Chapter 34 Accident

Two months later, Wen Youqing resumed his duties at the mansion, reading in his spare time and occasionally gazing at the saplings outside the window in the warm room. Life seemed to have returned to its established, stable track.

That afternoon, she lay on the soft couch in the warm room. The room was as warm as spring, the charcoal fire made a slight crackling sound, and the air was filled with the elegant fragrance of flowers and fruits.

She always felt very tired, so she pretended to take her own pulse. Just for fun, she put her hand on the pulse diagonally, and felt a clear pulse, but this was not the position of the pulse.

Wen Youqing was so frightened that he turned over and said, "Si Shi, go find a doctor."

Si Shi was also startled: "Miss, what's wrong? Are you feeling uncomfortable?"

Wen Youqing's eyes were filled with fear and trepidation as she said, "I think I'm pregnant."

The doctor quickly reached a conclusion. Amidst the constant stream of congratulations, Wen Youqing felt a chill run down her spine. Even she herself was struggling to survive, stumbling around like a frantic ant, and now, she had to shoulder the responsibility of another life? And in such a world! The absurdity, like a cold vine, instantly wrapped around her heart, strangling her breath.

"Miss, don't worry." Sishi wiped the cold sweat from Wen Youqing's forehead with a warm, wet handkerchief while muttering, with an inappropriate joy in her voice, "This is a good sign! It means that the young master is growing strong in your belly!" There was a pure smile on her round face, as if she had just experienced an event worth celebrating.

Wen Youqing closed her eyes, letting the warm handkerchief slide across her face. The burning pain and bitterness of vomiting still lingered in her throat. A good omen?

When they opened their eyes, Wen Youqing and Shen Zijie looked into each other's eyes through the beaded curtain. At that moment, they both saw the contradiction in each other's eyes.

Pushing through the crowd, Shen Zijie walked in.

He was still wearing his official uniform and a jade belt around his waist, and it was obvious that he had not expected this to happen.

"Let's all go down." Shen Zijie noticed that Wen Youqing was feeling unwell, so he took a few steps to the bed and naturally took over Sishi's position. His warm and dry big hand immediately covered the back of her cold hand.

His eyes wandered over Wen Youqing's face, his worry undisguised. "It's my fault. I didn't know Yangchang also had problems. Now... do you want to keep him?"

The air seemed to freeze, the congratulations just now disappeared, and only a suffocating silence filled the room.

"I..." Wen Youqing opened her mouth, as if about to say something, but her Adam's apple rolled with difficulty, and in the end, no sound came out. The hand that had been about to grab Chen Zijie hung in mid-air, then slowly, with a barely perceptible tremor, withdrew, hung at her side, and quietly clenched into a fist.

Shen Zijie's eyes were as complicated as a tangled ball of threads, showing confusion, hurt, a hint of uneasiness that he tried hard to suppress, and understanding - we can't even take care of ourselves, how can we support him?

After a long while, Shen Zijie spoke again with difficulty, his voice low and cautious, as if he was confirming something: "Shall we take it one step at a time?"

Wen Youqing avoided his inquiring gaze. At this moment, she just wanted to shrink into a corner where no one would disturb her, and keep this body and this ridiculous situation away from her.

The days dragged on like water-soaked cotton wool, heavy and sticky. Wen Youqing hadn't figured it out, and her thoughts were a mess.

Wen Youqing suffered from severe morning sickness. She vomited almost everything she ate, and her mouth was filled with that disgusting sour and bitter taste all day long.

The cooks at the mansion tried to create various light soups and dim sum, but most of them were sent away untouched. That afternoon, sunlight slanted through the carved window lattices. Wen Youqing vomited violently once again, slumped against the smoking cage, feeling a chill creeping into her bones.

The door was gently pushed open a crack, and Shen Zijie walked in, carrying a small celadon bowl. His footsteps were extremely light. The bowl was half filled with clear soup, and a few plump plums sank to the bottom, emitting a faint sweet and sour aroma.

"Zi Han," Shen Zijie walked closer, his voice low and cruelly gentle, "How about... let him bleed it?" He tentatively handed over the bowl, his movements a little clumsy.

The sun fell on half of his face, illuminating a small, inconspicuous dark stain on the cuff of his court robe - as if it had been hastily rubbed against the kitchen stove.

Two lost souls, nothing more… Wen Youqing lifted her heavy eyelids and glanced at the bowl. The alluring sweet and sour aroma was like a hook, stirring up the churning in her stomach. She frowned, subconsciously tilting her head, and uttered two words in a hoarse voice, "…take it away."

