It is well-behaved, obediently growing a heartbeat. A single sentence…
A single sentence, like an ice pick, plunged viciously into the vulnerable spot where Zhang Lu’s pain and shame intersected.
He stiffened abruptly, causing the liquid in the IV tube to sway from his violent tremor. His complexion instantly shifted from pale to an embarrassing red, before draining completely until nothing was left but an ashen gray. The towering wave of shame made his stomach churn violently once again, threatening to make him vomit.
His gender, age, identity, and even the worldly experience he had spent half a lifetime accumulating should never have had anything to do with the word “pregnancy.”
Yet, it was the truth.
A nightmare of a truth.
The young man’s child, or to be precise, the child that this man had forcibly planted inside Zhang Lu’s body using that vicious, toxic potion, was quietly wreaking havoc right in his abdomen.
Anger immediately flared up, burning his eye sockets until they tinged with heat. He wanted to curse at the top of his lungs, throw a punch, and use every last ounce of his strength to roll off the bed and escape far away.
Yet, he couldn’t even manage to lift a hand.
You bastard.
Zhang Lu’s voice was trembling beyond recognition, so hoarse and rough that it was almost unintelligible, with every single word sounding as though it were squeezed out from between his teeth.
Disgusting.
He turned his head away, refusing to look at that suffocating face, his shoulders trembling uncontrollably. That is the evil deed you created. It has nothing to do with me, and it has nothing to do with you either.
A smile surfaced once more at the young man’s lips, cruel, dangerous, devoid of even a shred of warmth.
Has nothing to do with it?
His voice was very soft, but his fingertips were roaming across Zhang Lu’s neck. The icy touch made Zhang Lu’s whole body stiffen, his breathing coming to a near standstill.
I gave you a chance. You were simply incompetent.
His words were like a sharp blade, stabbing straight into Zhang Lu’s heart.
The child, and you as well, from now on, you belong to me.
The young man withdrew his fingers deliberately and leisurely, as if wiping down a newly used, expensive piece of porcelain. He didn’t even glance at Zhang Lu, simply turning his head to give a soft command toward the shadows in the corner of the room:
Bring the medicine.
Soon, a person who looked like a nurse appeared silently, carrying a tray. On the tray sat a cup of warm water and a few white pills.
He took them and sat down on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping slightly under his weight. Zhang Lu instinctively tried to shrink back, but was pinned firmly in place by the IV tubing and his own weakened body.
Open your mouth. His voice was flat, as though he were feeding a dog.
Zhang Lu tightly pursed his lips, his jaw clicking as he bit down hard, hatred burning in the depths of his eyes.
The man wasn’t annoyed; there was even a sigh of indulgent amusement in his demeanor. He reached out, his thumb and index finger precisely pinching Zhang Lu’s jaw. The pressure wasn’t heavy, but it still made Zhang Lu’s eyes sting with pain.
The next second, he forcefully pried Zhang Lu’s mouth open, pushed the slightly bitter pills directly inside, and then pressed the water cup against his lips.
Swallow it, he commanded in a low voice, his tone horrifyingly gentle. Be a good boy, it’s good for the child.
Zhang Lu’s Adam’s apple bobbed violently. The pill was stuck in his throat; he wanted to vomit, to cough, to spit everything out onto that hateful face.
However, the man’s other hand had already locked onto the back of Zhang Lu’s neck like an iron clamp, forcing him to tilt his head back. Water streamed down the corners of his mouth, mixing with tears of humiliation to soak the pillow.
The moment he swallowed the medicine, Zhang Lu trembled all over, as if drained of his very last shred of strength.
Finally, the man released his grip, but his fingertips smoothly slid beneath the covers, moving down to rest on Zhang Lu’s lower abdomen, pressing down lightly through the thin layer of fabric.
That area remained as flat as ever.
He is very healthy, the man murmured, lowering his head until his voice was barely a whisper. His heartbeat is fast, like a little beast afraid of me.
