He tricked the female lead into becoming his boyfriend, but then went on to criticize the male lead.

Pregnant in October and giving birth once.

No one expected that Sang Jiuning, who was eagerly anticipating the little boy, would receive the biggest surprise.

The grand and solemn full moon banquet was filled with guests, creating a joyous and lively atmosphere.

Sang Jiuning, dressed in a soft and comfortable dress, sat on a soft sofa, carefully holding a tiny, cuddly baby girl in her arms.

Beside him, Wen Zhaoci stood tall and straight, steadily holding another fair-skinned baby boy in one arm.

The two little ones have strikingly similar features, perfectly replicating Sang Jiuning's sweet eyes and inheriting Wen Zhaoci's delicate bone structure. They are so soft and adorable that they melt anyone's heart.

Sang Jiuning looked down at the soft, cuddly little girl in her arms, then turned to look at the young master in her husband's arms. Even now, she still felt a deep sense of disbelief and murmured softly, "I still don't understand..."

She frowned slightly, her face full of doubt: "Neither my family nor yours has a history of twins going back several generations. How did I manage to conceive twins?"

As soon as she finished speaking, Wen Zhaoci looked down at her, a faint smile playing on his lips, and said in a calm tone, "Not having the genes only proves that I'm capable enough."

Upon hearing this, Sang Jiuning rolled her eyes at him, feeling both helpless and amused.

Over the years, she had long been accustomed to Wen Zhaoci's unrestrained and flirtatious remarks, which were always flying around without any attempt to hide them.

After the twins were safely delivered, Sang Jiuning's life was completely filled with the two soft and cuddly little dumplings.

Her daughter was exquisitely beautiful, with features exactly like Sang Jiuning's when she was little—soft and chubby, her eyes curving into little crescents when she smiled. Sang Jiuning's heart melted at the sight of her daughter, and she decided on her nickname almost without hesitation: Little Lemon.

But when it came to her son's nickname, Sang Jiuning was speechless.

Wen Zhaoci, who was completely indifferent to everything, casually threw out a name, which directly determined his son's initial nickname: Little Mosquito.

Sang Jiuning was holding the tiny baby boy, stunned by the crib, her mind full of questions, truly unable to understand.

She frowned and turned to look at the calm man beside her, her tone full of helplessness: "Such a good-looking little boy, what name did you give him? Little Mosquito? That's too hasty."

Wen Zhaoci looked down at her son, who was lying quietly in the swaddling clothes with his eyes closed. Her expression was calm and her tone was casual and matter-of-fact: "Not sloppy."

Sang Jiuning was even more confused: "What's good about it? What's not sloppy about it?"

Wen Zhaoci reached out and gently touched the baby's soft little face with her fingertips, explaining casually, "Many people used to call me Old Mosquito, but not many dared to call me that to my face. Now my son is called Little Mosquito, which is just right."

Sang Jiuning was speechless after hearing this.

So you're just using your old nickname from years ago as your son's pet name?

This father is so perfunctory!

She just couldn't accept it. It felt weird to be called a little mosquito when she was a perfectly normal kid. She was sure she would be teased by the other kids when she went to kindergarten.

The more she thought about it, the more uneasy she felt. She earnestly discussed it with him: "I want to change our son's nickname, to something nicer and more normal."

Upon hearing this, Wen Zhaoci slowly raised her eyes, her gaze sweeping over the little one in the crib.

Other people's sons are gentle and sweet from birth, never crying or making a fuss. But his son was exceptionally fussy from the second trimester of pregnancy. He was restless in the womb. Although he disciplined him with a lot of discipline, he would cry loudly after birth. He was not as sensible as his daughter, who preferred to sleep after birth.

Wen Zhaoci had always doted on her daughter but not her son, and had a completely laissez-faire attitude towards raising her son. She casually replied, her tone serious and not at all joking: "There's no need to change him. If you really want to change him, calling him 'little rascal' is also appropriate."

Sang Jiuning: "..."

She remained silent for a full three seconds before giving up the struggle completely.

She finally understood that Wen Zhaoci really didn't intend to give her son a proper name, and was going to do whatever she wanted and be perfunctory.

Compared to the little rascal, the mosquito seems so much more pleasing to the eye.

