Ryan's POV: When I returned home from work, I heard clattering noises upstairs. My first thought was that Yura and my mother had gotten into another argument. I set my things down and rushed upstairs. "Yura, Mom, what's happening?" As soon as I reached the top of the stairs, I saw the mess in the room—chicken soup spilled on the carpet and pieces of the ceramic bowl scattered on the floor. Yura looked pale, and my mother looked unhappy. My mother frowned and spoke first, "I listened to you and kindly tried to take care of your future wife, trying to get her to have some chicken soup for nutrition. But she just smelled it and threw up, and even spilled the soup on the floor." "Mom, Yura's been having really bad morning sickness these past couple of days. Please be understanding," I said, defending Yura as I knew her well. "If the soup spilled, it spilled, no big deal." Seeing me stand up for Yura, my mother was unhappy. She frowned and said, "The chicken soup was something I had the kitchen prepare specifically for her, stewing for six hours. "I've carried a child before, and I wasn't this delicate. She's just being overly pampered. But even if she wants to act high-maintenance, she should at least consider the baby. How will it grow properly? What if the lack of nutrients leads to birth defects ... " My mother kept going, and I sighed, looking at her before comforting her, "Mom, it's okay. Medicine is really advanced now. If something was wrong, they would have detected it by now. "We go for prenatal check-ups regularly, so the baby will be fine," I said, patting my mother's shoulder. "Yura really appreciates the effort you put into making the chicken soup." Then, I gestured for Yura to speak. Yura immediately understood and said, "Mrs. Lindsay, I'll eat the soup once my morning sickness passes." I tried to mediate between the two, and my mother, not wanting to make things harder for me, glared at Yura. "You two can cook for yourselves. See what Yura wants to eat." After my mother left, I wrapped my arm around Yura's shoulders and quickly helped her sit down. "Are you okay? My mom's just like that—she doesn't mean any harm. Don't let it bother you.""I'm okay," Yura said with a chuckle. "I don't have an appetite lately. I accidentally spilled it when I smelled the chicken soup." I watched her with concern. If this continued, I was really worried her body couldn't take it. "You can't keep skipping meals," I said gently, holding her. "Not just for the baby, but for your health too. I'll ask the chef to make you some of your favorite foods." I told Yura to rest in the room while I went downstairs to keep an eye on the kitchen. I had the chef prepare a few of Yura's favorite dishes, hoping she'd manage to eat at least a little and regain some energy. After a while, I brought a large plate up with her favorite dishes. "Yura, these are the dishes the chef just made. Give them a try," I said softly, handing her the spoon and sitting beside her, watching her eat. Yura's eyes lit up at the delicious dishes, but just as she picked up her fork, ready to dig in, she suddenly covered her mouth. "Take it away ... I feel like I'm going to puke ... " These were all her favorite dishes, yet she couldn't bring herself to eat even a bite. My heart ached as I reached out to hold her. "Yura, you've been through so much during this pregnancy." This was my first time accompanying Yura through her pregnancy. I hadn't expected how difficult the experience could be for her. "Why don't you lie down and rest for a while?" I suggested, getting up to pour her a glass of water and placing it on the bedside table. Just as we were about to rest, the nanny knocked on the door. "Mr. Lindsay, there is a guest," she said slowly. I frowned. A guest? Who could it be, and why would they need me to go downstairs personally? Looking at Yura, I said, "I'll go check downstairs. You stay here and rest for a while." Yura struggled to sit up and said, "No, I'll go with you. I don't want to upset your mom again." Since Yura was so determined, I didn't insist on her to stay, gently helping her downstairs. In the living room downstairs, my mother was chatting warmly with a young female werewolf, holding her hand and smiling brightly. "Mom," I called as Yura and I entered the room.As soon as my mom saw me, she quickly pulled me over and said, "Guess who's here?" I was momentarily stunned before recognizing the female werewolf in front of me. "Are you Kristy?" Kristy Heart was my neighbor. We were childhood friends growing up together, but after she went abroad to study, we lost contact. "Kristy just returned from studying abroad and came over to visit me. Look at all the gifts she brought," my mother said with a smile. "Kristy is such a thoughtful child." She held Kristy's hand, praising her endlessly.