Chapter 257: TALK OF GRANDHILDREN

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Silence swallowed the table whole.

Liuxian’s hand stilled against Guiying’s knee, his jaw tightening at the abrupt turn.

"Mom." His voice carried a warning edge. "We’re barely through dinner."

"I’ve waited long enough already." Fu Wanqing folded her hands neatly in front of her. "I’m not getting any younger, and neither is your father, though he’d never admit it."

"Excuse me?" Hanchen’s brow shot up. "I could still outrun you around this table."

"You had knee surgery last spring."

"That was a minor procedure."

"Focus, dear." Fu Wanqing waved him off without looking away from her son. "Liuxian, you’re thirty-three. Every year that passes is a year I don’t get to spend spoiling grandchildren."

Guiying’s chest tightened slightly, memories of his own destroyed womb surfacing unbidden, an old ache he’d learned to live around rather than fully heal from. In this life his body hadn’t touched that fate, not yet, though the weight of the question still landed somewhere tender, somewhere he wasn’t ready to examine too closely at a dinner table full of people watching him.

"You already have four grandchildren." Liuxian gestured toward Tiantian’s side of the table, where Xiao Bao had climbed into Wen Haoran’s lap, thoroughly uninterested in the adult conversation happening around her.

"Four wonderful grandchildren, yes." Fu Wanqing’s expression softened briefly toward the children before sharpening back on Liuxian. "But you’re my eldest. I want to see your children too, before I’m too old to properly enjoy them."

"Mom, it’s not that simple."

"Why not?" Fu Wanqing’s gaze slid toward Guiying, something gentler in it now, though the pressure hadn’t lessened. "Guiying, dear, don’t be shy. Surely you’ve thought about it. A little version of Liuxian running around, or perhaps one that looks like you instead. Either way, I’d be thrilled."

Guiying’s mouth opened, then closed again, the words caught somewhere behind his teeth.

Beneath the table, Liuxian’s hand found his again, squeezing once, silently offering to take the weight of this conversation off his shoulders entirely.

"Mom." Liuxian’s voice hardened. "That’s not something you get to push on either of us. It’s our decision, and ours alone."

"I’m not pushing." Fu Wanqing’s tone stayed light, though her eyes said otherwise. "I’m simply expressing a desire. Is that a crime now?"

"It feels like pressure when you bring it up at dinner in front of everyone."

"Then perhaps you should have brought him around sooner, and I wouldn’t need to say everything at once." Fu Wanqing sniffed, unbothered by the pushback. "I’ve been patient. Patient people still have needs."

Tiantian cleared her throat gently. "Mom, maybe we could talk about this another—"

"I’m talking to your brother." Fu Wanqing didn’t look away from Liuxian. "You’ve already given me four. I’m allowed to want more from the one who’s kept me waiting the longest."

Hanchen set down his chopsticks, finally intervening. "Wanqing, let the boy breathe. He only just brought his husband home tonight, and you’re already measuring him for grandchildren before the soup’s finished."

"That’s precisely the correct order of priorities." Fu Wanqing didn’t so much as glance at him.

"I’m aware of the timing, thank you." Her chin lifted. "That’s exactly why I’m bringing it up now, while everyone’s already gathered."

Guiying finally found his voice, steady despite the tightness still sitting in his chest.

"Mom." He tested the word carefully, watching her expression soften instantly at the address. "I understand wanting grandchildren. Truly, I do. But that’s a conversation Liuxian and I need to have privately first, before we can give you any kind of real answer."

Fu Wanqing studied him for a long moment, something calculating behind her eyes before it eased into something more approving. She’d clearly expected either an outright refusal or a nervous stammering excuse, and gotten neither.

"Diplomatic." She nodded slowly, setting her chopsticks down as though sealing some private verdict. "I can respect that. It’s more than most people offer me when I bring this up. Though I expect that private conversation to happen soon, not in another five years."

"Mom." Liuxian’s tone sharpened again.

"I said soon, not tomorrow." Fu Wanqing picked her chopsticks back up, apparently satisfied enough to let the subject rest, at least for tonight. "Now eat. The food’s getting cold, and I didn’t spend all afternoon in that kitchen for nothing."

The tension around the table loosened gradually, conversation picking back up in fits and starts.

Tiantian steered the topic toward Yaoyao’s upcoming school recital, Wen Haoran chiming in with a story about Mingming’s disastrous attempt at helping in the kitchen that morning, and slowly the earlier weight lifted enough for actual laughter to return around the table.

Guiying noticed Liuxian’s jaw hadn’t fully relaxed, though, his hand staying wrapped around Guiying’s beneath the table like an anchor neither of them wanted to let go of yet.

"You handled that well." Liuxian murmured it low, meant only for him.

"I’ve had practice handling difficult family members." Guiying’s mouth curved faintly, though something heavier sat behind the words, unspoken between them.

"Are you alright?" Liuxian’s thumb traced small circles against the back of his hand, reading the shift in his expression even through the practiced calm Guiying had offered his mother moments ago.

Guiying nodded, though the motion came a beat too slow to be entirely convincing.

"We’ll talk about it properly. Just the two of us." Liuxian squeezed his hand once more. "No pressure, no timeline. Whatever you decide, whatever’s even possible, I’m with you either way."

Liuxian’s grip tightened slightly, understanding passing silently between them, the weight of everything Guiying couldn’t say at this table settling quietly into the space where his answer should have been.

Across the table, Moying leaned toward Tiantian, voice pitched low enough to avoid their mother’s hearing. "Ten yuan says she brings this up again before dessert."

"I’m not taking that bet." Tiantian smothered a laugh behind her napkin. "She absolutely will."

Wen Haoran overheard just enough to lean in as well, keeping his own voice equally low. "Twenty says she brings it up twice."

"Now that one I might actually take." Moying grinned, reaching to shake on it, though he pulled his hand back the moment Fu Wanqing’s gaze swept briefly in their direction, all three of them suddenly very interested in their plates.