** Six Months Later **
"Is a baby's foot really that small?" I stared at the socks I was knitting and wondered. "These barely fit over my two fingers. It's like … almost the size of a cat paw."
Bai Ye chuckled. His cheek was still pressed against my belly, and I could feel through the fabric a wide smile stretching across his face. "That little cat paw is quite energetic," he stated. "It just kicked me again."
Ever since he felt the baby's first movement a month ago, the legendary immortal master Bai Ye had found his newest obsession in life—listening to our baby kick and roll. Every evening while I sat in bed knitting little sweaters and socks, he would curl up beside me and gently lay his head over my stomach, counting the kicks like it was some kind of secret communication between father and child, and he could never get tired of it.
"She's kicking more today than yesterday," he added. "What does that mean?"