The infrastructure on the geothermal planet was severely lacking. Due to the extreme cold, many structures were impossible to build, and the network signal was even worse. In the small town where Cheng Jin lived, there wasn’t even full network coverage yet.

Cheng Xu had applied for a network signal for the town, but it took a whole half month before anyone arrived to install a small signal tower. By then, Cheng Jin had already knitted some small items and taken photos, just waiting for the network to go live so he could open his own shop and post them as samples. However, when the network was finally connected, the painfully slow internet speed still frustrated him. He muttered under his breath, “Why is it so slow…”

“There’s nothing we can do about it. Our planet doesn’t have the funds, so the internet speed allocated to us is quite low,” the installer explained good-naturedly. “Also, coverage is limited. Only about one-third of the families on the geothermal planet can even use computers. Some areas barely have basic electricity and heating.”

Cheng Xu frowned slightly and said, “But I thought every planet had a budget for infrastructure. With such a small population here, it shouldn’t be this difficult to meet basic needs.”

“That’s because the largest expense goes into reinforcing homes for safety,” the installer replied with a smile as he picked up his tool bag. “Alright, I have to go now. If I miss the snowmobile, I’ll have to walk back. If there’s any issue with the network, you can contact me using the newly installed phone.”

After seeing the installer off, Cheng Jin returned to find Cheng Xu setting up the virtual shop. Despite the slow internet speed, it was still functioning. Curious, Cheng Jin asked, “Brother, what did he mean by fortifying the houses? Our house is made of wood, and the maintenance costs don’t seem high, right?”

“I’m not too sure myself,” Cheng Xu replied, eyes focused on the computer screen. “What should we name the online shop?”

Setting up the virtual shop wasn’t difficult, but due to the poor internet speed, it took them the entire day. The shop didn’t require real-name verification, and there were various payment methods available. Cheng Xu opted to receive payments via mailed cash, explaining, “It’s slower, but more convenient for us since the bank is far away, and the mail carrier passes by every day.”

Even on this remote planet, global logistics were convenient, though slightly delayed.

However, the online shop didn’t gain traction right away. Perhaps because it was new or lacked recognition, inquiries were sparse. Yet, Cheng Jin wasn’t short on orders. After Cheng Zhen had worn the scarf and gloves Cheng Jin knitted in public, many people took notice. The prices weren’t high, but it was a promising start for Cheng Jin, allowing him to practice new knitting techniques he had learned from books his grandmother had given him.

As Cheng Jin’s small business slowly began to take off, Cheng Xu’s career was also progressing. One day, Cheng Xu started working for the city center’s propaganda department, in an office next to the old man who handled their residency paperwork. His job? Boosting the geothermal planet’s economy.

Cheng Jin was surprised when he heard the news and asked, “Brother, why did you take that job? It sounds kind of vague—boosting the economy here? But it’s all ice and snow, and the transportation isn’t exactly convenient. How will you do it?”

Cheng Xu smiled. “Those are precisely the problems I’ll need to solve. It’s true the planet is covered in ice and snow, but we have unique resources that other planets don’t. The plan is to capitalize on those. I’m not exactly working for the government, though; I’m collaborating with them and investing my skills.”

“Unique resources?” Cheng Jin glanced out the window at the falling snow. “Like what? Does snow count as a resource?”

“Why not? Ice sculpture festivals, ski resorts—anything done well could attract tourists. Plus, we have the hot springs.”

At the mention of hot springs, Cheng Jin’s eyes lit up. Stretching, he smiled and said, “The hot springs here are indeed amazing. Soaking in them every day is so relaxing. Brother, let’s go soak together now? You’ve been out and about so much lately, and it’s been a while since we soaked together.”

Cheng Xu smiled indulgently. “Alright, help me grab some clothes.”

Cheng Jin quickly fetched clothes for both of them, and they headed to the backyard. The weather was freezing, but the area around the hot spring was warm and cozy. Steam rose from the hot water, and the falling snow created a magical scene.

Since it was their private backyard, they weren’t worried about being seen. They quickly undressed. The cold bit at their skin, making Cheng Jin shiver as he hurried into the water. As the warmth enveloped him, he felt the tension ease from his body. But just as he was about to fully immerse himself, he noticed his brother staring at him—more specifically, at his abdomen.

