For someone with no experience in being a father, he had no idea what to do. But doing nothing made him uneasy, he had to get busy to feel less nervous.
Qinghe watched him spin in place wordlessly, feeling dizzy just from looking at him.
"Stop spinning, you're making me dizzy."
The moment Qinghe spoke, it was as if pressing a remote; his body immediately froze, standing there stiffly as if even a slight movement would make Qinghe dizzy.
Finally, after a moment, his mind cleared, and he looked at Qinghe with hope, whispering in disbelief, "Am I really going to be a father?"
His whisper was so faint that even Qinghe, with her sharp senses, almost didn't catch it.
Seeing the irrepressible smile on his face and the cautious, expectant look in his eyes, Qinghe's gaze softened, and she nodded with a smile, "Yes, you're going to be a father, and I'm going to be a mother. Our little baby, the fruit of our love, is coming. Are you happy?"
