Eight years ago.
"Feifei, are you out of your mind?!" Yang Ruqin huffed as she watched her pregnant friend waddle up the staircase leading to the second floor of the library.
"If my brother sees you like this, he'll have a heart attack!" Yang Ruqin exasperated as she rushed up the Mahoney oak staircase.
Standing in the corner of the second-floor library was a woman who could give birth any moment now. Yet, she handled herself with grace and idiotic stubbornness. She allowed people to do tasks for her, whether it was putting on her shoes or tying her laces, but getting a book? She could handle that task on her own.
"Relax, Qinqin," Zhao Lifei mused as she raised her head from the large history book in her hands. "Everything will be fine. You panic so much, that it feels like you're the one giving birth."
