Her fingers were tightly twisted together, her fingertips almost digging into her palms, and her tears silently slid down, wetting her clothes. She lowered her head, her shoulders trembling slightly, as if all her strength had been drained away.
"Yan Jing, how can you be so cruel?" Her voice was weak and filled with desperate tears, "I really don't know what to do..."
She suddenly covered her stomach and slowly squatted down.
"I...my stomach hurts."
Zhou Yanjing's eyes flashed, and a hint of hesitation flashed across his brows. He stared at Zhang Changfeng, watching her curled up on the ground, her face frighteningly pale, cold sweat rolling down her forehead.
Her hands were pressed tightly against her lower abdomen, and her lips were trembling slightly, as if she was enduring great pain.
Even if he hated Zhang Changfeng now, he couldn't joke with his life.
"What’s wrong with you?"
Zhou Yu stood aside and asked, "Are you going to have sex?"
Zhang Changfeng's fingers were tightly gripped on the ground, her nails were deeply embedded in the soil, cold sweat continued to seep from her forehead and slid down her cheeks. Her breathing was rapid and disordered, and the sound seemed to be squeezed out from between her teeth. "I don't know... my stomach... really hurts..."
Zhou Yanjing's brows were furrowed, and his inner struggle became extremely clear at that moment. He squatted down and stretched out his hand towards her, but paused in mid-air for a moment, as if hesitating whether to touch her. Finally, he reached out and held her shoulders. Although his tone was cold, it was also a little anxious. "Can you stand up?"
Zhang Changfeng's body was shaking violently, tears mixed with sweat dripping onto the back of her hand, her voice was so weak that it was almost inaudible, "I... I can't stand up..."
Zhou Yanjing gritted his teeth, he looked up at Zhou Yu who was standing beside him, "Dad, you hold her up!"
Zhou Yanjing ran back to the room. Shen Liwu was lying on the bed. When she saw him come in, she didn't say anything.
Zhou Yanjing looked at his mother and said, "Mom, Zhang Changfeng is dying. We need to send her to the hospital immediately. You take care of Wuwu."
He looked at Shen Liwu again, feeling full of guilt: “Wuwu, I will explain it to you clearly when I come back. Forgive me, I can’t just stand by and watch someone die.”
Shen Liwu's eyes were slightly red, her fingers tightly grasped the corner of the quilt, her voice was low and hoarse, as if squeezed out from the depths of her throat, "Go ahead, I'll wait for you."
Zhou Yanjing's heart seemed to be stabbed by something, and his throat tightened. He took a step forward, leaned over, supported himself on the edge of the bed with both hands, and pressed his forehead against hers. Their breathing intertwined, warm and rapid. "Wuwu, believe me, I will give you an explanation when I come back."
Shen Liwu closed her eyes, her long eyelashes trembling gently, like the fragile wings of a butterfly. Her voice was so weak that it was almost inaudible. "Yeah."
Zhou Yanjing's heart seemed to be tightened by an invisible rope, and the pain was so severe that he almost suffocated. He stood up, looked at her deeply, turned around and strode out of the room. His footsteps seemed particularly heavy in the silent night.
Zhou's mother chased after him, "Yanjing, there is a pick-up lady in the village, take her to Zhang's house."
"Tuo." Zhou Yanjing walked out.
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