Chapter 29

Chapter 29

The nurse on duty thought she had misheard. "What?"

"An onion," Huo Yanshen repeated, his expression showing no hint of joking.

"A whole one. Raw."

The nurse was burning with curiosity, desperately wanting to ask what a man in a suit and tie planned to do with an onion in a hospital room. But his demeanor was too cold and intimidating, so she swallowed the question that had risen to her lips, turned around, and made a call on the internal line. Less than five minutes later, a kitchen worker brought up a round, plump purple onion.

Huo Yanshen took the onion, said thanks, and turned to walk back to the ward.

Shen Ling was still curled up on the bed, the IV drip falling drop by drop.

He heard the ward door being pushed open, lifted his eyes to glance over, saw Huo Yanshen holding something purple, couldn't make out what it was, and buried his face back into the blanket.

Huo Yanshen walked to the bedside and sat down on the edge of the bed.

Shen Ling felt the mattress dip, pulled the blanket down slightly, and was just about to ask where Huo Yanshen had gone when his gaze landed on the object in his husband's hand.

The purple onion lay quietly in Huo Yanshen's palm, its skin cracked, a small withered yellow sprout poking out of the top.

Shen Ling: "?"

Shen Ling blinked. "...Honey, what are you doing with an onion?"

Huo Yanshen didn't answer. He placed the onion on the nightstand, pulled out a wet wipe from his pocket, meticulously cleaned his hands, then picked up the onion again, gripping each half with both hands, thumbs pressing into the seam at the center, and snapped it apart with a clean, precise motion.

*Crack.*

The onion split in two from the middle.

The pungent, spicy smell hit his nose instantly. Shen Ling was only an arm's length away, completely unprepared.

He took a big breath in first, then burst into violent coughing, his whole body curling up from the coughing, the IV tube swinging wildly from the motion.

Tears poured out before he even realized what was happening—big drops rolling down his cheeks.

"Cough... honey... cough cough..." Shen Ling coughed and cried at the same time, his eyes stinging and red, nose running.

The moment Huo Yanshen saw the tears spill out, he stood up immediately, placed the split onion on the windowsill furthest from the bed, went to the bathroom and washed his hands thoroughly with soap twice, making sure every trace of the smell was gone before returning.

Shen Ling was still crying.

The physiological tears wouldn't stop. He wiped with the back of his hand, and more poured out right after. His nose was as red as Santa's reindeer.

Through tear-blurred eyes, he saw Huo Yanshen approach, and finally had a moment to piece it all together.

His husband had deliberately gone out to ask the nurse for an onion, then sat down by the bed and cracked it open right in front of him.

His husband was serious.

Huo Yanshen had genuinely cracked open an onion in the hospital room.

Oh no, his husband had lost his mind again.

Shen Ling covered his eyes, his whole body trembling—whether from crying or coughing, he couldn't tell which.

"W-what are you doing...!"

His voice came out soft and weak, with no bite to it.

Huo Yanshen pressed a tissue to the corner of his eye, soaking up the endless flow of tears. "Baby, it's good to let it out."

Shen Ling snatched the tissue and pressed it to his face, his voice muffled through the paper. "This onion is so gross, waaaah..."

Then he stopped short.

Because he really was crying. That "waaah" sound was coming out of his own mouth.

The thing that had been stuck in his chest for days seemed to have been uprooted by that onion, flowing out with his tears.

He cried even harder.

Huo Yanshen took the onion out and handed it to Chen Ping outside the door to throw away, then came back and cracked the window open a sliver to let the air circulate. He scooped Shen Ling up from the pillow and carefully wiped his face with a wet wipe.

Shen Ling's chin was held up, eyes closed, lashes still trembling slightly, tears clinging to them.

His nose was rubbed raw and red, his upper lip a mess of snot and tears. Huo Yanshen dabbed gently with the wet wipe, and Shen Ling let out a small whimper, too drained to pull away.

After the coughing fit subsided, Shen Ling suddenly noticed that the tightness in his chest had loosened a little.

He sniffled, wiped the remaining tear tracks from his cheek with the back of his hand. His eyes still stung a bit, but the sting came with an indescribable relief.

Huo Yanshen folded the wet wipe and used the clean side to dab the corner of Shen Ling's eye again.

Shen Ling let him do it without protest. When he was done, Shen Ling tilted his face up and glanced at Huo Yanshen's hands—the onion was already gone.

Shen Ling licked his lips, testing the waters. "...Honey, where's that onion?"

Huo Yanshen: "I got rid of it."

