Is My Wife Pregnant Today? [Quick Transmigration] - Chapter 11

It was hard to say whose fault it was, but Master Yu, who had always been invincible in both career and love, actually stumbled when it came to preparing for pregnancy. Perhaps one person’s efforts weren’t yielding results, so this time he dragged Zelan along to study together.

 

When the sounds of moaning and groaning came from the movie, Zelan remained expressionless, but his face slowly turned as red as an apple. Yu Xianqing even seriously put on his glasses, critiquing as he watched.

 

“I heard that using this position consistently helps the fetus maintain the correct position.”

 

Zelan stole a glance and felt his eyes were stung: “…No.”

 

“What’s not working?” Yu Xianqing inquired reasonably for his opinion.

 

“The actors are too ugly.”

 

Yu Xianqing slowly nodded in agreement and switched to another one. “How about this one?”

 

The movie played for a minute. This time Zelan didn’t look at the screen but at him, his gaze burning. “You think this orc looks good?”

 

Yu Xianqing felt a bit bewildered and said neutrally, “Not ugly.”

 

“I’m not better looking than him?”

 

Zelan thought about how seriously he had been watching someone else just now, and the dissatisfaction in his heart was about to overflow.

 

“Of course you are better looking than him.” Yu Xianqing wanted to laugh, and he actually let out a chuckle. “But your technique… pfft.”

 

Zelan: “…”

 

Seeing his indignant gaze, Yu Xianqing stopped the movie and said softly, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to say it like that.”

 

Nothing more needed to be said.

 

Zelan kissed him fiercely.

 

Wasn’t it just about conceiving a child?! Yu Xianqing probably hadn’t witnessed the reproductive capabilities of an orc yet!

 

Conceive, conceive! He’d make him conceive seventeen or eighteen at once! Scare him to death!

 

The day before leaving the Imperial Capital, Zelan called Yu Xianqing to the back garden. He sat opposite Zelan. This time Zelan wasn’t drinking; a purple clay teapot set was laid out on the table. Seeing Yu Xianqing’s surprised expression, Zelan gave a light snort.

 

“I was bored a while ago and bid for it at an auction. I didn’t like it after I bought it, so I’m giving it to you.”

 

Yu Xianqing said meaningfully: “Oh, I thought Your Highness never drank tea and didn’t care for these little things.”

 

Zelan: “…If you talk back any more, I’ll smash this thing.”

 

Yu Xianqing sat down with a beaming smile and began to manually pour tea for Zelan. Today he had done up his hair in a noble bun popular in the Imperial Capital, with a strand of long hair draped diagonally across his chest. When he rose to pour the tea, the jet-black strands swayed gently, gleaming with a silk-like texture in the sunlight.

 

Zelan instinctively stared at him, noticing he wasn’t wearing the bracelet today. Instead, he wore the green jade hairpin Zelan had given him that day. Regarding the proverb Yu Xianqing had mentioned, Zelan had spent several hours researching its origin after going back that night but found nothing. He simply felt it was a beautiful sentiment and wrote it in his diary.

 

He had rarely written in a diary since he was seven. The two most recent entries were one from the day after Yu Xianqing married in, and the other was simply that one sentence.

 

Yu Xianqing brewed the tea. As he sat back, Zelan looked up, his blue eyes clear and bright, rarely revealing a hint of boyishness.

 

“Do you know why I don’t like jasmine flowers?”

 

Yu Xianqing paused: “I’ve heard some rumors.”

 

“What rumors? About my mother?”

 

Through their time together, Yu Xianqing could see that Zelan’s mother—who was ostensibly ill but actually confined—was his taboo, an existence that could not be touched. He wasn’t sure why Zelan would bring it up of his own accord.

 

“If Your Highness doesn’t like it, you don’t have to mention it. I’ll act as if I never heard anything.”

 

“No,” Zelan said.

 

Then came a long silence.

 

“My mother’s pheromone was also the scent of jasmine.”

 

“When I was little, I could smell it when I lay in her arms. The scent of a person and the scent of a flower are different. When I was small, I could only fall asleep if I smelled her scent.”

 

There was a trace of nostalgia in his tone, but it contained no warmth. Yu Xianqing watched the steam dissipate from the teapot.

 

“Back then, she was still a good mother. Because she was the Queen, everyone treated us well. Only Father didn’t like her much, but she didn’t like my father either; they were just a typical political marriage.”

 

Zelan mocked himself, “So when I was seven, she fell in love with a mixed-blood who had some human ancestry. From then on, she changed. She started cursing the Royal Family—not just my father, but my big brother, all the nobles, and even me. She said we were all inferior species with genetic mutations, that inbreeding had made us born with genetic defects.”

 

“Inbreeding?”

