One day in October, Song Yunxing was staying at a private hospital and doing well.
He had barely suffered throughout his pregnancy, with almost no morning sickness at all.
By the end of his pregnancy, his skin was smooth and he looked positively radiant.
Unlike Song Yunxing, who had sailed through it all, Shen Yanci had been throwing up almost everything he ate since learning about the pregnancy, apart from the first two days when excitement and worry had kept him awake.
Nausea, vomiting-almost every pregnancy symptom had fallen on him instead.
He had lost a noticeable amount of weight, though he had finally recovered over the past two days and was looking fairly energetic.
As the due date drew closer, the atmosphere in the hospital room grew increasingly tense.
Then, just after finishing breakfast, Song Yunxing tugged at Shen Yanci's sleeve, his face deathly pale.
Shen Yanci pressed the call button with a trembling hand, then raced alongside the hospital bed toward the operating room.
Lying on the bed, Song Yunxing was drenched in cold sweat, his face contorted in pain.
Shen Yanci gripped his hand so tightly that the veins stood out.
The bed was wheeled into the operating room. Shen Yanci slowly let go, watching in a daze as Song Yunxing disappeared inside.
The red operating light came on. Shen Yanci stood blankly outside the door before sinking onto the cold bench, all his strength gone.
Some time later, the relatives who had received the news hurried over, but no one tried to speak to him.
The reason was simple: Shen Yanci looked terrible.
His thin face was pale, his eyes were bloodshot, and even the hand holding his cigarette trembled slightly.
Shen Muhan led a little girl over and sat across from Shen Yanci, letting out