Zhang Lu abruptly averted his gaze, his voice forcing its way out from between his teeth: What on earth do you want?
The man smiled. This time it was a genuine smile, the corners of his lips curving into an extremely faint, cold arc.
He leaned down until his nose practically grazed the whorl of Zhang Lu’s ear. His breath was warm, but his words were as cold as ice: Naturally, to let you safely deliver the child.
My child.
Every single word was like the tip of a knife, leisurely carving circles into Zhang Lu’s heart.
You can hate me, and you can wish to die. He paused, his fingertips tracing a frivolous circle on Zhang Lu’s lower abdomen. But starting today, even the right to die is something you must ask my permission for first.
Zhang Lu’s chest heaved violently, his breathing as heavy as a bellows. He stared fixedly at the face just inches away, his eyes blazing a brilliant red: Ask your permission?
He let out a harsh huff, his throat feeling as though it had been scraped by a knife, raspy like sandpaper grinding against an iron plate: I’ve lived for over thirty years, taken knife wounds, and served time in a cell, when did it ever become your turn to approve whether I live or die?
He caught his breath, his mouth twisting into a smile that was uglier than crying, laced with a fierce stubbornness: Your child? Fine! If you’ve got the guts, stuff it into your own belly! Playing daddy for me here? You are just a pervert! A disgusting pervert!
The moment the words left his mouth, he coughed twice, stirring up the residual acid in his stomach and nearly vomiting again. Yet, he stubbornly forced that breath back down, glaring unblinkingly at the other man like a wild dog cornered against a wall, knowing it couldn’t bite, yet still baring its teeth.
The amusement in the man’s eyes didn’t fade; if anything, it deepened. He wasn’t angry, nor did he even frown, simply straightening up leisurely with his hands tucked into his trench coat pockets, looking as nonchalant as someone watching an entertaining play.
Keep cursing, he said softly, with the patient indulgence of someone coaxing a child. I’m listening.
Zhang Lu’s throat choked up, his chest feeling as though it were blocked by something. The more he thought about it, the angrier he grew, and the angrier he grew, the more he wanted to shred that face to pieces.
He gnashed his teeth, though he could no longer think of anything else to hurl at him; his voice grew even hoarser: Pervert, why don’t you just choke me to death?
The man let out a low click of his tongue, as though thoroughly amused.
He leaned down once more, though this time he didn’t press against Zhang Lu’s ear; instead, he used his knuckles to prop up Zhang Lu’s chin, forcing him to look up. As their eyes met, those pitch-black, gleaming eyes held no anger, only a nearly morbid focus.
Choke you to death? He repeated softly, as if tasting the weight of the words. That would be letting you off too easily.
His knuckles slid down the line of Zhang Lu’s jaw, coming to rest on his Adam’s apple as the corners of his lips curved into a chilling arc. You have to stay alive and give birth to this child, and after that, for the rest of your life, you’ll be this child’s mother. Are you happy?
Zhang Lu’s pupils shrank violently, as though pierced by the cruelest of blades.
He wanted to retort, to spit at him, to use every last scrap of strength to knock that hand away. But his body refused to obey, leaving only his voice to put up a defiant front.
In your dreams, he spat out four words from between his teeth, laced with a bloody stubbornness. A child? The moment it’s born, I’ll choke it to death myself, so it doesn’t end up disgusting people the way you do.
The moment the words left his mouth, even he was stunned.
Yet the man didn’t lose his temper.
He simply gazed quietly at Zhang Lu, much like someone watching a ruffled little beast. Then, he suddenly leaned down even lower, his lips nearly grazing Zhang Lu’s earlobe as he spoke in a voice quiet enough for only the two of them to hear:
Choke it to death? He gave a light laugh, his breath burning hot. Go ahead, try it.
With that, he straightened up, finished with today’s routine chore, and turned to walk away.
