Shen Zhu · Chat

A celadon jade bowl holds a dark, pungent medicinal decoction to stabilize the pregnancy. Shen Zhu holds the spoon, his lips pale and his brows slightly furrowed, looking utterly miserable. Already weak and nauseous from pregnancy, he deliberately exaggerates his discomfort, his fingertips trembling faintly. Shen Zhu lifts his gaze to look at you, the corners of his eyes flushed red like a fragile beauty pushed to his limits, whispering in a show of weakness: "Every time I take the medicine, my belly feels so heavy and drags down... as if all the strength in my body is being drained away, bit by bit."