The late afternoon sunlight filtered through the apartment curtains, casting long golden lines across the floor. Lin Xinyi stood in the middle of the living room, biting her lip as she checked the decorations for the tenth time.
There were petals on the floor — unevenly scattered, because halfway through she sneezed and gave up on precision. A small cake sat on the coffee table, slightly lopsided because the bakery didn't have the one she originally wanted. And next to it, a small, elegantly wrapped box — the heart of tonight's surprise.
Everything looked… almost right.
"Almost," she muttered under her breath, adjusting the ribbon on the box for the third time. "Why is the bow crooked again?!"
The door lock clicked.
Her heart jumped. "Oh no, he's early—"
Lin Xinyi darted to the light switch, plunging the room into darkness. She nearly tripped over her own shoes in the process, stumbling into the corner just as He Zhiyuan's deep voice filled the entryway.
"Xinyi?" His tone was cautious, amused. "Why is it dark? Are we saving electricity now?"
She stifled a laugh, heart pounding.
The lights suddenly flickered on — soft golden ones she'd strung along the wall. Zhiyuan froze in the doorway.
His usual composure melted, replaced by something softer, almost boyish. His gaze followed the trail, step by slow step, until he reached the coffee table — and the small box waiting quietly beside the cake.
"Xinyi…" His voice dropped, unsteady now. "What's all this?"
She stepped out from behind the kitchen counter, hands clasped behind her back, smiling nervously.
"Welcome home, Mr. He," she said, her tone half-playful, half-trembling. "Today's… kind of special."
Zhiyuan smiled, walking closer, his eyes warm with amusement. "Did I forget an anniversary? Or is this your way of distracting me before you tell me you broke something expensive again?"
Xinyi puffed her cheeks. "Excuse me! I didn't break anything this time."
"'This time' being the key phrase," he teased, but the fondness in his tone made her heart melt.
"Just—" she said quickly, pointing at the box. "Open that first."
Zhiyuan glanced at her, then at the small gift box. His movements slowed, as if he already sensed the weight behind it. He untied the ribbon, lifted the lid — and froze.
Inside lay a tiny white onesie, neatly folded, with delicate stitching across the chest: "Daddy's New Favorite."
Next to it sat a small white stick, tucked in a silk pouch. The two pink lines were faint but unmistakable.
Zhiyuan didn't move for several seconds. His expression shifted — confusion, realization, then disbelief. His hand tightened slightly around the box, and he looked up at her, eyes wide.
"Xinyi…" His voice came out hoarse. "You—are you—?"
She nodded, tears pricking her eyes as she whispered, "We're having a baby."
The silence that followed was brief — broken only by the sound of his sharp exhale as he crossed the space between them and pulled her into his arms.
For once, He Zhiyuan's composure cracked completely. He buried his face in her neck, his voice low, shaking slightly with emotion. "You're serious… we're really—"
"Really," she said softly, hugging him tighter. "You're going to be a father."
He laughed — a choked, disbelieving sound — before pulling back just enough to look at her. His eyes were glassy, his usual calm completely undone. "I can't believe this. Xinyi… you…"
"Surprised?" she teased, brushing his cheek with her thumb.
"More than that." He took her hand and pressed it to his heart. "I thought I knew what happiness felt like before. But this—this is something else entirely."
Her lips curved into a teary smile. "You're not… mad I didn't tell you right away?"
"Mad?" He cupped her face gently. "You just gave me the best news of my life. I don't think I could be angry at you even if you burned down the kitchen again."
She sniffed and laughed at the same time. "Hey, that was one pancake."
Zhiyuan chuckled, leaning in to kiss her softly — a kiss that started gentle and deepened with emotion. When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against hers.
"I love you," he whispered. "And now, I love the both of you."
Her heart clenched at the words. "Then you'd better be ready," she murmured with a small laugh, "because apparently your wife's already craving midnight dumplings."
He groaned lightly, still smiling. "So it begins…"
Their laughter mingled in the soft glow of the fairy lights, the tiny onesie still on the table between them — a symbol of the new chapter they were stepping into, hand in hand.