PTGWD Chapter 84: Overfed

Fang Xingzhou’s heart pounded wildly as he immediately picked up the egg and called out loudly, “Lu Jianchuan!”

Two seconds later, Lu Jianchuan appeared at the bedroom door, still wearing an apron. He poked his head in and asked, “What’s wrong, Zhouzhou?”

“The eggshell cracked!” Fang Xingzhou’s voice trembled. “Take a look—is it about to hatch?”

Lu Jianchuan strode to the bedside.

The two of them lowered their heads simultaneously, staring unblinkingly at the egg.

The egg was swaying from side to side.

The little monster inside seemed to be struggling desperately, trying to break free from its final confinement. It knocked against the shell with loud thuds, emitting a series of pained, high-pitched cries as it searched for an opening.

For a newly developed deity, a thin eggshell should be as fragile as paper.

Yet the shell encasing it felt like an impenetrable barrier, isolating it from the world—as if protecting it, or perhaps protecting the normal flow of the world’s fate.

Its divine power was useless here. Like a weak and pitiful chick, it had to fight with all its might, its tentacles scraping until they bled, using the most primitive means to battle against another version of itself.

Crack.

The fissure widened.

Lu Jianchuan instinctively tightened his grip on his lover’s hand, his expression tense as he murmured, “Come on, you can do it…”

Fang Xingzhou was so nervous his hands and feet had gone cold, his brows furrowed deeply, not daring to blink for fear of missing a single detail.

The room fell into heavy silence.

Five minutes.

Ten minutes.

Half an hour.

…

They waited for a full hour.

The crack in the shell still showed no further change. The little monster had completely exhausted itself, collapsing motionless at the bottom of the shell, streaks of blood from its injured tentacles floating in the nutrient fluid.

It had no choice but to accept the first major failure of its strange, nascent existence—even though it could control all the good fortune in the world.

The egg began to cry again.

Quieter than the night before, but far more heartbroken. Its tears soon soaked Fang Xingzhou’s entire palm, making both fathers ache with unbearable sorrow.

It had failed to hatch… What now?

Fang Xingzhou’s heart twisted with anxiety as he looked at Lu Jianchuan, who also wore a troubled expression. The monster sighed silently before forcing a smile, wiping the tears from the eggshell and coaxing gently, “You did amazing, baby! You’re only 0.027 years old. As long as you drink your milk and sleep every day, you’ll grow stronger in no time.”

Fang Xingzhou added, “It takes 21 days to hatch a chick. You’ve only been born for 10. Don’t rush it—take your time.”

The egg continued to wail.

The two fathers exchanged a glance.

Lu Jianchuan transformed his arm into a tentacle, retracted all his teeth, and placed the egg into his maw, providing the same sense of security it had felt in the womb.

Fang Xingzhou rushed to prepare formula, using a dropper to drip milk onto the eggshell, replenishing its energy.

After a long, flustered effort to soothe it, the egg finally wore itself out and quieted down, seemingly falling asleep.

The new fathers sighed in relief.

Fang Xingzhou shot Lu Jianchuan a meaningful look. Understanding immediately, Lu Jianchuan carefully transferred the egg into Fang Xingzhou’s pocket.

Human body temperature was higher, and the egg quickly pressed against its other father’s skin, occasionally sniffling in its sleep.

Once certain the egg was sound asleep, the two quietly left the bedroom, not daring to speak, communicating via text instead.

Fang Xingzhou frowned as he typed: “What do we do now?”

Lu Jianchuan replied: “It’s fine, darling. Let it rest for a bit.”

“Did it fail because it’s malnourished? Does it need to eat the creatures like you did during pregnancy?”

Lu Jianchuan knew the real reason.

The egg simply wasn’t ready to hatch yet. Last night’s intense encounter with fate had pushed it prematurely to the threshold, but it hadn’t succeeded in breaking through.

He typed: “I think it’s just too young. You’re right—chicks take 21 days. How could a baby jellyfish hatch in just 10?”

Fang Xingzhou remained deeply concerned: “But if the shell is cracked before it’s time, won’t that make things worse?”

The two fell silent for a long moment.

Finally, Lu Jianchuan hesitantly typed: “…Should I help it hatch?”

Fang Xingzhou looked up at him: “…”

Lu Jianchuan’s expression was sincere—he was genuinely considering this.

Fang Xingzhou typed word by word: “No! I’ll think of another way.”

—

The baby slept for a full day and night.

