Chapter 18

Chapter 18

The back seat of the car was completely silent.

Huo Yanshen had Shen Ling leaning against his chest. Shen Ling's face rested in his palm—cold, smooth, with no warmth at all.

Huo Yanshen stared at that face, his mind couldn't help replaying last night's scene.

Last night they had still been on a video call. Shen Ling's face had color then. He'd been making himself a nest out of Huo Yanshen's clothes, burying his nose in the jacket to breathe in his scent.

But now those lively eyes were still—not even a flicker of movement. The little color on his lips was hidden under dried blood, and a thin trickle of dark red liquid was seeping from the corner of his mouth once more.

Huo Yanshen wiped the blood from the corner of Shen Ling's mouth with his thumb, then rubbed his face, trying to rub some color back into it. But no matter how many times he rubbed, that patch of skin remained cold, like a piece of jade that would never warm up.

"Shen Ling." Huo Yanshen called his name softly.

Shen Ling didn't respond.

Huo Yanshen called again. "Baby."

Still no response.

Shen Ling's breathing was so shallow it was almost imperceptible. His chest rose and fell so faintly that Huo Yanshen had to press his palm flat against it to make sure he was still breathing.

He was curled up in Huo Yanshen's arms, his collarbones making two thin lines under the bathrobe collar, rising and falling softly with each weak breath.

Suddenly Shen Ling's brows furrowed. His lips parted slightly, and another trickle of dark red blood spilled from the corner of his mouth, running down his jaw and into the spaces between Huo Yanshen's fingers.

Huo Yanshen's pupils shrank sharply. "Baby, baby, don't do this to me..."

He patted Shen Ling's face gently. His face swayed slightly against his palm, and more blood dripped onto the webbing of his thumb, layering over the dried drops from before—new on top of old, layer after layer.

Huo Yanshen bowed his head and closed his eyes.

Last time on the yacht, he'd been gone less than half an hour when Shen Ling ran into Sun Yu, had a panic attack and curled up in the equipment room, scratching his own hands bloody. It'd taken days for him to recover.

And now, just a few days later, he'd left Shen Ling alone in Xuncheng again.

He'd thought Xuncheng was Shen Ling's hometown—not like the yacht, where predators lurked on every side. He'd thought Shen Ling's mood had been stable these past few days: the photoshoot was going smoothly, he was eating properly, and he would smile at him during their nighttime video calls.

He'd thought. He'd thought. He'd thought.

Huo Yanshen opened his eyes and looked at the blood on the webbing of his thumb—old and new drops stacked together. He wanted to slap himself.

None of his "he'd thought" mattered.

Shen Ling was someone who experienced hallucinations during panic attacks. He had witnessed it with his own eyes. And yet he had still left.

Huo Yanshen pressed Shen Ling to his chest, his voice squeezing out through clenched teeth.

"Baby... I'm sorry."

From now on, no matter what happened—even if the Huo family ancestral hall collapsed, even if the board fired him on the spot—he'd keep this person by his side at all times, never letting him out of his sight.

Outside the car window, Xuncheng's streets flew by at breakneck speed. The driver had floored it. In the rearview mirror, Huo Yanshen's face was as dark as a stormy sea.

He looked down at Shen Ling. Another trickle of blood was seeping from the corner of his mouth, mixing with saliva and dripping onto the front of his suit jacket, spreading into a small dark stain.

Huo Yanshen wiped away the trickle of blood. After wiping, his fingers didn't move—they stayed pressed against the corner of Shen Ling's mouth, afraid he might bleed again.

He looked up at the driver. "Faster."

The driver floored it.

When they arrived at Xuncheng Central Hospital, Shen Ling was rushed straight into the emergency room.

Huo Yanshen stood in the corridor. Nurses pushed equipment in and out, the sounds sharp and piercing.

He leaned against the wall, staring at the ER door, not moving a muscle.

About forty minutes later, the door finally swung open.

A male doctor in glasses walked out, pulling off his mask while flipping through the chart in his hand. Huo Yanshen straightened up.

"Doctor."

The doctor looked up at him, recognizing the man who'd charged in carrying someone earlier.

"He's stabilized now," the doctor said. "Preliminary diagnosis is acute stress reaction with upper GI bleeding. The bleeding has been stopped, and his vital signs are stable."

Huo Yanshen buried his face in his hands and let out a long, shaky breath.

*

Shen Ling had a long, long dream.

In the dream, he had become a rabbit—pure white, with fluffy, soft fur. Four paws pressed into the grass. He'd never felt so magnificent in his life.

