Chapter 274

Chapter 274: Showing Off Made the Old Bird Stomp—”Greetings” to His Ancestors for Eighteen Generations, So What If You Have Two Cubs

Chong Ming’s eyes deepened, his voice low. “They were born at least ten to twenty-five minutes apart. You’ve been with them the longest and you still can’t tell? What—do you need a scale to weigh them and decide who’s older?”

They were identical in length and thickness.

She hadn’t been ready at all—one second nothing, the next she’d spluttered and somehow popped them out.

And the moment they came out, they started fighting, twisting together in a wriggling knot. Who could tell them apart?

Jiang Tea Tea’s smile snapped shut. She went straight to bluff and blame, loud enough to cover her nerves.

“I’ve been with them the longest? You’re their dad. You haven’t even spent time with Old Two. You’ve seen Old One. If you didn’t bother to remember his features, that’s on you. How is it my fault I can’t tell them apart?”

“So I suffer through childbirth and I don’t get credit, I don’t even get pity—just a giant blame pot dropped over my head. Is that it?”

Chong Ming went silent for a beat, then reached out and caught her chin. “Jiang Tea Tea, has anyone ever told you? When you’re guilty, your voice gets even louder.”

Jiang Tea Tea hadn’t expected him to move so suddenly. With his fingers hooked under her jaw, he leaned in close, warm breath brushing her face.

She froze, then slapped at his wrist. “Who’s guilty? Who’s loud? What are you implying—are you trying to pick a fight?”

Panic ran up her spine. Was he testing her? Two cubs had popped out, and now he was suspicious?

What if he started wondering about the other three?

Chong Ming didn’t release her. He even let the slap land, crisp and loud.

At the foot of the bed, the two cubs gulped milk noisily. Their tails flicked once, then kept wagging as they drank until their little bellies swelled round.

“Chong,” Jiang Tea Tea ground out. “Let go. Right now. Don’t make me hit you again.”

“I’m not trying to fight,” he said. He leaned closer, voice rough. “It’s late. You need sleep.”

“Then get out of my face.” She pried his fingers off her jaw.

He set his hand on the mattress. “Premature cubs have weaker stomachs and smaller bodies than cubs that hatch on schedule.”

“A normally hatched cub sleeps from 8 p.m. to 6 a.m. and still needs at least three feedings.”

“But premature cubs need small, frequent meals. You can’t stuff them and you can’t let them go hungry—five or six feedings a night, minimum.”

“If I leave, are you going to handle that alone?”

Jiang Tea Tea’s eyes narrowed. “What, are you reminding me I don’t know how to raise cubs? Or are you threatening me—like I’d starve them to death?”

The Demon Realm had never starved a cub. If it came to it, she’d go into the mountains, catch little mice and bunnies, dig up rare treasures, and mix in a bit of magic power.

She refused to believe a great demon’s cubs needed milk just to survive. She had methods. Plenty of them.

One day they’d grow into dragons hundreds of meters long.

Chong Ming’s palm dropped onto her head, ruffling her hair until it stuck up. “I’m not saying you can’t raise them, and I’m not threatening you.”

“I’m saying this: it doesn’t matter if you can’t tell who’s bigger and who’s smaller. I can.”

Her eyes sharpened. “You can?”

He nodded. “Mm. I know which one is older.”

Jiang Tea Tea huffed, gaze drifting to the two little dragons with their bulging bellies. “Then tell me. Which is bigger? Which is smaller?”

Right now they looked like chicken wings stuffed with rice—skinny at both ends with a little rounded belly in the middle. They hadn’t even drunk that much. How were they already puffed up?

Chong Ming patted the bed. “Sleep. I’ll tell you in the morning.”

She didn’t move, still scrutinizing him. “Are you sure you actually know? Or are you just sweet-talking me?”

A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “I know. When you showed me the first cub, I looked carefully.”

“I’m good at remembering details. Same size, same length, same thickness—there are still tiny differences.”

“I asked you because I wanted to be absolutely certain. It’s already past midnight. Sleep. In the morning, you’ll know which is bigger and which is smaller.”

She’d been run ragged all day, then half the night. She looked spirited, but her nerves had been wound tight for hours.

She finally lay down, then immediately asked, “I already gave birth. You don’t need to sleep here with me anymore, right?”

His eyes warmed with mischief. “If you want me to sleep with you, I’d be honored.”

“Don’t.” She waved him off like he was smoke. “No. Don’t sleep with me.”

“Fine.” He nodded solemnly. “I’ll watch them finish their milk, then I’ll go sleep somewhere else. I won’t sleep with you.”

She still didn’t trust it. “Really?”

“Really.”

Jiang Tea Tea pulled the thin blanket up to her chin, one hand resting on her stomach.