At noon the next day, Lu Jianchuan’s father suddenly called. Somehow, he’d learned about his grandson setting the chickens free and asked kindly over the phone, “Did the baby get hungry while visiting the farm? Are three hundred chickens enough to eat? I’ve already compensated the farm generously. If our little one still wants chicken, I can have them delivered to Xiangxing Street.”

Fortunately, it was Lu Jianchuan who answered.

He glanced discreetly at Fang Xingzhou, who was preparing formula, and lowered his voice: “Thanks, Dad, but that was just an accident. It doesn’t like chicken—not at all! We won’t be eating chicken at home anymore!”

Mr. Lu sounded regretful: “Really? I remember Xingzhou saying it loved chicken.”

Lu Jianchuan insisted: “Kids’ tastes change fast.”

Mr. Lu: “Is it behaving these days? Is it in good spirits? Xinning’s been crying all morning. We asked her why, and she kept babbling about a ‘ball’ crying in her dreams.”

…So the egg had already recovered enough to start visiting people in their dreams.

Not wanting to worry his family, Lu Jianchuan laughed: “It’s fine. Everything’s peaceful here.”

Mr. Lu: “Good. We’ll bring Xinning over to play in a few days.”

After hanging up, Lu Jianchuan went to the kitchen, where Fang Xingzhou was bent over, patiently dripping milk into the eggshell’s crack.

Once the feeding was done, Fang Xingzhou tore open the formula packaging and began writing something on the back.

Lu Jianchuan leaned in.

“Zailiu,”[mfn]载流 (Zǎi liú) – “Carry the Flow” symbolizes bearing the current of life or ideas, representing someone who carries forward traditions or influences others like a river’s flow.[/mfn] “Zhishui,” [mfn]止水 (Zhǐ shuǐ) – “Still Water” This name conveys tranquility and depth, suggesting a calm and composed personality, like water that remains undisturbed.[/mfn]”Fangkuai,” [mfn]方块 (Fāng kuài) – “Square Block” What can I say :D.[/mfn]”Yanzhou,”[mfn]砚洲 (Yàn zhōu) – “Inkstone Isle” combines the scholarly essence of an inkstone (used in calligraphy) with the imagery of an island, symbolizing creativity and resilience.[/mfn] “Hang,” [mfn]航 (Háng) – “Navigate” or “Voyage” signifies journeying through life with purpose, like a ship sailing toward new horizons.[/mfn]”Wuyu,”[mfn]无隅 (Wú yú) – “Without Corners” suggests boundlessness and adaptability, inspired by the Daoist idea of being limitless and free from rigid constraints.[/mfn] “Duchuan,”[mfn]渡川 (Dù chuān) – “Cross the River” embodies transition and perseverance, representing someone who overcomes obstacles and moves forward in life.[/mfn] “Liuzhou”[mfn]留舟 (Liú zhōu) – “Remaining Boat” or “Anchor the Boat” evokes stability and reflection, as if pausing one’s journey to appreciate the moment before moving ahead.[/mfn]…

The entire sheet was filled.

Lu Jianchuan wrapped his arms around Fang Xingzhou’s waist from behind, studying the list for a long while before asking, “What’s this?”

Fang Xingzhou: “Names for the baby. Which do you like?”

Lu Jianchuan leaned in closer, scrutinizing each one carefully.

After much deliberation, he hummed, feeling slightly dizzy, but not wanting his wife to think he was being perfunctory, he pointed at the simplest option and offered forced commentary: “Fangkuai (Square)! It sounds angular, very vivid.”

Fang Xingzhou: “…”

Lu Jianchuan: “…Liuzhou is nice too! It’ll become an anchor rope that ties you to us forever.”

Hearing this interpretation, Fang Xingzhou couldn’t help but laugh.

Seeing him smile, Lu Jianchuan grinned too and asked, “Which do you like, darling?”

Fang Xingzhou pondered, then circled “Zhishui.” Gazing at the characters, he said, “Having seen the rivers, one must find a way to stop the water—turn it into a motionless lake, trapped in one place until the day it dries up.”

Lu Jianchuan didn’t understand.

He kissed Fang Xingzhou’s earlobe, tightening his embrace as he lavished praise without principle: “It’s perfect! Whatever you like must be the best name. Shall we name our baby Fang Zhishui?”

Fang Xingzhou: “No. I’m only providing options. As for which it prefers, or whose surname it wants—that’s its decision.”

Here, he paused, sighing softly before adding, “Maybe once it has a name, its connection to the world will strengthen, making it easier to hatch.”

Lu Jianchuan immediately switched sides again, endorsing enthusiastically: “Brilliant idea!”