Suddenly, a rustling movement came from beneath his big feet.

He looked down. A small white rabbit was crouching by his foot—only the size of one of his paws—nudging the back of his leg with its nose.

Shen Ling hopped to the side. The little rabbit followed and started nudging again.

A round, plump little ball, like a sticky rice cake that had grown fur. When it hopped, its long ears flapped with a loud *pat-pat*.

"Stop following me." Shen Ling crouched down and bumped the little rabbit's head with his nose. "I can't take care of you. I can't even take care of myself. Go find some other big rabbit."

The little rabbit stumbled back two steps, but immediately hopped back, pressing its body against his front leg and burying its face in his belly, nuzzling him until it tickled.

Shen Ling looked down at this white ball that clung to him and wouldn't let go, both amused and helpless. "What's wrong with you? No matter how I shoo you away, you won't leave. What do you even—"

The little rabbit looked up.

Those round, ruby-red eyes stared at him intently, ears drooping, looking impossibly pitiful.

"Mommy... do you not want me anymore..."

Shen Ling's eyes flew open.

He was being held. Huo Yanshen had him wrapped entirely in his arms, a thin blanket over them both. The air smelled of disinfectant.

Shen Ling stared at the fluorescent light on the ceiling for a few seconds before his eyes slowly focused.

Huo Yanshen propped himself up and looked down at the man in his arms.

Shen Ling turned his head to meet his gaze.

His eyes were unfocused, pupils veiled as if by a thin mist. Shen Ling's lips pressed together, then parted again, his expression dazed—like he hadn't fully woken from the dream.

Huo Yanshen rubbed his face. "Bad dream?"

Shen Ling opened his mouth.

He clearly tried, but no sound came from his throat. He moved his lips again, but only broken "ah-ah" sounds came out.

He reached out to grab Huo Yanshen's sleeve, desperately wanting to say something, but no matter how hard he tried, only intermittent breathy sounds came from his throat.

Huo Yanshen quickly took his hand. "It's okay, baby. It's an aftereffect of the panic attack—no organic damage. The doctor said it'll recover in a few days. You just can't speak temporarily. Blink if you understand me."

Shen Ling blinked, and finally let out the breath he'd been holding.

But his eyes were still somewhat dazed. The aftermath of the episode was still clouding his mind. His gaze couldn't keep up with Huo Yanshen's face—it lagged, then slowly turned, staring blankly at Huo Yanshen's jaw for several seconds before slowly drifting up to meet his eyes.

After looking, he buried his face back into Huo Yanshen's chest, contentedly nuzzling his nose against the front of his shirt.

Huo Yanshen picked up the cup from the bedside table. The straw was already inserted. He held it to Shen Ling's lips.

Shen Ling glanced down at it, turned his face away, and gave a slight shake of his head.

He wanted to do something else, but he didn't want to be apart from Huo Yanshen for even a second, so he kept quiet.

Huo Yanshen set the cup back down on the bedside table.

Shen Ling pursed his lips and squirmed a little.

Huo Yanshen looked down and saw Shen Ling had buried his face in his chest, refusing to look up.

He pressed his palm flat against Shen Ling's lower belly, applying gentle pressure.

Shen Ling's whole body flinched, his back arching as a short, muffled grunt escaped his throat.

"Why didn't you tell me you had to go to the bathroom?" Huo Yanshen said.

Shen Ling buried his face again, playing possum.

Huo Yanshen sighed, threw back the covers, and lifted him up.

Shen Ling was nearly weightless in his arms. Huo Yanshen supported him with one hand under his bottom and the other on his back. Shen Ling clung to him, the hospital gown hanging loosely off his shoulders, the collar slipping down to expose half a collarbone. His ankles peeked out from the too-long pant legs—two slender, pale lengths dangling in midair.

His arms looped around Huo Yanshen's neck, his face buried in the hollow of his throat, his warm breath misting against Huo Yanshen's skin.

Once inside the bathroom, Huo Yanshen pushed the door almost shut.

He didn't set Shen Ling down. The tile floor was too cold, and Shen Ling still had wounds on the bottoms of his feet. He freed one hand to lift the toilet lid, his left arm steadily supporting Shen Ling as he clung to him, his right hand reaching for Shen Ling's waistband.

Shen Ling had a small frame. Held with one arm like this, his legs had no choice but to spread and wrap around Huo Yanshen's waist.

"Hold on tight," Huo Yanshen said.

Shen Ling's arms tightened a little more, wrapping around him softly to hold on.

