[BL] Oops! I Seduced My Sister's Fiance (And Now I'm Pregnant)-Chapter 17: The Faint

Two weeks.

It’s been two weeks since I ran into Wei Jian at the convenience store, and I haven’t left my room when absolutely forced.

The nausea has evolved into something constant, it used to just be mornings... wake up queasy, wait it out, feel marginally human by afternoon. But now it never stops.

A persistent wrongness in my stomach that occasionally spikes into waves so intense I have to freeze wherever I am and breathe through clenched teeth until it passes.

New symptoms keep appearing.

My sense of smell has sharpened to something almost painful. Mother’s perfume makes my eyes water, the cleaning solution our housekeeper uses sends me retreating back to my room with my shirt pressed over my nose. Father’s cigar smoke from the study drifts under my door and makes me nauseous, even the incense Mother burns in the living room, something I barely noticed before, now feels suffocating.

Food has become impossible.

Rice tastes like wet paper, vegetables are too strong, too earthy, the thought of meat makes me gag. I’ve been surviving on plain crackers and water, and even those feel like a struggle.

I’ve lost weight.

Not dramatically, but enough that my clothes fit differently. My face looks drawn when I catch my reflection, there are permanent shadows under my eyes.

The exhaustion is worse than the nausea.

This isn’t normal tiredness. This is the kind of bone-deep fatigue that makes getting out of bed feel like climbing a mountain. I sleep twelve hours and wake up feeling like I haven’t rested at all.

Something is wrong with this body.

Maybe it’s still recovering from the heat. The suppressants were harsh, maybe they threw everything off balance. Or maybe this is what happens when you transmigrate...your consciousness doesn’t quite fit right in the new body, and it takes time to adjust. Maybe I’m rejecting this flesh the way a transplant patient rejects an organ.

I don’t let myself think of another possibility.

That way leads to panic I can’t afford.

So I stay in my room and tell myself it will pass.

That strategy ends today.

Mother appears in my doorway at eleven-thirty, already dressed to go out. "Family meal. Downstairs. Now."

"I’m not hungry."

"I don’t care. Your sister and I have an appointment with the caterer at two, and I want everyone together for lunch first. Be downstairs in ten minutes."

She’s gone before I can argue.

I drag myself out of bed and into the shower. The hot water helps temporarily, I wash my hair for the first time in days, scrub away the stale smell of sweat and sleep. When I look in the mirror after, I almost look presentable.

Almost.

I pull on clean clothes and make my way downstairs, each step requiring conscious effort.

The dining room is already set. Father sits at the head of the table reading news on his tablet. Mother is arranging dishes that our housekeeper must have prepared earlier. Feifei rushes in a minute after me, slightly flushed.

"Sorry, I was on the phone with Grandmother Wuchen about the seating chart." She drops into her chair, then glances at me. Her expression shifts. "When did you shower?"

"This morning."

"That’s... good." She doesn’t say the rest...that it’s been days, that I look like I’ve been sick, that she’s worried.

Mother brings food to the table. Steamed fish with ginger and scallions, stir-fried greens, soup with mushrooms and herbs, and rice.

The smell hits me before the plates are even set down.

Fish.

My stomach clenches violently.

I press my lips together and breathe through my mouth, shallow and careful.

"Finally." Father sets his tablet aside. "Let’s eat quickly, I have a conference call at one-thirty."

Mother serves herself first, then starts filling my bowl. Rice, vegetables, a generous portion of fish placed right in the center.

The smell intensifies.

I can taste it at the back of my throat, my mouth floods with saliva.

"So," Father says, his tone suggesting he’s making an effort at conversation. "How are the wedding preparations?"

"Complicated." Mother’s voice is tight. "The guest list keeps growing. We’re up to two hundred and eighty now."

"That’s a lot of people." I say.

"It’s a significant union." She glances at Feifei. "Your sister deserves a proper celebration."

Feifei smiles, though it looks strained. "I just hope the caterer can handle the numbers, that’s why we’re meeting today...to finalize the menu and confirm they can actually serve that many people."

Everyone is eating now. Father with mechanical efficiency, Mother with small precise bites, Feifei picking at her vegetables while she talks.

I haven’t touched anything.

The fish sits in my bowl, glistening with sauce, the smell is everywhere, coating the inside of my nose and throat.

Another wave of nausea builds.

I grip the edge of the table.

"Runze." Mother’s voice cuts through the haze. "Eat something."

"I’m not..."

"I don’t want to hear it, you look like you haven’t eaten in days."

"I ate breakfast." A lie.

Feifei sets her chopsticks down. "Did you? Because I checked your room this morning and there was nothing..."

"Can we not do this?" My voice comes out sharper than intended. "I’m fine."

"You’re clearly not fine," Father says, still chewing. "You look unwell."

The walls are closing in, the smell is suffocating, my vision is starting to blur at the edges.

I need to leave.

Now.

I push my chair back.

"Where are you going?" Mother demands.

"Bathroom."

"You just sat down."

"I don’t feel well."

"Then eat something. Low blood sugar makes people feel faint."

If only it were that simple.

I stand.

Too fast.

The room tilts violently to the left, the ceiling and floor swap positions, my ears fill with static.

I reach for the table to steady myself but my hand passes through empty air, my depth perception is completely wrong.

I’m falling.

Can’t stop it.

Someone shouts...Feifei, I think...but the sound is distant and distorted.

The floor rushes up.

Then nothing.

Just darkness, sudden and absolute.

Everything goes black.