Reaching the door, he paused, throwing a final sentence over his shoulder without looking back: Rest well, and sleep once you’re done cursing. If you don’t care about your body, you’re the one who’s going to suffer when the time comes to give birth.
The door clicked shut.
The room was left with only Zhang Lu’s heavy breathing and the blood seeping from his fingernails digging into his palms.
He closed his eyes, his eyelashes trembling fiercely.
He had cursed him out, and let off some steam, but the chill rising from the depths of his heart refused to be suppressed.
Drifting off into a hazy sleep, he had no idea how much time had passed before Zhang Lu was startled awake by a light knock at the door.
Two men dressed in simple business suits walked in carrying a tray, upon which sat warm porridge and a small bowl of soup. The scent was light and clean, yet it immediately caused Zhang Lu’s recovering stomach to tighten once more.
Mr. Zhang, it’s time to eat. One of the subordinates stepped forward, reaching out to help him sit up.
Zhang Lu abruptly twisted away, dodging the hand, his gaze as cold as ice: Get lost.
His voice was still somewhat raspy, yet it carried an unyielding, stubborn streak: I’m not eating your filthy garbage, and I don’t need your hypocritical charity.
The subordinate didn’t move, simply standing in place with his hands hanging down, his gaze fixed on the tray: The boss gave orders. You must eat. If you refuse, we will have no choice but to feed you by force.
By force? Zhang Lu curled his lips in a sneer, his chest beginning to heave again. Come on then, if you’ve got the guts, pour it straight down my throat! My life’s worthless anyway; dying from it would be a blessing, saving me from looking at you two and feeling sickened by this thing in my belly!
As he spoke, he suddenly raised a hand and swiped viciously at the tray bedside.
Clatter.
The ceramic bowl crashed to the floor, warm porridge spilling everywhere while the soup splattered across the carpet. Light brown liquid stains bloomed outward, blending the food’s aroma with utter disarray in the chilling room.
The subordinate’s expression darkened instantly. Just as he stepped forward to intervene, the door was pushed open once more.
The man had returned. The trench coat he wore still carried the chill of the outside air. Seeing the mess on the floor, there was no ripple of emotion in his eyes; he merely glanced at Zhang Lu indifferently, with the look of someone watching a child throwing a tantrum, ridiculous and uninteresting.
It seems you still haven’t learned to be obedient. He walked over, looking down condescendingly at Zhang Lu huddled in the corner of the bed, his fingertips lightly rubbing his cuff with a terrifyingly flat tone.
Zhang Lu stiffened his neck, glaring up at him with red still lingering in his eyes, much like an untamable, cornered beast: Obedient? Obey your mother’s ghost! I’d rather starve or die of thirst than take a single bite of your food, and I’ll never willingly nurture this spawn!
Spawn? The man repeated it in a low tone and suddenly smiled, bending down to pick up a shard of broken ceramic from the floor, completely unfazed as his fingertip was scratched. It seems words are useless. I’ll just have to let you see for yourself whether or not it’s spawn.
He straightened up, tipped his chin toward his subordinate, and spoke decisively: Bring the equipment in.
Zhang Lu’s heart skipped a beat, an inexplicable sense of ominous foreboding rising within him. Before he could open his mouth to question them, he watched as two subordinates wheeled in a small ultrasound machine, accompanied by the same nurse-like figure holding a bottle of transmission gel, standing respectfully to the side with lowered head.
What are you doing? Zhang Lu’s voice began to tremble as he instinctively shrank back. He wasn’t ignorant enough not to know what the man intended to do. I’m not doing it! Take these messy things away! Get out of here!
Stop making a fuss. The man’s voice dropped a fraction, carrying a strange hint of gentleness. I’m just letting you see the spawn inside you, the thing that sickens you so much. See it with your own eyes, alive, right inside your body.
He turned his head to give an order to the person behind him: Go ahead, right here.
I won’t look! I don’t want to look! Zhang Lu shook his head frantically, his head colliding with the headboard and making his vision blur with pain, yet he still refused to compromise. Let go of me, I’m not looking. I’m begging you.