The other three cubs inside her were silent as rocks, not so much as a flutter.

Not today, then tomorrow. What kind of mother gave birth like this—one at a time, spaced out by a night, even a day?

She stopped thinking. Blanket over her head. Sleep.

Chong Ming sat on the edge of the bed and watched her, then glanced at the two cubs.

They were absurdly small—thinner than his finger, only a little longer than it. The first had shocked him; the second had felt like someone had swung a club into his skull.

Even now, his head still buzzed.

Jiang Tea Tea kept throwing him surprise after surprise.

His gaze shifted to the four crates Cheng Yuan had left in the room.

When the cubs finished eating and squeaked softly, Chong Ming removed the bottles and stroked their bellies with his fingertips. Their bellies were narrower than his fingertip.

He rubbed gently until both of them burped, tiny and milky.

Then they flipped over in the U-shaped cradle and wriggled free, as if the concepts of Mom and Dad didn’t exist at all.

Under the blanket, Jiang Tea Tea had wrapped herself tight. The two cubs tried to dig their way in anyway—little butts in the air, tails wagging, front claws scraping, back legs kicking.

Chong Ming didn’t help. Watching them struggle, his lips lifted without permission. He opened his lightbrain and snapped a couple photos of the two golden cubs burrowing in, wiggling like tiny loaches.

Jiang Tea Tea wasn’t asleep. She was still worrying about the other three cubs—and dreading the possibility she’d deliver them randomly, anywhere, without warning.

She heard the blanket rustling and knew the cubs were trying to crawl in. She refused to deal with it. Let Chong Ming coax them. Let that Old Loach handle it.

She waited.

He didn’t.

In the end, she yanked the blanket up herself. The two cubs shot inside at once, aiming straight for her belly as if they wanted to coil around it.

“No.” She grabbed them and tossed them onto the pillow, voice turning icy. “Sleep. Or I’ll beat you both.”

Small and pitiful without the blanket, the two cubs immediately burrowed up to her neck, pressed against her skin, rolled over to show their tiny bellies—

—and went still.

Chong Ming’s breathing turned shallow. He watched the three of them for a long time, until Jiang Tea Tea’s breaths finally evened out.

Only then did he gently tug the blanket away from her head.

His mate lay there with two cubs tucked close, within arm’s reach—so near he could hear all three of their breathing.

—

“No—what is this supposed to mean? What is this supposed to mean?”

Zhong Li He’s warship jumped through multiple stretches of space. The moment it crossed from the Zhen Lin Empire into Da Xi Nation territory, he received the images Chong Ming had sent.

He opened them and instantly exploded, bristling like a porcupine as he snapped at Kong Que.

“Come here. Look at this. Look. What’s he trying to say? That Chong jerk wants cubs so badly he’s lost his mind—he photoshopped this. Photoshopped it to scam me out of red packets and gifts.”

“Tell me, does he have any dragon dignity left?”

Kong Que enlarged the image and studied it for five seconds before replying, respectful as ever. “Chief Executive, there are no signs of editing. This is the first photo taken on a lightbrain. Commander-in-Chief Chong Ming has welcomed two cubs.”

Zhong Li He refused to believe it. Absolutely refused.

“Kong Que, are you stupid? Chong Ming has four abilities. Strong, chaotic, hard to control—and even harder to reproduce with. Having one cub was already the Beast God blessing him, the Beast God favoring him. How could he possibly have two?”

“Think about it. Jiang Tea Tea’s belly was flat. Where does that look like eight months? Where does that look like she’s carrying two cubs?”

“He did this on purpose. He knew I’d already entered Da Xi Nation territory. He’s getting back at me for trying to steal his mate, so he faked a photo just to make me jealous.”

Kong Que cleared his throat. “Chief Executive, based on what the image shows, the two cubs belonging to Commander-in-Chief Chong Ming have no eggshells. That suggests a premature birth.”

“Judging by their length and thickness, each cub is definitely under half a kilo—around three to four hundred grams. Even two of them together would be under a kilo.”

“Miss Jiang Tea Tea is very thin. Carrying that much without showing is perfectly normal.”

“And besides—Commander-in-Chief Chong Ming isn’t an ordinary man, and Miss Jiang Tea Tea isn’t an ordinary woman. When the two of them come together and create life, whether it’s one cub or two, it’s normal.”

Zhong Li He scowled, irritation boiling over into pure resentment.

“Normal, my ass. Why does he get two cubs? Why is his mate so young?”

“Why does he get cubs in the middle of the night and send me pictures just to bait me? What, is he looking down on me? Or does he think I can’t find a mate—can’t lay phoenix eggs—can’t hatch a phoenix chick like Little Bird?”