Sang Jiuning sighed and gave in, "Fine, then let's call him Little Mosquito."

At least it sounds like a proper nickname.

Time flies, and before we knew it, the two children had grown to be three years old and of kindergarten age.

Sang Jiuning never imagined that the little mosquito's unfortunate life had only just begun.

There was a lively little girl in the kindergarten. When she first heard his nickname, she found it novel and cute, and gave him a new nickname in her sweet, childish voice: "Wengweng".

One pass ten, ten pass a hundred.

Within a few days, all the children in the kindergarten stopped calling him "Little Mosquito" and started calling him "Buzz."

The worst offender was her younger sister, Little Lemon.

Little Lemon was spoiled rotten by Wen Zhaoci, and she was incredibly temperamental, mischievous, and naughty. She was nothing like the sweet and caring daughters of other families; she was a complete little devil.

Since learning that her brother had a new nickname, she has completely opened the door to a new world.

She followed her brother around all day, her soft, sweet voice repeatedly calling out, "Buzz! Buzz buzz buzz!"

They shouted it over and over again, having a great time.

The house was filled with the cheerful, childlike buzzing of Little Lemon all day long, which gave Sang Jiuning a real headache.

Looking at her mischievous little daughter who bullies her brother every day, and her son who silently endures being teased by his sister without crying or making a fuss, she felt a headache coming on and couldn't help but complain to Wen Zhaoci.

"Look at your daughter, she's not sweet at all. She's not a sweet little girl, she's a little troublemaker. She calls for her brother 'buzz buzz' all day long, it's driving her son crazy."

Sang Jiuning sat on the sofa, rubbing her throbbing temples, feeling utterly helpless.

In other families, the older brother always gives in to the younger sister, and the siblings believe in and love each other. But in his family, it's the other way around; the younger sister bullies and teases her older brother every day.

However, Wen Zhaoci didn't take this seriously at all, and even indulged it.

He reached out and hugged the soft, cuddly little lemon into his arms, gently rubbing his daughter's head. He then turned to Sang Jiuning and said casually, "Daughters need to be pampered; it's okay if they're a little mischievous."

As for the son?

Wen Zhaoci glanced at the little mosquito playing with its toys not far away, looking tough and resilient, and said in an extremely casual tone: "Raise a son however you like, as long as he's tough and resilient and grows up well."

Sang Jiuning was speechless after hearing his extremely hypocritical words.

Indeed, fatherly love has different nuances.

The saying "a daughter is a treasure in the palm of one's hand, while a son is like roadside weeds" perfectly describes Wen Zhaoci's situation.

Time passes silently, and the seasons turn.

The days of childhood play pass quickly, and decades go by in the blink of an eye.

Seventy years have passed in the blink of an eye.

On a late autumn afternoon, the sunlight was gentle and soft, streaming into the room through the French windows, creating a warm and inviting atmosphere.

The old tree in the courtyard was covered with fallen leaves, and the house was quiet and peaceful, a picture of tranquility.

Sang Jiuning's hair was now completely silver, her hair was snow-white, and her face was covered with the gentle lines of time, but her eyebrows and eyes still had the same sweet and gentle appearance as before.

She leaned slightly against Wen Zhaoci's shoulder, whose hair was also white, and nestled against him with a relaxed posture.

From their first meeting on campus to the years they've spent together, she has never had the slightest regret.

She spoke softly, "Wen Zhaoci, it's so good to know you."

After a pause, her eyes crinkled into a smile: "Having you by my side in this lifetime has been truly wonderful."

Wen Zhaoci, standing beside him, though his hair was completely white and he was old, still had a tall and straight posture and handsome features. He was still the most eye-catching person in the crowd and was definitely a handsome old man.

He looked down at the old woman leaning on his shoulder, his eyes filled with a tenderness that had remained unchanged throughout his life.

He gently lowered his head and placed a kiss on her wrinkled forehead.

His voice was deep and husky, yet as gentle as ever, and every word was sincere: "Me too."

Meeting you, falling in love with you, protecting you, and walking with you through this life is the luckiest and most fulfilling thing in my life.

A youthful heart flutters, a lifelong bond grows old.

Year after year, with you by my side, is the best scene in the world.

(End of text)