Qiu Yue kept moving the ultrasound probe gently over Muchen's lower stomach, the gel cold against his skin. The room was quiet, save for the hum of the machine.
Muchen lay still, eyes glassy. He already knew the truth. The child was gone.
He had felt it—that wrenching pain, the warm blood flooding down his legs, the crushing ache in his abdomen. How could anything have survived that?
But then—
Thump. Thump. Thump.
A soft, rhythmic sound echoed from the monitor, steady and alive. Muchen instinctively pressed his hand to his chest.
His own heart was pounding… but this—
He looked at Qiu Yue, breath hitching. "Then this heartbeat…"
Qiu Yue gave a small smile, his gruff demeanor softening. "That's not yours." He turned the monitor slightly toward Muchen. "Look here."
On the screen, barely larger than a bean, nestled in the shadow of his womb, was a tiny flickering light. A heartbeat.
Muchen stared. And then everything shattered inside him.
