a few more questions about how tired I feel and how much the baby is moving.

Finally, Dr. Xi closes the thick folder and sets it on his desk.

"I am highly happy with your recovery, Mr. Runze."

I hadn’t realized I was holding my breath until those words leave his mouth. I let out a long, quiet sigh.

"The concussion symptoms are clearing up nicely," Dr. Xi says, looking at me over his glasses with a reassuring nod. "You still need to rest, so no heavy work or long hours of focus just yet. But you can certainly start reintroducing some light, daily activities. Just make sure to keep things very gentle."

My eyes light up. "...Really?"

"Yes," he says with a small smile. "Just listen to your body."

I look down at my lap, a quiet wave of relief washing over me.

"Now," Dr. Xi says, standing up and gesturing toward the examination table in the corner. "Let’s have a look at the little one."

The examination bed is just as hard and uncomfortable as I remember from my last check up. I climb up carefully, lying back onto the paper sheet.

Dr. Xi squeezes a thick line of clear gel onto my bare stomach.

It is freezing cold.

I flinch, my shoulders tensing up.

"Sorry about that," Dr. Xi says gently, picking up the ultrasound probe.

Bael moves closer to the bed without a word. He reaches out, and his warm hand finds mine where it’s resting on the metal edge. Our fingers lace together tightly. His grip is steady and warm, instantly making the cold gel on my skin feel a little more bearable.

The probe presses down on my stomach and begins to move.

For several seconds, there is nothing. The screen next to the bed flickers with dark grey and white shadows that look like clouds. I don’t understand what I’m looking at, and my heart starts to beat faster with worry.

Dr. Xi adjusts the angle of the probe, pressing a little lower.

Then—

*Thump-thump.*

*Thump-thump.*

*Thump-thump-thump-thump.*

The quiet room suddenly fills with a loud, rapid rhythm. It is incredibly fast. Strong. Vibrant.

I completely stop breathing.

The sound echoes through the small speakers of the machine, filling every corner of the room.

*Thump-thump.*

*Thump-thump.*

It doesn’t sound like the scary, beep-beep alarms from the hospital ICU. It doesn’t sound like a machine warning doctors that someone is in danger.

This heartbeat is loud and confident. It simply exists, steady and perfect. It doesn’t care that three grown adults in the room have stopped talking and moving just to listen to it.

My eyes suddenly sting. Before I can even figure out why, a couple of tears slip down my temples. I blink quickly, but the ceiling of the clinic just becomes a big blur.

Dr. Xi smiles warmly, looking at the screen. "The heart rate is excellent. Very strong."

He slides the probe a tiny bit to the left. "Look here." He points a finger at the monitor. "That round shape is the head."

He traces another line. "This is the spine."

Suddenly, a tiny, blurry shadow flickers near the center of the screen, moving back and forth.

Dr. Xi’s smile grows wider. "And right there... that is a little hand."

I stare at the screen, my mouth slightly open.

That is our baby.

It isn’t just an idea anymore. It isn’t just a possibility we talk about, or some distant dream in the future. It is a real, living person. Right now. Growing inside me.

I let out a wet laugh. It sounds like a mix between a giggle and a sob.

Without thinking, I squeeze Bael’s hand as hard as I can.

He squeezes back immediately, his grip tight and solid.

When I finally turn my head to look at him, I realize he isn’t looking at me at all. He is staring at the black-and-white monitor. His jaw locked tight, his eyes are wide, fixed on the tiny moving hand on the screen.

His thumb slowly rubs gentle circles over the back of my knuckles. He is doing it automatically, like he needs to keep touching me just to prove to himself that we are actually here, and that this is real.

Dr. Xi continues to measure things on the screen, clicking his mouse and typing in numbers. "Everything is healthy, Mr. Wuchen. Growth is right on schedule."

*Healthy.*

That single word sinks deep into my soul, washing away weeks of fear and nightmares.

We survived, the baby is safe.

I press the back of my free hand against my wet eyes for just a second, wiping the tears away.

I don’t want to miss a single second of this. I look right back at the screen, listening to the beautiful, steady rhythm of our child’s heart.