Huo Yanshen found the drawstring on the hospital pants, pinched one end, and gave it a light tug—it came undone easily. Shen Ling's hips were narrow, and the pants slid down with almost no resistance.

When he was done, Huo Yanshen hoisted Shen Ling back up, straightened his clothes, and retied the drawstring with a knot that was just right—not too tight, not too loose.

The countertop was too cold. He took a dry towel from the rack, spread it flat over the chilly marble surface, and only then gently set Shen Ling down on it.

Shen Ling leaned into his shoulder, legs dangling over the counter's edge. Huo Yanshen turned on the tap, tested the water, and once it was warm, held both of Shen Ling's hands under the stream. He squeezed out hand soap, covered Shen Ling's hands with his own, and washed them thoroughly—from palms to between fingers, cleaning each one individually.

Huo Yanshen turned off the water, patted his fingers dry with a hand towel, tossed the towel from the counter into the hamper, and carried Shen Ling back to the bed.

He tucked Shen Ling into bed, pulling the covers up to his chest.

The moment Shen Ling touched the bed, he tilted toward Huo Yanshen, turning his face to look at him with half-lidded eyes. His hand emerged from under the covers, fumbling for Huo Yanshen's sleeve.

Huo Yanshen let him grip his cuff, sat down on the edge of the bed, picked up the burn ointment from the bedside table, unscrewed the cap, and drew Shen Ling's ankle over to rest his foot on his thigh.

Shen Ling's instep was narrow, the skin pale and delicate. The blisters on the soles of his feet had already formed a translucent membrane, and the applied ointment gleamed softly, like a layer of tender jelly covering the wound.

Huo Yanshen dipped a cotton swab into the ointment. When it touched the edge of the broken skin, Shen Ling's toes curled slightly. He let out a soft whimper, his brow furrowing briefly before relaxing again, his breathing returning to an even rhythm.

Huo Yanshen stared at the wounds on those soles, the cotton swab pausing in his hand.

"It hurt this much," he said quietly, "how did you manage to stand back then?"

No one answered him.

Huo Yanshen looked up—Shen Ling had already fallen asleep.

*

Three days later, Shen Ling finally came to.

His voice had mostly recovered. His throat was still hoarse, but at least he could form complete sentences, and his complexion was a bit rosier than when he was first admitted.

But being awake was one thing—getting out of bed was a whole other matter.

At nine in the morning, Huo Yanshen came out of the bathroom. The white blanket on the hospital bed was bunched into a small mound—Shen Ling was curled up entirely inside it. Huo Yanshen pulled the blackout curtains halfway open, and morning light spilled in, landing right on that little mound.

The blanket shifted, inching away from the light.

"Time to get up, baby." Huo Yanshen sat on the edge of the bed, reaching out to brush the soft hair from Shen Ling's forehead.

Shen Ling wrinkled his nose, eyes still closed, and let out an "mm." Under the blanket, his body curled up like a little shrimp.

Huo Yanshen glanced at the wall clock.

The nurse would come with his medication at 9:30. Shen Ling's medication schedule was precise to the minute—miss one dose and everything after would be delayed.

"Take your meds first, then you can sleep." Huo Yanshen lifted the corner of the blanket.

Cold air rushed in. Shen Ling grabbed the blanket back, mumbling: "Five more minutes..."

"Last time you said five minutes and slept for a full hour." Huo Yanshen's hand slipped under the blanket and gently squeezed the back of his neck.

Shen Ling found it soothing, and his eyes drifted shut again.

Huo Yanshen had no choice but to fish him out from under the covers. Once pulled up, Shen Ling immediately collapsed into his arms, as limp as a ragdoll.

"Sit up." Huo Yanshen steadied him by the shoulders and leaned him back against the headboard.

Shen Ling leaned against the headboard, eyes still closed.

The nurse came in pushing the medication cart and set the pill box on the bedside table—several pills of different sizes.

Shen Ling forced his eyes open, and the second he saw the pile of pills, his brow furrowed.

Huo Yanshen poured the pills into his palm, held the water cup in his other hand, and sat on the edge of the bed. "Open up."

Shen Ling pursed his lips and shook his head.

"Shaking your head isn't going to help." Huo Yanshen pinched his chin, pressing gently on his lower lip, and pried his mouth open just a crack.

Shen Ling let out an "mm," and Huo Yanshen took the opportunity to push the pills into his mouth, his palm pressed against his lips, worried he might spit them out.

When he brought the cup of water to Shen Ling's lips, Shen Ling managed to take a sip, the pills sliding down with the water, and it took two more gulps to get it all down.