Fang Xingzhou continued writing more names on the formula packaging. Distracted, Lu Jianchuan nuzzled his neck, his human tail silently morphing into a hectocotylus that coiled around Fang Xingzhou’s waistband.

The egg—always an obstacle at critical moments—was still asleep. Now was the perfect opportunity!

“Darling, it’s been almost half a month,” Lu Jianchuan murmured thickly. “If you don’t like the strawberry ones, I also bought mint. The baby’s sleeping soundly—it won’t wake up anytime soon…”

Fang Xingzhou’s pen stilled.

He turned to meet those beautiful eyes reflecting his own image, his heart skipping a beat as if bewitched by a supernatural creature.

Lu Jianchuan’s breath grew ragged as he nipped Fang Xingzhou’s nose lightly.

Confirming the egg was still asleep, Fang Xingzhou’s eyes softened with amusement, his hand closing around the hectocotylus that had been standing at attention for nearly ten days.

—

The first battle after a six-month ceasefire lasted well into the night.

Fang Xingzhou was still trembling slightly as he pried open Lu Jianchuan’s mouth with sweat-damp fingers, meticulously inspecting each tooth to ensure the monster hadn’t secretly stashed anything while he’d been distracted.

Lu Jianchuan, utterly satisfied, obediently opened wide, letting his lover examine him. “Didn’t eat anything, promise,” he mumbled.

Fang Xingzhou even pulled out a flashlight, treating it like a medical examination. “Press your tongue down.”

Lu Jianchuan: “Ah—”

His throat was textbook-perfect, slightly red from overuse but showing no traces of food.

Only then did Fang Xingzhou turn off the flashlight and withdraw his hand—only for Lu Jianchuan to catch his finger between his teeth, licking off every trace of saliva with deliberate slowness.

Fang Xingzhou’s eyes darkened. His throat—also overused—ached reflexively as he swallowed.

He didn’t let the flames reignite, pulling his finger away with a hoarse warning: “No second child.”

Lu Jianchuan sighed dramatically, wrapping his tentacles around Fang Xingzhou’s waist as he whispered, “Then can we not remove my hectocotylus next time?”

Fang Xingzhou kissed the corner of his mouth, allowing the tentacles to roam his abdomen as he closed his exhausted eyes: “…We’ll discuss that tomorrow.”

Lu Jianchuan immediately broke into a radiant smile, bundling his partner tightly before peppering his face and neck with woodpecker-like kisses until the other man’s breathing evened out.

“Goodnight, Xingzhou,” he murmured contentedly.

—

That night, they both dreamed of dozens of crimson eyes staring unblinkingly at them from endless darkness.

Waking up, they lay still for a moment.

Fang Xingzhou immediately turned to look at the egg, forgotten by the bedside last night.

The egg had woken at some point and was now perched on their pillow, its shell bearing the mark of failure—a crack through which a single horrifying, pupil-less eye peered fixedly at its fathers.

Lu Jianchuan: “…”

Fang Xingzhou: “…”

A tentacle shot out from under the covers, yanking the blanket up to shield their bare shoulders.

Fang Xingzhou, uncharacteristically flustered, sank deeper into the bedding as he feigned calm: “You’re awake already? How are you feeling today?”

The egg wobbled.

Lu Jianchuan coughed: “You must be hungry, right? Wait, Dad will get you some milk. You should—”

Having been away from its father’s warmth too long, the egg was nearly frozen stiff. It dove straight into the cozy blankets, quickly finding its favorite spot on Fang Xingzhou’s abdomen and clinging there stubbornly.

…Huh?

Had daddy gotten …fat?

His belly felt… rounder.

Fang Xingzhou felt the egg pressing against his stomach, his ears slowly heating up.

Seeing his lover’s expression, Lu Jianchuan rolled out of bed at lightning speed, threw on clothes, and unceremoniously plucked the egg into his own arms.

“Come on, dad will incubate you today,” Lu Jianchuan said kindly. “We picked out lots of nice names for you yesterday. Let’s see which you like, okay?”

The egg disliked Lu Jianchuan’s body temperature and began protesting loudly. Lu Jianchuan shot Fang Xingzhou a meaningful look, firmly restraining the unruly egg as he marched out of the bedroom, closing the door behind him.

Fang Xingzhou exhaled slowly in relief.

His ears burning, he sat up and realized the sheets were damp from where the hectocotylus had spilled its contents.

Next time Lu Jianchuan leaves his hectocotylus inside, I’m cutting it off.

Fang Xingzhou thought with utmost seriousness.

 

T/N:

the explaination for the names are not official! I added this to help readers have an idea of what the names mean. ;P