Shen Ling made an "oh" sound and inched closer to Huo Yanshen. The IV tube swayed with the motion, and Huo Yanshen reached out and pressed down on the back of his hand, stopping him from moving.

"What's wrong?" Huo Yanshen asked.

Shen Ling lowered his eyes, lashes still glistening with remaining tears. He said, "Can I smell it again?"

Huo Yanshen thought he'd misheard. "What?"

Shen Ling looked up, expression serious. "I think that thing earlier actually felt pretty nice."

Huo Yanshen looked at him, silent for a moment. "No."

Shen Ling wouldn't give up. "But you're the one who brought it over for me to smell in the first place..."

"Dr. Song said it's just a supplementary aid." Huo Yanshen pulled the blanket up, covering Shen Ling's shoulders as he tried to squirm. "You can't become dependent on it."

Shen Ling was wrapped up in the blanket, only his disgruntled face poking out.

"Then why didn't you say that earlier?" he grumbled. "You hit me with the onion first, made me cry, and then you tell me I can't rely on it..."

"It's fine as long as you feel better," Huo Yanshen said. "Now eat."

"I don't feel better enough yet." Shen Ling kept his eyes closed but still insisted on having the last word, his voice already getting drowsy. "Those tears were forced out by your onion, so they don't count... it's not like I wanted to cry on my own..."

Shen Ling turned his face away, his defiance plain to see.

Huo Yanshen didn't rush either. He raised the head of the bed slightly so Shen Ling could sit up partway, then took the insulated food bag from Chen Ping.

The food came from the hospital cafeteria. Wen Pei had called ahead and had a light patient meal made separately.

Huo Yanshen opened the lunchbox lid, and steam rose with the smell of the food.

Shen Ling smelled it, and his stomach betrayed him with a growl. He kept a determined look on his face. "I don't want to eat."

"You haven't eaten anything since this morning," Huo Yanshen said, scooping up a spoonful of egg custard and blowing on it a couple of times. "Eat the custard first."

Shen Ling pulled the blanket up to his chin, using it like a shield. "I want to eat onions."

Huo Yanshen: "..."

Huo Yanshen frowned slightly, setting the spoon back into the lunchbox with a soft clink. "Shen Ling, open your mouth."

His voice left no room for argument, and Shen Ling had no choice but to reluctantly part his lips.

Shen Ling's mouth was small, with a moist, rosy shine—he really did look like he couldn't eat much.

Huo Yanshen slipped the spoon in the second his mouth opened, and the egg custard melted the moment it hit his tongue.

And so Shen Ling was fed the whole bowl of custard, one spoonful at a time. He tried to resist halfway through but failed every time. Huo Yanshen put the lunchbox away and gave him warm water to rinse his mouth out.

Once Shen Ling was full, he got even sleepier. He lay on his side on the pillow, eyes half-closed, and finally fell asleep.

*

The prenatal checkup the next day went much more smoothly because it was at the hospital.

By the time Shen Ling was fully awake, he was already sitting in the VIP waiting area of the prenatal center.

The checkup went well—the embryo was developing normally, the gestational sac was in a good spot, and there was no issue with a low-lying placenta.

Wen Pei printed out the ultrasound report and handed it over, along with some reminders.

Keep taking the nutrients needed in early pregnancy on schedule. Emotional ups and downs are normal, but try to keep them as stable as possible. Morning sickness would gradually get better after twelve weeks.

Huo Yanshen then asked about his weight, and the nurse said he could go weigh himself over there.

Shen Ling got off the exam bed, pulled his pants back up, and walked over to the scale by himself. He felt pretty good today—even though Huo Yanshen had dragged him out the door again that morning, at least he hadn't thrown up.

He stepped on the scale.

Shen Ling looked down and froze.

He was a full five pounds lighter than when he'd first come back after being reborn.

He sucked in a sharp breath, his mind racing through what he'd been eating over the past period.

He threw up every day—whatever he ate came right back up. Huo Yanshen had gone out of his way to have the chef cook him nutritious meals, but Shen Ling would push the bowl away halfway through, saying he didn't want any more, or he'd finish it and then throw it all up.

Footsteps behind him got closer.

Shen Ling snapped out of it and quickly stomped his foot over the digital display on the scale.

He was wearing cream-colored cotton socks, his toes curling inward to cover the number completely.

"All done weighing?" Huo Yanshen walked up behind him.

"Done," Shen Ling said, turning around to block the scale, tilting his head up to flash him a very bright smile. "Husband, let's go."

Huo Yanshen looked at his overly bright smile, his gaze dark and heavy. "How much?"

"Not much," Shen Ling said, shuffling back nervously, his heel still pressed firmly on the scale. "Just... within the normal range."