Puzzled, Cheng Jin followed Cheng Xu’s gaze and saw his slightly protruding belly. Flushing, he quickly covered it with his hands. “Maybe it’s because I’ve finally been eating proper meals again… I must’ve overeaten,” he said, embarrassed.

Cheng Xu’s expression remained tense. “No other symptoms?”

Cheng Jin blinked. “No, not really.”

Cheng Xu’s voice tightened as he continued, “I remember you’ve been unusually sleepy lately.”

Sinking deeper into the hot water, Cheng Jin sighed contentedly. “Maybe I’ve finally adjusted to the cold here. The heating is better, and with the hot water bottle you bought me, my bed’s no longer freezing. So, I’ve been sleeping longer. Why do you ask, Brother?”

Cheng Xu stared at him for a moment before asking softly, “Xiao Jin, have you considered that you might be… pregnant?”

Cheng Jin froze, feeling as if lightning had struck him. His body went rigid, and his heart pounded violently.

Pregnant? Him, pregnant?

His hand instinctively moved to his belly. The skin felt warm under his palm, but he couldn’t feel anything inside. Cheng Jin hadn’t completely dismissed the possibility of pregnancy—after all, as a “New Female,” it was within the realm of possibility. He had even fantasized about getting pregnant years ago, hoping that it would change his husband’s attitude toward him. He had tried everything, hoping Lu Tao would make him pregnant.

But after realizing his feelings for Lu Tao were hopeless, he had actively avoided such situations. He had spent months with his second personality and taken birth control pills. It shouldn’t be possible…

Cheng Jin’s shock slowly gave way to panic. After a long silence, he rasped, “I shouldn’t be…”

“But the symptoms are there, aren’t they?” Cheng Xu’s gaze didn’t waver. “You’ve never been one to gain weight, no matter how much you eat. We’ve been eating nutritious soups for a month, and we’ve only just returned to regular meals a few days ago—mostly vegetarian. That wouldn’t have caused your belly to grow.”

Cheng Jin shook his head, still trying to deny the possibility. “But I really ate a lot at lunch. Maybe I’m just bloated…”

“Lunch was five hours ago. By now, the food should be digested,” Cheng Xu said calmly, moving closer. “Get dressed, I’ll take you to the hospital. If you’re pregnant, soaking in the hot spring isn’t safe.”

There were no public snowmobiles in the evening, but Cheng Xu had been assigned a private one. The ride to the town hospital was silent. Cheng Jin’s mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, the word “pregnant” echoing in his head.

Panic gripped him. If he really was pregnant, he couldn’t give birth to the child unless he remarried Lu Tao.

The Imperial Planet’s marriage laws applied universally, and children born out of wedlock were strictly regulated. Unwed childbirth was a criminal offense. If a pregnancy was discovered post-divorce, the only options were to remarry or quickly find another partner. Otherwise, the mother would face imprisonment, and the child would be taken away.

Moreover, abortion was globally prohibited unless the fetus was diagnosed with a severe medical condition.

Cheng Jin was aware of these harsh laws.

As they approached the hospital, Cheng Jin’s anxiety grew. He bit his lip, and Cheng Xu noticed. “Don’t be nervous,” he reassured. “If it’s true, you still have options.”

Cheng Jin forced a smile. “Remarry Lu Tao, or find someone else to marry?” He didn’t wait for a response, adding, “Neither sounds appealing.”

“Remarrying Lu Tao is probably the best option,” Cheng Xu said, glancing at him. “You still care about him, don’t you?”

Caught by his brother’s words, Cheng Jin lowered his head, whispering, “I do care… I even thought about using a child to keep him tied to me. If we had a child, I’d have more control over the marriage. As long as I didn’t want a divorce, he couldn’t force me. But now… I can’t live with someone who doesn’t love me.” His voice grew thick with emotion. “Brother, do you know how painful it was? After seeing how much he loved me at first, enduring his indifference became unbearable… but he’ll never love me…”

He wanted to cry but held back his tears.

When they reached the hospital, Cheng Xu helped him inside. The place was nearly empty, and they were seen quickly. When the nurse learned Cheng Jin was there for a pregnancy test, she led him into the examination room. After he lay down, she scanned his abdomen.

Those few minutes felt like an eternity. When the nurse finally confirmed that Cheng Jin was over three months pregnant, he felt like the ground had fallen away beneath him. His hand instinctively moved to his belly again, emotions swirling in a mix of disbelief, shock, and confusion.