Chapter 197 Where are all these intricacies?

Her tone was firm and left no room for negotiation, her eyes fixed on Qiao Wanyin. "This is a prescription I got through a friend. It's specially for preventing miscarriage and is good for the fetus. I went through several connections to get this medicine. It's not just some random tonic soup."

As soon as Qiao Wanyin smelled that odor, her head buzzed, as if a string had snapped. Her vision went black instantly, her stomach churned, and a sour, nauseating feeling rose in her throat.

She instinctively covered her mouth, trying to suppress her discomfort, her face turning slightly pale.

She lowered her head, her fingers tightly twisting the hem of her clothes. Her voice was soft but clear, each word carrying a restrained firmness: "Mom, the doctor said I'm perfectly normal now and don't need to take these supplements. I've been following the doctor's orders regarding my diet and sleep during pregnancy, and I can't just take any medication."

"You say you don't need it? What do you know?"

Song Yazhi frowned, her face instantly darkening, her tone becoming stern and aggressive, "How many places did I go to get this prescription? Not only did it cost a fortune, but I also incurred many favors. If you don't drink it, you're ungrateful! Do you think I'm meddling too much? Or do you think my words as your mother-in-law don't matter?"

That's not what I meant.

Qiao Wanyin shrank back, pressing her back against the sofa back, her fingers gently pressing on her slightly protruding belly, her voice trembling slightly, "Dr. Zhang said that all the indicators are stable at the moment, and the nutrition is also up to standard. Taking medicine may actually affect the fetus. It's better if we follow the doctor's advice."

"A doctor? Does a doctor have more experience than a mother?"

Song Yazhi sneered, a mocking smile curving her lips, her eyes filled with disdain. "I've given birth to two children and raised three grandchildren. Changing diapers, making formula, monitoring fetal movements—what haven't I done? Would I harm you? If I harmed you, wouldn't I be harming my own grandchildren?"

As she spoke, she pushed the medicine bowl forcefully toward Qiao Wanyin's hand. The force was so great that the bottom of the bowl slid across the wooden table, causing the medicine to spill out and splash onto the table, leaving a dark brown, indelible mark, like an unhealable wound.

Qiao Wanyin stared at the bowl of medicine, her throat tightening, her heart racing, and a stone pressing on her chest.

Since becoming pregnant, she has felt nauseous at the slightest odor, especially the strong, bitter smell of traditional Chinese medicine, which almost made her collapse instantly.

The medicine was bitter and strong, and its color was cloudy. Just the smell made her want to escape the room immediately and escape this suffocating sense of oppression.

She tried to steady her breathing, took a deep breath, and tried to make her voice sound calmer and gentler: "Mom, how about this, when Mai Dong comes back, we go to the hospital together and listen to the doctor's advice before making a decision? After all, everyone's constitution is different, and medicine can't be taken randomly, don't you think?"

"Smack!"

Before she could finish speaking, Song Yazhi slammed her hand on the coffee table with such force that the entire table shook, and the cups on it bounced up, making a crisp clattering sound.

"You still want to wait for Ophiopogon japonicus to come back?"

Her voice suddenly rose, sharp and piercing, like a knife cutting through the silence of the room, "You don't trust me? You think I would harm my own grandson? Who do you think you are? A daughter-in-law of the Fu family must obey the rules of the Fu family!"

She glared at Qiao Wanyin, her eyes filled with anger and reproach, her voice shrill and sharp, almost a roar: "Mai Dong isn't home, and you talk to me like this? Don't you have any respect for this family? Don't you have any respect for me as your mother-in-law? Who do you think you are? Doing whatever you want?"

Qiao Wanyin stood frozen in place, her body as if nailed to the spot, unable to move.

What does this mean?

Her mind was in chaos, her thoughts churning, as if countless needles were pricking her temples.

When Fu Li'an was at home, didn't she talk about it every day, wishing she could hold her grandson as soon as possible?

Every time they ate, he would bring it up, saying things like, "Our Fu family needs an heir," and he would hold her hand and say, "Wanyin, you'd better hurry up."

Why did her attitude change completely as soon as she left?

She had just seen her son off when he started making sarcastic remarks, as if the child in her belly was a burden or a nuisance.

Just then, a series of crisp footsteps sounded outside the door, approaching from afar and making a soft "tap-tap" sound on the cement floor.

Immediately afterwards, an overly sweet voice came from outside the door, as if coated with honey: "Auntie, is Sister Wanyin home?"

Her voice was soft and gentle, with a rising tone at the end, carrying a deliberate air of intimacy.

Song Yazhi's expression immediately changed. Her tightly furrowed brows relaxed instantly, and she grinned, putting on a warm smile: "It's Wanyu. Go open the door quickly."

Her tone was warm, as if the person she had been waiting for for a long time had finally arrived.

Qiao Wanyin slowly stood up. Her legs were numb from sitting for so long, and it felt like countless tiny ants were crawling under her skin.

She held onto the edge of the sofa, her steps unsteady, her knees weak, and her gait unsteady.

As she walked towards the door, she felt a tightness in her chest, as if a heavy stone was pressing down on her, making it hard to breathe.

She had a feeling that something was about to happen, and an ominous premonition was quietly spreading in her heart.

As soon as the door opened, Fang Wanyu stood outside with a bright smile on her face. Two thick black braids hung down her shoulders, swaying gently with her movements.

She was wearing an old-fashioned Lenin suit, the clothes were faded from washing, the cuffs and collar were slightly worn, but they were spotless, and the top button was neatly fastened.

She was carrying a bag of red apples. The bag was a bit old, but the apples were all plump, round, and shiny red.

"Sister Wanyin!"

She smiled brightly, her eyes curving into crescents. "I heard you were pregnant, so I queued for ages to buy these few pounds of apples to help you recover!"

Her voice was clear and crisp, and her tone was full of concern.

Qiao Wanyin forced a smile, her lips twitching, but the smile looked extremely unnatural.

She stepped aside, her voice so soft it was almost inaudible: "Come in."

But as soon as she got close, a strong scent of face cream wafted over her, sweet and cloying with a pungent artificial fragrance, as if it were trying to penetrate deep into her nasal cavity.

She couldn't hold it in any longer; her stomach churned violently, and she abruptly covered her mouth, turning around and rushing into the bathroom.

Fang Wanyu's sweet voice came from behind, tinged with feigned concern: "Oh dear, she's vomiting so badly? Auntie, do you think we should give her something to whet her appetite? Plum juice? Preserved plums?"

Song Yazhi snorted coldly, her tone hard and making no attempt to hide her dissatisfaction: "No need for that. Who doesn't get pregnant? She's so precious, making a fuss over the slightest discomfort! When I was pregnant with Fu Li'an, we didn't have so many rules."

In the bathroom, Qiao Wanyin leaned over the toilet, her fingers digging into the cold porcelain edge, her throat spasming intermittently.

She vomited until tears streamed down her face, cold sweat beaded on her forehead, and her lips turned white.

When she finally calmed down, she wiped her mouth, washed her face with cold water, and managed to compose herself before pushing open the bathroom door and walking out.