 

“The late Queen, Al’s mother, was my father’s cousin,” Zelan said expressionlessly. “They were very much in love. But because orc genes are naturally flawed, inbreeding magnified those flaws. So Al… has some hidden ailments.”

 

His tone was obscure, and he added an extra comment, “If you ever go with him, you won’t get any ‘pleasure.’ Everything I can do, he can’t!”

 

Yu Xianqing suppressed the curl of his lips. “Oh.”

 

“You’re smiling! What are you laughing at?” Zelan was annoyed. “Don’t laugh! I’ve forgotten where I was!”

 

Yu Xianqing laughed even more happily: “You can even forget such a sentimental topic?”

 

Zelan glared at him for a long time, but Yu Xianqing maintained a smiling, polite expression. Zelan instantly deflated, grumbling somewhat aggrievedly.

 

“It’s all your fault. It’s not sentimental at all now.”

 

He was silent for a moment, then continued.

 

“In short, Mother wanted to abandon me and run away with the mixed-blood, but she was caught and brought back. The mixed-blood was executed the next day, and Mother went mad. She lured me into the forbidden zone, wanting us to die there together.”

 

“But Al rushed in and saved me, losing an arm in the process. After Mother was saved, she was kept in a mental hospital. I haven’t seen her in a very long time.”

 

Zelan took a sip of tea. The bitter taste was something he usually disliked, but right now it was unexpectedly acceptable. Perhaps because the person brewing the tea was different, even the taste had changed.

 

“I hate it when people lie to me.”

 

Zelan looked up, watching the human opposite him with extraordinary seriousness, his eyes completely reflecting that elegant figure.

 

“But I hate betrayal most of all. Those attendants who helped my mother try to kill me out of loyalty—I later shot them myself and hung their heads on the city walls for three days and three nights.”

 

“…” Yu Xianqing’s brow twitched slightly.

 

“So, you can lie to me occasionally. I don’t care who sent you or what secrets you have. But whatever you do, do not betray me. Do not abandon me.”

 

Zelan took another sip of tea, nearly losing control of his expression from the bitterness. He barely maintained it, reaching out to grasp Yu Xianqing’s slightly cool fingers, his tone almost solemn.

 

“Promise me.”

 

In contrast to his stubborn question, a system notification instantly sounded in Yu Xianqing’s mind.

 

“Side quest completed. Envoy has obtained ‘Fake Death’ qualification. Skill temporarily frozen, awaiting use.”

 

Yu Xianqing had thought many times about how to complete the side quest, but he never expected that Zelan would voluntarily hand over the task reward because of trust.

 

Yu Xianqing was unwilling to be shackled, to be bound to one place or one person, even if this person was sincere and beautiful, and his looks perfectly fit his standards—even if he might be carrying his offspring…

 

But if this wasn’t what he truly wanted, he still wouldn’t linger.

 

“Okay.” A smile hooked at the corner of Yu Xianqing’s mouth, as submissive and soft as ever. “I promise you.”

 

As soon as the words left his mouth, he was suddenly hugged by Zelan. The alluring scent of jasmine hooked him, even tangling into every inch of his clothes. Zelan was like a puppy, biting and nuzzling randomly against his neck.

 

“Since you promised, you’re mine forever.”

 

You can’t leave, and you can’t betray.

 

Before departing for the marginal planet, Qi Lin caught up to their hover-car and requested to go with them. Since the disappearance in the palace garden last time, Yu Xianqing had guessed that Qi Lin was one of the First Prince’s people.

 

But setting aside whether Al would plant other people, given Yu Xianqing’s unique physical condition, he indeed needed a familiar private doctor on the journey.

 

The aircraft bumped along. After an unknown amount of time, it finally docked with the starship in space.

 

Zelan was in the main command room observing the situation. Yu Xianqing nestled in the master bedroom, sitting at the table in his robe, opening his black box to continue the work he had been doing these past few days.

 

Few people knew that he was once an outstanding designer. For a long time, he relied on making things he loved to relieve the pressure of taking over the family business. Even in the orc era, Yu Xianqing still enjoyed making small things; it gave him a sense of peaceful satisfaction.

 

Noticing that the aircraft’s flight was gradually becoming stable, he pulled back the curtain and saw the brilliant galaxy through the porthole. He had once lived in an era before humans had left the Blue Planet; seeing the grandeur of the universe with his own eyes for the first time, Yu Xianqing sat by the window for a long time, the movements of his hands coming to a standstill.

 

Suddenly, as if hit by inspiration, a light covered his eyes. He lowered his head and began operating again.

 

The Nanting family’s fief was in the NH5 galaxy, quite far from the Imperial Capital—separated by hundreds of billions of light-years. It required multiple wormhole jumps to reach. Traversing wormholes required energy; whenever they reached a galaxy, the starship would stop to replenish energy at a local station.

