The Mad Ҡìղց

The Bitter Truth

Zhan stood silently, his face unreadable as Meng's words lashed out at him. He wanted to defend himself, to explain the desperation he felt, but deep down, he knew she was right.

Chang, standing frozen, finally found her voice. "Why? Why would you do this?"

Duan Dan swallowed hard. "Because the child... the child could kill him."

Meng's face contorted in rage. "You don't know that!" she screamed.

Chang, her face pale and her hands trembling, spoke again, her voice weak. "But you didn't tell me... You didn't trust me."

Zhan's face softened. He turned to her, his expression filled with sorrow. "I didn't want you to carry this burden, Chang. I thought... I thought I could handle it."

Wang let out another pained cry, and all eyes turned back to him. His body was shaking uncontrollably now, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps. Zhan moved to his side, brushing the hair from his clammy forehead, murmuring words of comfort that neither he nor Wang truly believed.

Tears welled up in Chang's eyes, but she said nothing more. Instead, she moved to Wang's other side, taking his hand in hers. "We could have done this together," she whispered.

The room filled with an unbearable tension, thick and suffocating, as Wang's agony echoed off the walls.

What's happening? Why are you all screaming? Wang asked. The words hung in the air like an ominous echo, each syllable chipping away at the delicate calm that had barely existed before.

Baby, you're pregnant," Zhan had finally said, and as soon as the words left his lips, the world seemed to tilt.

Wang's hand unconsciously moved to his stomach, his fingers trembling as they hovered over the space where life—impossible life—was growing inside him. His breath hitched, and his heart thudded violently against his ribcage. He felt the ground shift beneath him, like his body and mind had momentarily detached from reality, floating in disbelief.

"So... that's why I'm sick?" he asked, his voice a weak whisper, as if saying it too loud would make the truth unbearable.

Zhan nodded, his face twisted in anguish, but it was Duan Dan who spoke next. Her voice was firm, no room for hesitation. "Yes. And if we don't remove it, it'll kill you."

The words didn't register immediately. Wang blinked, trying to process the situation, but all he could feel was his hand resting on his abdomen. There was a warmth there, something gentle and fragile. It wasn't just an illness. It wasn't just him. It was life. And it was growing inside him.

"No," he said, his voice stronger than he'd intended, though his heart was pounding in his ears.

Zhan's eyes widened in surprise, and Meng, who had been standing silently in the corner, frowned. "No what?" she asked, her brow furrowed.

Wang's breath came quicker, his chest tightening, but he didn't hesitate again. "Don't take it out."

Zhan's face paled, his expression unreadable, but Wang could see the way his hands shook at his sides. He stepped closer, as if proximity would somehow make his plea more convincing. "Wang, please," Zhan whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "You don't understand. This pregnancy—it's not normal. It's hurting you. You've been getting sicker every day."

Wang shook his head, not wanting to hear it. "I don't care. I won't let you take it away."

Zhan's mouth opened, but no sound came out. His eyes flicked toward Chang as if begging her for help. She sat there, tears streaming down her face, silent sobs wracking her body. She had seen too much already, too much to deny the gravity of the situation.

"Wang," Chang began, her voice trembling. "Whatever it is they gave you, it won't work. You'll only get sicker, and it's going to keep getting worse. Until... until you die."

The final word hung in the air, sharp as a blade, slicing through the tenuous hope that had been holding Wang together. He felt the weight of it—of the inevitability they were all pressing on him—and for a moment, the room seemed to sway.

"What are you talking about?" Zhan asked, confusion and fear lacing his words. Duan Dan stood beside him, just as bewildered, her face stern but unsure.

Chang looked at them both, her chest heaving as she tried to steady her breathing. "It's a long story," she said, her voice cracking. "But please... just make him sleep so he won't feel the pain."

Her hand reached out and gently caressed Wang's shoulder, her touch tender, maternal. Her eyes, still brimming with tears, looked at him with such sorrow that it nearly undid him. But Wang was far from finished. He was not a passive participant in this nightmare. He was not going to let them treat him like a child, making decisions for him without telling him the truth.

"No," Wang hissed, his voice taking on an edge of defiance. "I'm not a child anymore. Whatever it is you want to say, just say it. Stop keeping things from me."

The room fell into a heavy silence. Chang's hand slipped from his shoulder, her face crumpling in on itself. She let out a shaky breath and took a step back, looking at Zhan and Duan Dan with something between resignation and fear.

Zhan's voice trembled when he spoke again. "Chang, tell us what's going on. What aren't you saying?"

Chang hesitated, her fingers twisting in the fabric of her shirt. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. Her gaze darted from Wang to Zhan, then back again, as if she was searching for something—some way to explain the impossible.

Finally, she wiped her tear-streaked face with her sleeve and took a deep breath. "This isn't just a pregnancy," she said quietly.

"What do you mean?" Duan Dan demanded, stepping forward. "What the hell is going on, Chang?"

Chang closed her eyes for a moment, as if bracing herself for what she was about to reveal. When she opened them again, they were full of pain. "This isn't the first time I've seen this. My twin brother. He went through something similar—an impossible pregnancy. At first, it seemed like a miracle. But as time went on, it became clear that it wasn't a blessing. It was a curse. His body started to fail him. The pregnancy consumed him from the inside out, until there was nothing left."

The room seemed to go colder, the weight of her words pressing down on everyone like a heavy stone. Wang could feel Zhan's eyes on him, pleading silently for him to understand the danger, but Wang couldn't tear his gaze away from Chang.

"And what happened to him?" Wang asked, though deep down, he already knew the answer.

Chang looked at him, her face pale and haunted. "He died. And so did the child."

Zhan let out a soft gasp, his hands trembling as they reached for Wang, but Wang didn't move. His heart was pounding in his chest, his mind reeling from the implications of Chang's story. Was that what awaited him? A slow, painful death as this impossible pregnancy consumed him? Was there really no way out?

Wang's hand instinctively went back to his stomach, feeling the warmth beneath his palm. This wasn't just about him anymore. There was something growing inside him—something real, something alive. It didn't feel like a curse. It felt... it felt like his.

He looked up at Zhan, his eyes blazing with determination. "I won't give up this child."

"Wang!" Zhan's voice cracked, desperation dripping from every syllable. "Please, you have to listen. This isn't just about what you want. You're going to die if you keep this going. I can't—I can't lose you like this."

"You won't lose me," Wang said, though the words felt more like a prayer than a promise. "I can survive this. I know I can."

Zhan shook his head, his face twisted in agony. "You don't know that. You're not thinking clearly."

"I am thinking clearly," Wang shot back, his voice firm. "I know this is dangerous. I know what you're all saying. But I can't just... I can't just let you take this life away from me. It's part of me. I can feel it."

"You don't understand!" Zhan shouted, his voice rising in frustration. "This isn't just about you anymore. We're all in this together. If you die—"

"I won't die," Wang interrupted, his voice hard. "I won't."