“Good. I’ll stay here by myself.”
Shen Yanzhi flushed with anger and shot to his feet from Zhou Wu’s side. “Then forget about the exam!”
“Su Bai won’t get into that Research Institute either.”
“You can both go crawling back to that Slum Orphanage. How about that?”
“You think these resources just fell into your lap?”
Zhou Wu stared at him, then seemed to exhaust every last bit of his strength as he wearily covered his face with his hand.
“Why… do you always have to say things like that?”
He sounded as if he were searching for excuses for the other man, or perhaps making one final confirmation. “Are you just saying that out of anger… or…”
He lifted his head, a strained smile on his face. “Is our relationship really just… this?”
“My words earlier were harsh. I was already planning to apologize.” Zhou Wu’s voice grew quieter. “But now I get it.”
“I shouldn’t have asked why you wanted to remove my gland. I shouldn’t have blamed you for not caring what I want.”
“Because you and I were never equals to begin with. I shouldn’t have dared to hope we ever could be.”
“Because I’m nothing, while you… you’re Shen Yanzhi.”
After Zhou Wu finished speaking, his gaze remained fixed on Shen Yanzhi’s face, waiting for some kind of reaction—even just a denying glance.
But Shen Yanzhi simply stood there, stunned.
Zhou Wu’s eyes quickly reddened around the edges.
He took a deep breath, rose to his feet, and bowed deeply to Shen Yanzhi.
“I’m sorry for troubling you. I only just realized it now.”
Shen Yanzhi: “…”
What had he just said?
Something felt off. But he couldn’t pinpoint exactly what.
Could he still claim those words had just been spoken in anger?
Shen Yanzhi’s bluster deflated. “That’s not… what I meant.”
“Then may I ask, what exactly is keeping me from going out?”
Yet Shen Yanzhi couldn’t come up with an answer.
“It’s fine.”
Zhou Wu composed his expression and even smiled at him. “You’re right. Su Bai and I only have this chance because of you.”
“So,” Zhou Wu asked softly, like the most dutiful employee, “what should I do now?”
Shen Yanzhi was struck speechless.
Zhou Wu’s gaze drifted to his slightly swollen abdomen. He stepped forward on his own initiative, wrapped his arms gently around Shen Yanzhi, and rested the side of his face on his shoulder.
“I understand,” he said tenderly. “The most important thing right now is for you to give birth to the Baby smoothly.”
“So I should focus on providing you with my pheromones.”
For a moment, Shen Yanzhi couldn’t find any words. Because this seemed to be… exactly the outcome his rational mind had always wanted.
A perfectly obedient Zhou Wu, who no longer resisted, no longer dreamed of leaving.
And in the days that followed, Zhou Wu truly became “perfect.”
He grew extraordinarily compliant. When Shen Yanzhi was busy, he would quietly sit in a corner and read.
The moment Shen Yanzhi left the study—or even just shot him a glance—Zhou Wu would appear at his side in an instant, anticipating his every need with thoughtful precision.
…
“I learned something new recently.”
In the bedroom, Shen Yanzhi lay with his ankle held high, his face flushed crimson with embarrassment. “Uh, what?”
“The better the birth canal develops, the smoother the delivery will be.”
Zhou Wu’s gaze dropped down, and Shen Yanzhi instinctively flinched, his face turning even redder.
“…What are you doing? Stop touching it…”
“This helps the birth canal develop too.”
Zhou Wu could already reach it now—a brand-new passage, though still very small.
He marveled. “I can’t believe… a Baby is going to come out of here.”
“Enough… don’t look.”
Shen Yanzhi seemed especially sensitive there. The slightest touch made him tremble violently, sweat beading on his forehead, his struggles feeble.
“I’m worried it hasn’t developed enough yet…”
Instead, Zhou Wu grew insistent, continuing to touch for a while longer. Shen Yanzhi looked like he was about to lose his mind.
“No, it feels so weird… Enough! Don’t touch it.”
Even as he said that—pinned down and touched—he suddenly gushed with fluid.
“Ah.” Shen Yanzhi’s head snapped back. He clutched the bedsheets, breathing in sharp, ragged gasps, the corners of his eyes red, his reaction intense.
“Zhou Wu, don’t…”
Zhou Wu froze. He could even fit a fingertip inside now. “Sorry, does it hurt?”
“Just bear with it a little… It’s all for your own good.”
To distract him from the pain, Zhou Wu leaned down and took him in his mouth again.
“!? Don’t…” Don’t do that—it made the pain feel strange in a whole new way.