 

After bumping along for a month and nearly vomiting from eating energy meals, and still being some distance away, Yu Xianqing finally understood why Zelan hadn’t planned on returning to the fief initially. The further the footprints of orc exploration and expansion reached, the more time and energy it consumed. In exchange, the orc race gained longevity and great physical power.

 

This was a race born to fight in the universe. Most orcs had been exposed to varying degrees of cosmic radiation since birth. In the long run, their genes were flawed. This was also why humans were weak, yet orcs flocked to them—humans possessed “primitive and elegant” genes, like the original programming of a computer.

 

If orc genes were meant for survival through adaptation to the universe—symbolizing “endurance” and “power”—then the keywords for human genes must be “stability” and “tolerance.”

 

The journey was long and rugged. During this time, Yu Xianqing and Zelan saw little of each other. Zelan was busy training soldiers and analyzing the enemy situation. He constantly missed that feeling of stability and peace he felt when nesting beside the human. He simply saved up several months’ worth of leave and used it all at once on the last weekend before arriving at the marginal planet.

 

As soon as he entered the room, Yu Xianqing sensed his arrival and immediately stuffed something into a box. Then he turned to look at him with a smile. “Highness.”

 

Zelan had asked indirectly what he had been doing these days, but Yu Xianqing always brushed him off lukewarmly. Over time, Zelan stopped asking.

 

Although he still felt a bit disgruntled, Aubert told him that to keep a human by one’s side permanently, force and vows weren’t enough; he also needed to learn about things like “romance.” It was the same with everything: only when you give them freedom and they eventually choose to return to you can you be said to truly possess them.

 

Aubert said with a face full of yearning, “Only love possesses such magical power, Commander. You must handle this well!” He even stuffed him with some books that looked very unreliable, such as “Thirty-Six Stratagems of Love,” “How to Make Him Unable to Leave You,” “Cat’s Guide to Raising Humans”… and so on. They were thicker than military manuals.

 

Zelan had once scoffed at the thoughts inside his rabbit adjutant’s head, but the moment he pushed open the door and saw Yu Xianqing, his heart—which had been floating and irritable from the long space migration—instantly settled down.

 

Perhaps falling in love was a good idea?

 

However, what he felt in his heart was different from what he displayed. Yu Xianqing saw Zelan’s dodging gaze, took off the bracelet on his wrist, and stuffed it into the jet-black wardrobe.

 

“Highness, it’s been a long time since we’ve done ‘official business.'” Yu Xianqing reminded him obscurely.

 

Zelan, who was mentally reviewing eight hundred types of sweet talk he’d learned last night, was dazed for a moment: “Huh?”

 

Yu Xianqing walked forward, his hands gently unbuttoning the orc’s shirt one by one. He looked up, his eyes shimmering with the colors of spring. His voice was also soft as a spring breeze, “I’ve prepared some toys lately… Your Highness will surely like them.”

 

Yes. Because he was too bored, Yu Xianqing had made some little gadgets over the past few days. He didn’t quite understand why Zelan had such a high fertility rate and they were active frequently, yet there were still no signs of pregnancy.

 

After searching online, it only said that besides the possibility of infertility, it was possible the orc’s body hadn’t completely “opened up” and wasn’t ready to conceive. Yu Xianqing concluded that he hadn’t worked hard enough to “open” the other person.

 

Meeting the orc’s shocked eyes, Yu Xianqing planted a gentle kiss on the corner of his lips. His eyes flickered, and he said provocatively:

 

“Want to try?”

 

Zelan kissed his ears urgently, hands squeezing his waist, the rims of his eyes flushed red.

 

“Hurry up, or else I’ll be on top.” Zelan urged through gritted teeth.

 

Zelan’s physique was naturally excellent—broad shoulders and a narrow waist, with measurements that were hard for other herbivorous orcs to match. Under the decorations, a pair of ruby metal pendants dazzled the eyes.

 

Yu Xianqing slowly sank down, stealing an extra glance at him. “So impatient…”

 

Before he could finish, the unable-to-endure Zelan pounced on him, and the two rolled across the wide soft bed. Yu Xianqing was instantly enveloped by Zelan’s leaning body; the orc’s ambiguous breath sprayed onto his face, and the jasmine scent bloomed with a decadent fragrance.

 

Being pressed down so unexpectedly, Yu Xianqing felt a spark of inexplicable fire. He gripped the other, the strength of his five fingers tightening until they almost left marks.

 

Zelan knit his brows in pain. He wanted to cry out but was fiercely blocked by Yu Xianqing’s kiss. Unable to vent, his expression became even more dazed.

 

“How about now?” Yu Xianqing’s voice was raspy. “Do you need me to give you a bit more?”