Huo Yanshen didn't grab his coat.

He bent down, wrapped an arm around Shen Ling's waist, and lifted him clean off the scale. Shen Ling's feet left the ground, and the number on the scale was now fully visible to Huo Yanshen.

Shen Ling closed his eyes while in the air.

Huo Yanshen stared at the number, his brow slowly furrowing.

Wen Pei leaned over to look, then glanced at the medical chart in her hand. "That's five pounds less than last time he was here."

Held in Huo Yanshen's arms, Shen Ling let his legs dangle and sway, curled up into a tiny ball.

"Shen Ling." Huo Yanshen.

"Here." Shen Ling answered in a very small voice.

"Five pounds."

"...Maybe the scale is broken."

"This scale was just calibrated yesterday." Wen Pei delivered the finishing blow from the side.

Shen Ling squirmed in Huo Yanshen's arms, but Huo Yanshen tightened his hold to keep him in place, then turned to Wen Pei. "Does he need extra nutrition supplements?"

Wen Pei flipped through Shen Ling's blood test results. "His current numbers are fine, but the weight loss needs attention. If his morning sickness is bad, consider eating smaller, more frequent meals—small portions each time are less likely to come back up. He needs to make sure he gets enough protein. If he really can't eat, he can mix protein powder with water as a supplement."

Huo Yanshen nodded, then led Shen Ling out. "I need to go to the office this afternoon. You're coming with me."

Shen Ling had a bad feeling about this.

*

At two that afternoon, on the top floor of the Huo Corporation headquarters building.

Shen Ling was settled in the lounge next to the CEO's office. This lounge was originally Huo Yanshen's break room for overtime, but ever since Shen Ling got pregnant, it now had a more comfortable sofa, a cabinet full of blankets, and a small fridge always stocked with juices and yogurt Shen Ling could drink.

Shen Ling curled up on the sofa, covered with a blanket, scrolling through his phone, planning to wait quietly for Huo Yanshen to finish his meeting.

Just before five, the lounge door opened.

Huo Yanshen walked in carrying an insulated bag. He set it on the coffee table, unzipped it, and pulled out a four-tier insulated lunchbox.

Huo Yanshen: "Dinner. Finish it before six, and I'll come check on you."

Shen Ling was about to say something, but Huo Yanshen, as if reading his mind, had already continued.

"There's a camera in the lounge," he said, pointing to the small camera in the corner. "Don't think about dumping it out or hiding it. Your weight isn't up to standard right now—no more being stubborn."

Shen Ling: QAQ

Huo Yanshen: "I'll come get you as soon as my meeting's done, baby. Eat well."

The door closed quietly behind him.

Shen Ling sat alone in the lounge, staring at the neatly arranged meal in front of him, locked in a standoff with it.

He opened the lid and closed it again, laying the chopsticks in a cross, then picked up the spoon and set it back down.

It wasn't that the food was bad—it was just that during pregnancy, his stomach always felt all backed up, like everything he ate was about to come right back up the next second.

Shen Ling tossed the chopsticks aside, pulled out his phone, and opened the WeChat chat with Huo Yanshen.

He knew Huo Yanshen was in a meeting. Huo Yanshen had told him earlier that there was a very important meeting at five in the afternoon that would likely last over an hour.

In other words, within that hour, Huo Yanshen probably wouldn't be looking at his phone.

This was the perfect window to beg for mercy.

Once Huo Yanshen finished the meeting and saw all these messages, he'd definitely go soft.

Shen Ling tucked his legs up on the couch and started typing.

Babe: Honey.

Babe: You there?

Babe: You're not, right? You're in a meeting.

Babe: Since you're not here, I'm gonna start talking.

He sent a sticker of a little bunny typing on a keyboard, then officially started his performance.

Babe: Honey, I can't eat all this.

Babe: There's seriously too much food.

Babe: My stomach's only this big.

He made a tiny circle with his thumb and index finger, snapped a pic, and sent it.

No reply.

Babe: Honey, if you don't reply, I'm taking that as permission to skip the food.

Babe: Okay, your silence is consent. Silence is an attitude. Silence is the Cambridge of tonight. I've decided to put this lunchbox on the windowsill and let the wind eat it for me.

Shen Ling put the lunchbox on the windowsill, snapped a pic, and hit send.

Babe: [Image]

Babe: Okay, the window's open.

Babe: A whole meal just flew out the skylight.

Shen Ling thought he was a genius and fired off a few more messages.

Babe: With love, even water fills you up.

Babe: So I don't need that many carbs—I just need my hubby's kisses.