Shen Yanzhi felt utterly out of control, disoriented. He had no idea how he even climaxed.
Zhou Wu’s face was drenched from it.
Zhou Wu didn’t seem to mind at all. He was still marveling at the wonders of ABO biology.
“Does that mean… you’ll get pregnant more easily from now on?”
It took Shen Yanzhi a good while to pull himself back together.
How had things turned out like this? He didn’t even feel like an Alpha anymore. A spark of irritation flickered in Shen Yanzhi.
Zhou Wu apologized proactively. “I’m sorry. I know there won’t be a next time. It’s all my fault.”
He gently rested his forehead against Shen Yanzhi’s belly. “Thank you for agreeing to give birth to the Baby.”
“Even if it’s from someone like me…”
Shen Yanzhi: “…”
Something still felt wrong.
But at that moment, Zhou Wu pulled his soiled shirt over his head and tossed it aside, then took out his own.
The boy’s body carried a hint of danger, but his face was strikingly beautiful. He drew close, hovering over Shen Yanzhi, and asked, “Shall we continue?”
Shen Yanzhi’s heart rate quickened involuntarily. He averted his gaze.
“…Mm.”
“I’ll be gentle…”
Zhou Wu kissed his eyes.
These days, they mostly did it to relieve Shen Yanzhi’s needs. Zhou Wu was extremely restrained.
…
Some time later, they went in for the final Prenatal Checkup.
The results were reassuring: the Baby’s vitals were perfectly healthy in every way, and Shen Yanzhi’s body had been tuned to optimal condition.
Afterward, they checked straight into the Hospital Top-Floor Private Suite, quietly awaiting the new life.
During this waiting period, Shen Yanzhi noticed Zhou Wu often staring at the latest 4D Ultrasound photo, lost in thought.
“What are you always looking at?” Shen Yanzhi finally asked.
Zhou Wu looked up. “I’m a little nervous.”
At first, Shen Yanzhi suspected it was just another line Zhou Wu had cooked up to placate him. But soon enough, he realized Zhou Wu was dead serious.
Any slight movement from Shen Yanzhi—even just rolling over in bed—and Zhou Wu would drop everything, hurry to his side, and check on what he needed.
Zhou Wu would often sit quietly beside him too, gently placing a hand on his swollen belly, his gaze fixed there.
By all rights, 05 only needed to execute his mission perfectly and never question any of the Main God’s arrangements.
But he couldn’t help thinking about it, over and over.
Is this child real? Or was it merely created out of necessity for the mission?
If it’s real, then it truly is his child?
But he’s a system.
Does he even possess stable genetic material?
All rights to explanation belong to the Main God. In truth, he doesn’t fully understand it himself.
He only knows that some of his outward traits can shift and change, allowing him to traverse worlds without any hindrance.
Could his child really turn out fine?
But if this baby only exists because of the mission…
Then it probably couldn’t be brought into the world.
Would Shen Yanzhi suffer a difficult labor, or would the child suddenly perish? Zhou Wu couldn’t help growing restless with worry.
Shen Yanzhi watched his tension and found it somewhat amusing. “Relax, it’s not you giving birth.” The words eased Zhou Wu’s nerves completely.
The two of them stayed at the hospital for a full day.
Labor pains began right on schedule.
Though the pain was intense, it hadn’t yet reached the level that would make Shen Yanzhi lose his composure.
When he was wheeled into the delivery room, Zhou Wu insisted on staying by his side.
Shen Yanzhi actually resisted the idea a little. He felt the process wasn’t dignified—in fact, it was downright embarrassing—and he didn’t want Zhou Wu to witness it.
But the usually meek and compliant Zhou Wu proved stubbornly resolute in that moment, gripping his hand tightly and refusing to let go. “Let me stay with you. With me here… things might go a little smoother.”
In the end, Shen Yanzhi had no further chance to dwell on it. The fierce, unfamiliar agony consumed every one of his senses.
Yet amid each wave of torment, he could clearly feel a pair of warm, steady hands clasped firmly around his own, conveying silent strength.
During the most grueling stretches, he even sensed a gentle embrace drawing him close, letting him press his sweat-soaked forehead against the other’s shoulder and neck.
That familiar, sweetly refreshing fruit fragrance of pheromones enveloped him softly, like the gentlest cushion. It strangely soothed his frayed nerves and quelled every dark mood, making the otherwise unbearable pain just a touch more tolerable.
The entire birthing process unfolded far more smoothly than anyone could have imagined. In merely half an hour, a resounding cry heralded the arrival of new life.
When the nurse brought over the cleaned and swaddled infant, Zhou Wu froze in place.
