Double the Babies, Double the Chaos

Lingling had witnessed many reactions from her family before.

Shock. Confusion. Panic.

She had seen her mother burst into tears upon finding out she was getting married.

She had endured her father's long, weary sighs whenever Orm did something ridiculous.

She had watched Orm's parents dote on their daughter like she was the last glass of iced tea on a hot day.

But this?

This was next level.

Because the moment they announced they were expecting twins—

All hell broke loose.

"Twins."

Lingling's mother froze mid-sip, her teacup shaking in her hands.

Orm's mother gasped so loudly that the neighbors probably thought a crime was happening.

Lingling's father dropped his chopsticks.

Orm's father just stared at them, expression blank, as if they had just declared the end of the world.

"D-Did you just say... twins?" Orm's mom finally managed, her voice high-pitched with disbelief.

"Yes, Mom," Orm grinned. "Two babies."

Silence.

For exactly three seconds.

And then—

CHAOS.

Orm's mother immediately burst into tears.

"MY BABY IS HAVING BABIES—TWO BABIES—OH MY GOD—"

Lingling's mother clutched her husband's arm as if she were about to faint.

"I—I need to sit down—"

"YOU ARE ALREADY SITTING DOWN, HONEY—" Lingling's father groaned, massaging his temples.

Orm's mother leapt to her feet so fast her chair nearly toppled over.

"WE NEED TO PREPARE IMMEDIATELY—"

Lingling's father snapped his head up.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN 'PREPARE IMMEDIATELY'? THEY AREN'T DUE TOMORROW!"

"WE NEED DOUBLE THE CLOTHES. DOUBLE THE CRIBS. DOUBLE THE BOTTLES. DOUBLE EVERYTHING!"

"I AM CALLING THE FAMILY TAILOR. OUR GRANDCHILDREN NEED HANDMADE SILK BLANKETS!"

"I AM CALLING OUR FINANCIAL ADVISOR. WE NEED TO OPEN INVESTMENT FUNDS FOR BOTH BABIES NOW."

Lingling, watching both sets of parents spiral simultaneously, simply leaned back in her chair, sipping her tea calmly.

"Babe," Orm whispered, grinning. "Are we rich or royalty?"

"Both," Lingling muttered.

"SHE CAN'T LIFT A FINGER FOR THE REST OF THIS PREGNANCY!"

Orm's mom suddenly spun toward Lingling, pointing at her like she was issuing a royal decree.

"YOU! YOU WILL TAKE CARE OF HER LIKE SHE'S MADE OF GOLD!"

Lingling tilted her head, unimpressed.

"I already do."

"GOOD! KEEP IT UP!"

"MOM, PLEASE—" Orm groaned. "I am fine. Lingling already treats me like I'm the most precious thing on the planet."

"BECAUSE YOU ARE!"

Orm's parents immediately nodded in fierce agreement.

Lingling's mother dabbed her eyes with a napkin.

"We must do everything to make sure this pregnancy is as smooth as possible," she declared, voice still trembling.

Lingling's father sighed, clearly resigned.

"This is going to get out of hand, isn't it?"

"Oh, absolutely."

Orm's father, who had been completely silent this whole time, suddenly stood up, adjusting his tie.

"I'm going to buy property," he announced.

Everyone paused.

"Excuse me?" Lingling asked, blinking.

"They need a vacation home. A bigger one. Maybe something with a lake view."

"Dad, we literally have a house—"

"NO. It needs to be bigger. With security. And a spa. And a private chef in case you crave anything at odd hours!"

Orm beamed. "Ooooh, I like that plan!"

Lingling, staring at her family as they spiraled deeper into madness, sighed, leaning into her hand.

"This is going to be a nightmare."

Orm nudged her. "A luxurious nightmare."

Lingling sighed again.

It took exactly twenty minutes.

Twenty minutes of absolute chaos.

Within that short span of time, both mothers had declared an all-out war on the baby market. There was no hesitation, no second-guessing—just relentless purchasing power and the unshakable belief that no amount of baby essentials was ever "too much."

Lingling's Mother's Purchases:

✔ Five cribs ("Just in case they need extra ones in different rooms! You never know!")

✔ Matching designer outfits for newborns ("They must be stylish from birth. Appearances matter.")

✔ A customized baby stroller with gold accents ("Elegance must be maintained at all times.")

Orm's Mother's Purchases:

✔ Enough baby bottles to last three years ("Babies drink a lot! We must be prepared!")

✔ Hand-stitched baby blankets from Europe ("Only the finest for my grandchildren!")

✔ A full nursery furniture set ("Comfort is key! And we'll need multiple themes for different moods.")

The online carts were overflowing.

Delivery dates were scheduled.

The total bill? Frightening.

Lingling's father, watching the number climb at an alarming rate, gripped his teacup like it was his last tether to sanity. Slowly, he leaned toward Orm's father, voice hushed and grim.

"They're going to bankrupt us."

Orm's father, eyes glued to the ever-growing list of purchases, slowly nodded.

"We must accept our fate."

Neither of them even tried to stop the madness.

It was too late.

Their wives had activated full "grandmother mode," and no force in the universe—not logic, not reason, not even the fact that the twins weren't due for months—could stop them now.

And with that, the financial obliteration of both families was sealed.

Just as the shopping madness reached its peak—

Just as both grandmothers were one purchase away from ordering a custom-built baby castle—

The door burst open.

And in stormed Freen and Becky, radiating pure chaos.

"TWINS?!"

Freen's grin was instant. She strode across the room like she had just been promoted to Co-President of Mischief, Inc., slinging an arm around Orm's shoulders with all the confidence of a proud older sibling.

"Oh, hell yeah. We are going to be the best aunties in the world."

"Absolutely." Becky nodded, arms crossed, her eyes already glimmering with future mischief. "We will spoil them rotten."

Lingling, who had been silently sipping her tea, turned her head slowly.

Her gaze was sharp.

Her tone? Authoritative.

"No spoiling."

Becky gasped.

Dramatically.

Like someone had just personally insulted her entire existence.

"EXCUSE ME?!"

Lingling remained firm.

"They need to be raised properly, not turned into tiny chaos goblins."

Freen snorted, shaking her head.

She gestured broadly at Orm—who, at that very moment, was attempting to balance a mango slice on her belly like some kind of fruit ninja.

Then she looked back at Lingling.

"They are literally Orm's children."

Lingling grimaced.

She wanted to argue.

She wanted to deny it.

But deep, deep down—

She knew they were right.

Lingling let out a suffering sigh, rubbing her temples.

"God, you're right."

Orm beamed, absolutely delighted.

"They're going to be so much fun."

Becky smirked. "Oh, don't worry, Ling. If they inherit Orm's energy, we'll make sure they reach maximum chaos potential."

Lingling's entire body tensed.

"No, absolutely not—"

"Too late," Freen grinned, finger-gunning like a menace. "We've already claimed Best Auntie Titles™."

And just like that—

Lingling knew.

She had lost.