Shen Ling's whole face scrunched up at the bitterness, and he stuck out his tongue to show Huo Yanshen. "So bitter..."

Huo Yanshen pulled a milk candy out of his pocket, unwrapped it, and popped it into Shen Ling's mouth.

As the sweet, milky flavor melted on his tongue, Shen Ling's expression slowly eased. He chewed the candy gently and started to slide back down under the covers.

Huo Yanshen set the empty cup on the nightstand and glanced over at Shen Ling.

Shen Ling leaned against the headboard, his head bobbing slightly, looking like he was about to doze off again.

His recent drowsiness had gone far beyond normal.

The doctor had said earlier that it was the body repairing itself after the stress response, and that sleeping more was a good thing. But it had been three days already, and Shen Ling was awake for less than ten hours a day. His appetite was poor, too—the half bowl of pumpkin porridge he'd been coaxed into eating last night had him feeling nauseous again this morning.

Huo Yanshen said, "Baby, I've scheduled a full-body checkup for you today."

Shen Ling groggily opened his eyes, and at the word "checkup," he froze.

He'd actually sensed that something wasn't quite right lately. Although these symptoms did resemble the physical symptoms from his previous panic attacks, something felt off.

In the past, his panic attacks had caused nausea, but not to the point where the smell of any meat made him want to throw up. He'd also been sleepy, but never to this extreme, where the world seemed to spin.

There was a faint unease in his chest, but he hadn't dared to mention it, and he didn't want to worry Huo Yanshen any more than he already was.

"Do I need a lot of tests...?" Shen Ling asked.

Huo Yanshen saw right through his little worries. He took Shen Ling's hand in his. "They're all tests you've had before."

Shen Ling whispered, "What if something bad shows up...?"

"It won't." Huo Yanshen said without hesitation. "But you've been sleeping too much and eating too little lately. I won't rest easy until we know for sure."

Shen Ling bit his bottom lip and looked up at him. Huo Yanshen met his gaze, didn't push him, and gave his hand a gentle squeeze. Their fingers laced together over the blanket.

"...Okay." Shen Ling finally nodded.

Huo Yanshen sought out the head of the hospital's internal medicine department.

"He's been drowsy, losing his appetite, and constantly nauseous and throwing up lately," Huo Yanshen said, standing at the ward door with the department head. "A doctor earlier mentioned it might be physical symptoms of an anxiety attack, but something doesn't feel right to me."

The department head skimmed through Shen Ling's medical records. "Let's run some tests—blood work, an ECG, and an abdominal ultrasound. We'll get it all scheduled."

Shen Ling was still yawning as he was wheeled away for the tests. He was really tired—no matter how much he slept, it never felt like enough. This morning, Huo Yanshen had to call him several times before he woke up, and even then, his head still felt heavy.

He told the orderly he could walk on his own, but Huo Yanshen had already lifted him into the wheelchair, not even giving him a chance to protest.

"I can walk by myself..." Shen Ling muttered.

Huo Yanshen didn't respond and pushed the wheelchair toward the ultrasound room.

The door to the ultrasound room opened.

"Family will have to wait outside," the nurse said.

Shen Ling was transferred onto the examination bed.

A woman doctor walked in—around forty, looking gentle and professional.

"For the abdominal ultrasound, just relax and pull your shirt up a bit."

Shen Ling dutifully lifted the hem of his hospital gown, revealing his flat stomach.

When the ultrasound gel was applied, the cold sensation made Shen Ling flinch, but he quickly relaxed.

The probe pressed against his lower abdomen.

At first, the doctor's movements were routine—the probe glided across his skin, and a blurry black-and-white image appeared on the screen.

Suddenly, the probe came to a stop.

The doctor frowned, moved the probe back slightly, and pressed down at a deeper angle.

Shen Ling felt a dull pressure in his lower abdomen, a faint ache rising from deep inside. He let out a soft breath.

"Feeling a little uncomfortable?" The doctor's eyes remained fixed on the screen.

"A little... bloated."

The doctor withdrew the probe and turned to look at him, her expression changing subtly.

"Mr. Shen, let me ask you a few questions," the doctor said. "Have you had sex recently?"

Shen Ling froze, a faint flush spreading across his pale cheeks. "Yes," he said after a moment, "with my husband."

"Have you felt any heaviness in your lower abdomen, nausea, or drowsiness?"

Shen Ling opened his mouth—he had all of those symptoms.

"D-Doctor..." His voice was still hoarse, coming out in short, broken breaths. "Is... something wrong?"