He took the bundle from the nurse’s hands as if his system had glitched, moving like a lagging computer.
Cradling that soft little form with utmost care, he stared without blinking at the wrinkled tiny face, as though deciphering the most intricate puzzle in existence.
The exhausted Shen Yanzhi watched him, barely suppressing a laugh—though it would have hurt too much to let it out.
“Come here.”
Only then did Zhou Wu snap out of it. He hurried over to show Shen Yanzhi. Glancing at the child, Shen Yanzhi thought:
Newborns weren’t exactly easy on the eyes… No, truth be told, it was a bit ugly.
Still, the baby’s complexion was rosy and healthy. And in Zhou Wu’s arms, it didn’t cry at all.
With that weight lifted from his heart, Shen Yanzhi closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep moments later.
【Are you there?】
Zhou Wu spun in circles with the baby in his arms, pounding out messages to the Main God more frantically than ever before.
【Main God?】
【I have a child!】
From the depths of that vast, ethereal sea of consciousness, it took a long while before a voice responded—calm and emotionless, yet carrying absolute authority:
“You don’t like it?”
【No, it’s not that, I…】 Zhou Wu clutched the baby tighter on instinct, terrified the Main God might make it vanish in the next instant.
【But how could I possibly have a child?】
He struggled to process an event that defied his programming. The Main God’s reply, however, was strikingly straightforward.
“I decided you would, so you do.”
“…” Zhou Wu fell silent.
Of course. For the Main God, decreeing existence was merely a fleeting thought.
But why? The Main God never meddled lightly in the minutiae of Small Worlds—mere meaningless ripples to an eternal deity.
So why had the Main God intervened so frequently in his missions lately?
Even… granting him a child?
He shouldn’t question it. The Main God surely had his reasons, etched into his core code as an unbreakable directive.
Yet an event this monumental was impossible to accept without a ripple of emotion.
【Then… once the mission ends, I won’t see him again?】
A faint trace of sorrow slipped into 05’s words.
【When he grows up… could he become a system?】
“…”
“No.” The Main God’s refusal brooked no argument, though he added moments later:
“But you may choose to retire.”
“I will transfer this child’s soul.”
【??】
What about Shen Yanzhi?
Besides, he didn’t want to retire. No system ever did.
Hadn’t it been established from the start? A system’s purpose was to carry out missions.
The only ends were decommissioning or erasure by the Main God.
Since when was retirement even possible? Voluntarily stepping away felt like the worst kind of rejection—an erasure born of the Main God’s disdain.
It was as if the Main God regarded him from some distant void for an eternity before speaking indifferently once more.
“Get back to work.”
Zhou Wu: “…”
But the mission was already mostly complete. It was nearly time for him to leave.
…
That evening, Shen Yanzhi opened his eyes to find Zhou Wu still gazing at the baby in his arms.
Noticing he was awake, Zhou Wu gently placed the infant in the bassinet and leaned over beside him.
“How are you feeling?”
Shen Yanzhi pulled him into an embrace. “Not bad.”
Zhou Wu hugged him back, then glanced toward the bassinet. “The baby’s so good. Already fast asleep.
Thank you… for bringing him into my life.”
Shen Yanzhi brushed it off. “Mm.”
A brief silence fell, until Zhou Wu spoke again—his tone laced with cautious probing.
“Now that the baby’s here, could I… go out and start working soon?”
Shen Yanzhi’s expression darkened.
Zhou Wu panicked slightly. “I know you can give the baby everything he needs—the very best. He doesn’t need anything from me. But I… I still want to live like a normal person.
I want to learn, to work, to earn a salary that’s truly mine…”
“Do you have to bring this up right now?”
Shen Yanzhi’s impatience was plain. Zhou Wu bowed his head in disappointment.
“I’m sorry.”
Yet he clenched his fists and pressed on in a soft voice.
“But you probably don’t need my pheromones quite as much anymore.
I just want to know—relationships like ours… they have to have an expiration date, don’t they?”
Shen Yanzhi sat up slowly. “What?”
“I’ll always remember how much you’ve helped me… If I can, I’d like to work hard, make money, and pay back everything I owe.”
At last, Shen Yanzhi understood. Zhou Wu wasn’t asking to go to work.
He wanted to break up.
![The Passerby Made the Scum Gong Pregnant [Quick Transmigration]](https://i1.wp.com/dobynovels.com/wp-content/uploads/2026/04/qk-1.png?resize=151,215 "The Passerby Made the Scum Gong Pregnant [Quick Transmigration]")