The motion of handing the bowl stopped mid-air. Shen Zijie's fingers tightened slightly, his knuckles turning white. He didn't withdraw immediately, nor did he try to persuade her again. He just stood there quietly, holding the bowl.

Silence hung between the two.

He seemed to have exhausted all the words of comfort, leaving only a stubborn companionship.

A long moment passed, so long that Wen Youqing almost thought he had left, before he heard a very soft sigh from him. That sigh was filled with deep fatigue and a kind of helplessness that bordered on resignation. He finally slowly withdrew his hand, not with joy, but with endless bewilderment. "Do you really want to keep him?"

"Stay him. I don't like the child, but I don't want to kill him." Wen Youqing forced a smile.

The bulge in my abdomen grew increasingly noticeable, like a growing secret beneath my clothes, weighing heavily. Along with it came waves of tightening aches deep in my back and waist, like countless tiny needles piercing the cracks between my bones day and night. During the day, I could barely bear it, but in the stillness of the night, the pain surged like a tidal wave, leaving me tossing and turning, unable to sleep.

In the darkness, Shen Zijie sat up silently beside him. He didn't turn on the light, but leaned over to her in the dim moonlight coming through the window.

Wen Youqing subconsciously shrank back.

"Don't move." His voice echoed in the silent night, deep and hoarse, slightly tipsy from just waking up, yet with a certain undeniable power. His warm palm, through the thin layer of my shirt, gently rested on the back of my hand, which was pressing against my lower back.

"Just rub it." He seemed to have sensed Wen Youqing's slight resistance. The big hand did not forcefully pull Wen Youqing's hand away, but with a soothing look, extremely slowly and tentatively covered the fingers of Wen Youqing that were pressing on the painful area.

The warmth of his palm radiated through the fabric, like a small piece of warm jade being ironed. He paused for a moment, as if to confirm my reaction, before carefully and gradually applying downward pressure. It wasn't kneading, but more of a continuous, steady pressure.

Shen Zijie's fingers were slender, and he controlled his strength very carefully. His warm palm pressed firmly on the most painful spot on Wen Youqing's lower back, bringing with it a strange warmth that could penetrate the skin.

The perfect pressure and heat, like a tiny warm current, miraculously penetrated into the stiff muscles and sore joints, bringing a brief and precious relief.

His tense body unconsciously relaxed a little in the darkness. Wen Youqing could even feel the calluses on his fingertips from practicing calligraphy or martial arts, creating a subtle friction as he moved.

Shen Zijie said nothing, simply pressing intently and silently, his movements steady and continuous, as if this was the only way he could grasp to alleviate their mutual pain. The moonlight outlined the contours of his face, and his tightly pursed lips revealed a hint of fatigue. However, in those eyes, which seemed particularly deep in the dark night, there was no impatience or perfunctory expression, only a quiet, almost clumsy concentration.

Amidst this drowsy warmth and constant pressure, a strange, faint pulsation suddenly emerged from deep within her abdomen, like a small, vital bubble that gently nudged Wen Youqing's belly.

When Wen Youqing felt the fetal movement for the first time, her body suddenly stiffened and even her breathing stopped.

The hand covering the back of Wen Youqing's hand, pressing steadily, froze at the same moment as if it had been electrocuted! All movements stopped.

Wen Youqing could clearly feel the muscles beneath Shen Zijie's palm tense instantly, even trembling slightly. The steady warmth vanished, replaced by an intense, uncontrollable throbbing sensation, clearly transmitted through the skin of his hand—Shen Zijie's fingers were trembling violently!

Shen Zijie felt as if he was scalded, or hit by a huge, indescribable object. His whole body froze in the darkness, and he even held his breath.

Time seemed to stand still at this moment. Shen Zijie maintained his rigid posture, his hand still covering the back of Wen Youqing's, but his fingertips trembled like leaves in the wind, revealing the turbulent waves stirring within him.

The feeling was too strange, too vivid, like a silent thunder, splitting the two people's disgust and alienation towards the world, and also splitting the calm shell that Shen Zijie tried hard to maintain.

It was a life, a living being that they had created together. When they were not ready and were even full of resistance, it stubbornly announced its arrival and forcibly connected them to this world.

In the darkness, Wen Youqing heard Shen Zijie's extremely suppressed, short gasp that seemed to be squeezed out from the depths of his throat, as if something was choking his throat.

After a long time, there was a whisper.

"My legs often cramp afterwards."

It was like Shen Zijie's soliloquy.

Suddenly, a tear slipped from the corner of Wen Youqing's eye. "Give him a name."

In the end, they accepted this accident, which was neither a joy nor a curse.