The doctor didn't answer right away. She pressed the probe back against his lower abdomen, this time scanning more carefully. The probe moved slowly across his lower belly, then suddenly stopped at a certain spot.

The doctor slowly turned to look at him, her eyes behind her glasses wide with shock.

"This is a medical miracle..."

Shen Ling: "...?"

"What's going on?" Shen Ling's voice shook. "Doctor, stop speaking in riddles... Did something grow in there?"

The doctor ripped the printed ultrasound report from the machine and placed it in front of Shen Ling, pointing at a dark spot the size of a fingernail on the black-and-white image.

"Mr. Shen," she said, "you're pregnant."

Shen Ling stared at the ultrasound image.

His brain felt like someone had hit pause—every thought ground to a halt in that second, then slowly began to reboot.

He opened his mouth. "...Oh."

—Thank God, it's not a tumor. That scared me.

Wait, what?

—Wait.

Those beautiful eyes blinked twice in confusion at first, then flew open.

"...Pregnant?!"

Shen Ling: ?

Shen Ling: !!!

Shen Ling's lips worked soundlessly for a long moment, only able to exhale.

Shen Ling raised one hand, gestured vaguely in the air, then let it fall onto his lower abdomen, his fingertips pressing against the slippery ultrasound gel, feeling a stretch of flat skin.

There's *something* in here?

"No—doctor, wait, I, I'm not okay." He began to ramble. "I might be hallucinating again—I always do this, I—"

"Mr. Shen." The doctor pressed his hand, looking him straight in the eye. "Calm down."

Shen Ling was struck by the certainty in her voice, his lips pressed into a thin line as he stared at the doctor blankly.

The doctor took out the probe again, put on more gel, and pressed it back on, taking three images from different angles.

She turned the screen toward him and pointed it out for Shen Ling.

On the screen, within the grayish-white image, in one dark region, there was a small sac-like shape, and inside it, an even smaller dot—sesame-seed-sized—but it was flickering rhythmically.

"See here? This is the gestational sac." The doctor tapped the screen with her finger. "And here—this is the fetal heartbeat."

Shen Ling stared at the tiny flickering light.

The doctor thought he might faint again and reached out to catch him.

Shen Ling licked his dry, cracked lips and asked, his voice barely a whisper:

"...It's—alive?"

The doctor said, "It's alive. The heartbeat's perfectly normal."

Shen Ling wanted to ask more questions, but the doctor had already turned the screen away, quickly wiping the gel off his stomach. "Don't rush. I'll go out and talk to our department head—your case is too unusual."

With that, she pulled the curtain shut and walked out.

By the time Shen Ling came back to his senses, two orderlies had already gotten him into a wheelchair, and he was still clutching the ultrasound report, its edges crumpled from his grip.

The ultrasound room door opened, and the hallway light hit his face again.

When Shen Ling was wheeled out, he was completely out of it, his expression somewhere between "where am I" and "what did I just hear," his eyes unfocused.

The ultrasound doctor came out from behind him and hurried off toward the department head's office, leaving just Shen Ling and Huo Yanshen in the hallway.

The second Huo Yanshen saw his expression, his heart sank.

He crouched down, lowering himself until he was eye-level with Shen Ling, gently wrapping both hands around Shen Ling's ice-cold fingers.

"What happened?"

Huo Yanshen asked quietly. "What did the doctor say?"

Shen Ling shook his head blankly, then nodded.

Huo Yanshen: ?

"Talk to me, sweetheart." Huo Yanshen gently rubbed Shen Ling's palm, his voice steady.

Shen Ling blinked, as if snapping out of a dream.

He grabbed Huo Yanshen's hand back. "Don't be scared, okay? Don't panic, no matter what..."

Huo Yanshen's heart dropped. "Whatever the problem is, it's fine—even if it's a misdiagnosis, that's possible..."

At the word "misdiagnosis," Shen Ling suddenly snapped to attention, realizing Huo Yanshen was thinking the worst.

He quickly shook his head and reached out to grab Huo Yanshen's sleeve.

"Babe."

His voice was still small and hoarse, but suddenly it steadied, as if he'd finally processed something and was now trying to reassure the other person.

"Don't panic... It's not bad news."

Huo Yanshen stared at him, his gaze unwavering.

Shen Ling took a deep breath and held up the crumpled ultrasound report to Huo Yanshen, and said, with utmost seriousness:

"Babe."

"I'm pregnant."

Huo Yanshen: "............"

==========Author's Note:==========

omg you scared me to death

The comment section will keep drawing red envelopes for you guys