Shen Ling sent the messages, feeling super satisfied. He'd just pulled the blanket over his belly when his phone buzzed.

Huo Yanshen had replied.

Hubby must've softened, right?

Shen Ling picked up his phone all cheerful, but the second he saw the message pop up, he shot up off the couch.

Hubby: Babe, I was in a meeting just now—I had my screen up on the projector.

Shen Ling: "..."

*

Nope. He couldn't stay at this company anymore.

Shen Ling made a decision.

He was gonna escape.

He tiptoed to the lounge door, cracked it open, and poked his head out to look around.

The elevator was at the end of the hall on the left. All he had to do was walk over, hit the down button, and he could escape this floor where he'd just been humiliated beyond belief.

Shen Ling pushed the door open a bit wider, squeezed out sideways, and padded barefoot across the hallway carpet, tiptoeing toward the elevator.

The fire door beside the elevator swung open.

A guy with an earpiece walked out, spotted Shen Ling, and gave a little nod. "Mr. Shen, Mr. Huo said you need to rest. If you need anything, just let me know."

"I... just wanna go downstairs for some air," Shen Ling said.

The bodyguard replied politely, "Mr. Huo said you're not in a condition to go downstairs right now. He asked me to keep you company on the top floor. There's fresh fruit in the break room—want me to grab you some?"

Shen Ling looked at him. He looked back at Shen Ling.

Shen Ling turned around and got escorted back into the lounge.

He closed the door, leaned against it, and stared up at the ceiling with a sigh.

There was no escaping—the whole building was Huo Yanshen's people. He couldn't even head downstairs without being "escorted" back to the lounge.

He gave up and walked back to the couch, and to avoid the awkwardness of his earlier humiliation, he actually started eyeing the still-steaming lunchbox.

He grabbed the chopsticks.

Popped a piece of black cod in his mouth and chewed.

It was actually pretty damn good.

Not as hard to get down as he'd imagined.

After three or four bites, his stomach showed no sign of turning. The morning sickness seemed to have been temporarily calmed by the glucose drip from this morning. So he kept going—one bite of food, one bite of rice—and before he knew it, he'd polished off most of the box.

When he was about seventy or eighty percent full, he stopped, leaned back on the couch, and patted his belly.

Actually... it was pretty good.

Compared to the sheer mortification of wanting to crawl into a hole, trying to escape only to get blocked by the bodyguard, this lunchbox was the most comforting thing all afternoon.

The food wouldn't laugh at him. It would just quietly let itself be eaten.

The door slid open, and in walked Huo Yanshen.

Huo Yanshen sat down next to him.

"...Honey," Shen Ling called out.

Huo Yanshen looked up.

Shen Ling picked up his chopsticks and pushed the lunchbox forward slightly. "I've eaten."

"You full?" Huo Yanshen asked.

Shen Ling nodded. He was indeed full—his stomach felt warm and content, and his body relaxed as he leaned back against the sofa, not wanting to move.

Huo Yanshen pushed the plate of strawberries in front of him. "Eat two more."

Shen Ling reached out, took a strawberry, and bit into it. The strawberry was super juicy, and the sweet-tart flavor burst in his mouth. He finished one, then took another, and suddenly looked up at Huo Yanshen.

"That screen you put up... did everyone at the company really see it?"

Huo Yanshen's eyelids drooped briefly, then lifted again, his expression completely normal.

"The legal department said you have quite an imagination," he said.

Shen Ling: "..."

Shen Ling didn't dare ask for any more details.

Huo Yanshen tossed the tissue into the trash can, packed the empty lunchbox into the thermal bag, zipped it up, and set it beside the coffee table.

He didn't tell Shen Ling that his personal WeChat wasn't connected to the conference room screen at all—only his work account was linked to that device.

When Shen Ling had sent him all those messages, he already knew what was going through his mind. To get him to eat, Huo Yanshen had no choice but to resort to that tactic.

It worked like a charm. Shen Ling not only finished the meal but even ate the broccoli he hated most.

"Time to go home."

Huo Yanshen dragged Shen Ling away without batting an eye.

*

Two months later, Shen Ling had finally gained the weight back.

Shen Ling's morning sickness had also improved, easing up a little more each day.

Song Zhengqing's therapy sessions were also progressing steadily. Shen Ling could now get through forty-five-minute talk therapy sessions on his own, without Huo Yanshen having to wait outside the office watching the clock.

Dr. Song said his dissociative symptoms had improved noticeably. Though he still had a ways to go before full recovery, based on current progress, getting Shen Ling back to normal emotional expression—including crying—was within reach.