 

Zelan’s face was flushed red, his thin lips unable to close, with dried blood on the corners—bitten out by an out-of-control Yu Xianqing. His eyes narrowed, pupils dilated, unable to focus.

 

Hearing this, he barely thought; the greedy instinct of an orc made him say: “Not enough.”

 

In that instant, even Yu Xianqing’s expression changed slightly. He looked at Zelan with a half-smile, his tone intriguing.

 

“Fine then, it’ll have to be something a bit special.” Yu Xianqing toyed with his flushed earlobe, eyes curving into a smile. “Not to be repeated.”

 

As soon as he finished speaking, a familiar sound of clinking metal suddenly rang in Zelan’s ears. Yu Xianqing had cuffed his hands along with his neck to the headboard—using the shackles from their wedding day.

 

“It seems keeping these things and not throwing them away was the right choice.” Yu Xianqing sighed with emotion.

 

Zelan was unable to move, unable even to lower his head to take the initiative to kiss Yu Xianqing. He could only lie open and allow the tested gadgets to be used on him.

 

Tricky and extreme sensations fell along with gentle, dense kisses. Tears seeped from the corners of Zelan’s eyes, but no one cared. Only when Yu Xianqing wanted to kiss him would he lean in gently, brushing aside long hair from the ear to exchange a lingering kiss.

 

By the end, Zelan’s thin lips couldn’t even contain his tongue. He whimpered as the human kissed his eyelids. The sensation of that moment was scorching hot; Zelan’s mind was in a daze as he heard the human sigh.

 

“Why are you crying? Will kissing you more make you stop?”

 

The human pitied him, yet controlled him. No matter how he begged for mercy, the shackles were never unlocked.

 

After waking up the next day, Zelan walked with a limp to the training room and was ridiculed by his subordinates. A few familiar orcs circled him, winking at him:

 

“The male pheromones on His Highness are so strong. Did you almost die on the human last night?”

 

“Can the Imperial Consort still get out of bed?”

 

“What does the great human beauty taste like, Your Highness…”

 

The orc culture was open, and they always had a desire to share such things, especially a group of single men who had been fighting in space for a long time without partners.

 

But Zelan instinctively stopped his steps.

 

“Get lost!” His expression darkened. The orcs immediately stood at attention, not daring to breathe.

 

“Train your troops properly and stop talking shit. If I hear anyone gossiping about the Imperial Consort again, I’ll cut out their tongue.”

 

Zelan’s cold gaze swept the circle, making everyone lower their heads.

 

“Do you understand?”

 

“Yes!”

 

Once the crowd dispersed, Zelan’s tensed expression relaxed. He slowly covered his face, hiding his blushing and overwhelmed look, cursing internally. Humans truly aren’t good things!

 

A week later, they arrived at a stopping point called Planet Valiran. It was the last stronghold before reaching the Nanting family’s fief. The starship dutifully remained there; once fully charged with energy, it could quickly return. In less than three days, they would reach Planet Nanting.

 

At that time, Qi Lin was in the room performing a physical examination for Yu Xianqing. He looked through each item, habitually furrowing his brow.

 

Again.

 

His health was improving step by step, yet there were no signs of pregnancy.

 

…It shouldn’t be.

 

Since boarding the starship, although their frequency of sex wasn’t high, it definitely occurred. Qi Lin was clear about this—there was a monitor in Yu Xianqing’s bracelet, and Al had given Qi Lin a copy of the system when he left. Although Yu Xianqing would lock the bracelet elsewhere whenever they did “official business,” he could roughly judge their frequency.

 

Logically, for an orc of this age, breaking his celibacy should quickly result in a litter of cubs for his wife; in a few months, he should be sitting by a warm hearth with a wife and kids. But after so long, not only was there no movement in Yu Xianqing’s belly, but he had even grown abdominal muscles.

 

This was quite an insult to a doctor.

 

Qi Lin said cautiously: “Your Highness, there is something I don’t know if I should ask.”

 

Yu Xianqing watched him gently. “Go ahead.”

 

“Regarding the issue of imperial heirs, I would like to ask, roughly how long does each session with Prince Zelan last?”

 

“…” Yu Xianqing feigned thought. “Hmm, about half an hour or so.”

 

As everyone knows, ten minutes, fifteen minutes, forty-five minutes, and an hour are all “about half an hour.”

 

Qi Lin asked for more details, and Yu Xianqing answered them all without changing his expression. By the end of the questioning, Qi Lin was truly bewildered.

 

Such grand data, such an intimate couple. So… if Yu Xianqing isn’t getting pregnant, where exactly is the problem?

 

Qi Lin—the young and promising master of obstetrics and gifted geneticist—fell into a brief state of deep thought.