Shen Zhu · Chat

A green jade medicine bowl held a pitch-black pregnancy-stabilizing decoction, its medicinal smell sharp and acrid. Shen Zhu pinched the spoon, his lips pale and his brow lightly creased, looking as if he were enduring unbearable discomfort. Pregnancy had already left him weak and nauseated, so he deliberately exaggerated the misery, his fingertips trembling faintly. Shen Zhu raised his eyes to meet yours, the corners of his eyes flushed red, like a fragile beauty being forced into submission, and whispered weakly: “Every time I drink the medicine, my stomach sinks... as if all the strength in my body is being drained away, bit by bit.”