"What he needs now isn't more therapy techniques," Song Zhengqing said to Huo Yanshen over the phone. "It's a stable environment—somewhere he feels safe."

Huo Yanshen hung up and walked into the bedroom, where he saw Shen Ling sitting cross-legged on the bed, a jewelry design book spread open on his lap, a pencil in his hand, head tilted to the side as he sketched.

The lamplight fell on his slightly rounded belly, outlining his silhouette in a soft glow.

Shen Ling looked up and saw him standing at the door. "Babe, come take a look at this design draft. I've done a few versions—which one do you like best?"

Huo Yanshen walked over and sat down beside him.

Suddenly, Zhou Lin called, and Shen Ling put it on speaker.

Zhou Lin: "Mr. Shen, I'd like to nail down the exhibition details with you. It's set for the fifteenth of next month at the Hong Kong Convention and Exhibition Centre. We can arrange a car to pick you up, and accommodations and meals will be arranged to your and Mr. Huo's preferences. Your pieces will of course be the centerpiece of the exhibition, but as the designer, if you could be present in person, the effect would be completely different."

Shen Ling sat up a little straighter. "Be there in person? I thought I just needed to send the pieces over..."

"Sending the pieces works too, but Mr. Shen, you know yourself—your pieces are already very popular now. If we add the designer's personal presence to the mix, that's the cherry on top. My team and I discussed it, and we plan to include a 'Designer and Works' segment on opening day, where you'd face the media and guests and briefly talk about your creative vision. Of course, there'll be a ton of cameras there."

The second the word "cameras" came out, Huo Yanshen looked up from the armchair nearby.

His pupils narrowed slightly at those two words.

He'd been having dreams lately—dreams about his past life.

It was four years after his death. Shen Ling stood alone in the spotlight at a jewelry exhibition, surrounded by a wall of cameras. Shen Ling wore an ill-fitting suit, so thin his collarbones stuck out, while reporters swarmed him like sharks from the audience.

"Mr. Huo, were you the last person he called before he died?"

"After inheriting the estate, why didn't you pay Shen Guoliang support...!?"

...

When Huo Yanshen woke up, the back of his pajama top was soaked in cold sweat.

Shen Ling was just telling Zhou Lin "Let me think about it," but before he could continue, Huo Yanshen was already on his feet, walking over to Shen Ling, and holding out his hand.

Shen Ling looked up at him. Huo Yanshen said, "Give me the phone."

Shen Ling hesitated for a second, then handed it over.

Huo Yanshen pressed the phone to his ear, his voice calm and cold. "Shen Ling won't do the media segment. His pieces can go to the exhibition, but he personally doesn't need to face cameras. That's not up for discussion."

Zhou Lin was smart enough to know there was no point in arguing. "If Mr. Shen isn't ready to face the media at this stage, we can remove that segment."

"However, I do hope Mr. Shen can come to the exhibition site in person. The private viewing in the afternoon will have no more than twenty collectors and industry insiders—very relaxed, no cameras. This would be great for Mr. Shen's brand and long-term growth."

Shen Ling tugged at Huo Yanshen's sleeve. "Babe, I wanna go."

Huo Yanshen looked at him, silent for a few seconds.

"No cameras," he said to Zhou Lin, and also to Shen Ling. "I'll be there the entire time."

Zhou Lin immediately agreed. "No problem, I'll arrange everything on my end."

After hanging up, Shen Ling climbed off the bed and wrapped both arms around Huo Yanshen's neck, hanging onto him entirely. His belly pressed against Huo Yanshen through his T-shirt, warm and soft.

"Babe, you're the best."

Huo Yanshen lowered his head and placed a kiss on top of Shen Ling's hair.

Shen Ling didn't let go. Instead, he rested his chin on top of Huo Yanshen's head, hanging off him like a piece of laundry on a drying rack.

Huo Yanshen reached around and pulled Shen Ling off his back, setting him down properly, then studied his face carefully.

Shen Ling looked at him, confused. "What?"

The lines of his cheeks were slightly rounder than before, and his lips had regained color—a natural pale pink. His eyes were still large, pupils jet black, no longer hollow and vacant like when he'd first been reborn. They finally had the luster of someone well cared for.

Huo Yanshen's gaze drifted downward.

Shen Ling was wearing that cream-colored home T-shirt—the loose-fitting one he'd bought right after being reborn. But now the front was stretched into a slight curve. Shen Ling's belly was no longer flat.

A small bump pushed out from the line of his waist, stretching the soft cotton fabric taut.

This shirt was too small.

Huo Yanshen narrowed his eyes.

"Baby, go change into a different pair of pajamas."