In his entire life, he had never begged anyone. But right now, he was truly breaking down.
His voice unconsciously carried a note of pleading.
The man didn’t answer, simply tilting his chin at the nurse. The nurse stepped forward immediately, unscrewing the gel bottle. The icy cold gel squeezed onto Zhang Lu’s lower abdomen made him shudder all over, instinctively trying to curl inward, only to be held firmly in place by the man.
Don’t move around, he said in a low voice, carrying a scalp-tingling patience. We’re just taking a look.
The ultrasound probe gently touched his lower abdomen, moving slowly across the skin. Zhang Lu kept his eyes tightly shut, too terrified to look.
Yet he couldn’t block his ears. He heard the nurse’s report with crystal clarity: Gestational age is around ten weeks. Very healthy, fetal heart rate is strong and active.
Ten weeks.
The man lowered his head, pressing close to Zhang Lu’s ear, enunciating every word with cruel clarity: Open your eyes. Look at it.
Zhang Lu’s eyelids were pried open, forcing his line of sight onto the screen.
Amidst the blurred light and shadow, that tiny, dark silhouette was clearly visible, beating faintly yet resolutely, that was the heartbeat.
In an instant, all his anger, all his hatred, and all his stubbornness were shattered by that weak pulse.
He stopped struggling, stopped shouting, simply staring fixedly at the screen as his shoulders trembled uncontrollably and tears spilled forth in an uncontainable rush.
It wasn’t a dream. It wasn’t a hallucination. He hadn’t gone mad.
It really was right there.
Watching him weep tears down his face, the man slowly relaxed his grip, his fingertips brushing across Zhang Lu’s cheek with feather-light delicacy, though his tone remained as frosty as ever: Saw it?
It is well-behaved, obediently growing a heartbeat.
Right inside your body. Isn’t it fascinating?
A wave of overwhelming humiliation left Zhang Lu completely unaware that the man’s fingers had already moved from his cheek down to his lower abdomen, tracing slow circles against his skin.
He wanted to turn away, wanted to curse, wanted to smash this broken machine to pieces. But his eyes felt glued to the screen. That tiny creature was still beating, over and over again, as if responding to his gaze.
Suddenly, the man let out a low chuckle and waved a hand toward the side: Roll it out.
The ultrasound machine was wheeled out in silence.
The man reached into the bedside drawer and pulled out something even smaller, a palm-sized fetal heart monitor with a silvery-gray shell, a small probe, and a built-in speaker, resembling an exquisite remote control.
Before Zhang Lu could react, the icy probe pressed lightly against his flat lower abdomen.
There was no sharp pain, only a series of subtle vibrations.
Immediately afterward, a sound echoed crystal-clear in the quiet room.
A few seconds of silence.
Then:
Thump, thump, thump.
It was a heartbeat.
Small yet deep, steady and powerful.
Zhang Lu’s breathing instantly stopped.
The afterimages of the ultrasound still lingered in his eyes, while his ears were entirely filled with this sound of a tiny drum.
Lowering his gaze to look down at him, the man’s eyes held an almost tender darkness, his fingertips still resting lightly over Zhang Lu’s lower abdomen, overlapping with the probe.
Did you hear it?
Go on, tell it that you want to starve it to death, that you want to choke it.
Zhang Lu’s stomach churned over and over again. He bit down hard on his teeth, forcing a few words past them: Disgusting, you pervert.
The man chuckled softly, his eyes narrowing slightly with a hint of amusement in his voice: A pervert?
That would be you. Look, while you’re screaming about how disgusting it is, you are also…
It wasn’t until warmth covered the back of his hand that Zhang Lu looked down in startled realization to find that his own hand had somehow ended up resting over his lower abdomen.
What was wrong with him?
Clearly, his heart was burning with a mad fury, yet his body had acted ahead of reason, instinctively protecting the spot where the heartbeat was echoing from.