Since the physician confirmed the pregnancy, Shu Rui had experienced severe morning sickness.
Though he had never considered himself delicate, he found himself quite vulnerable now. He slept often: early at night, late in the morning, and even napped at noon.
Previously a hearty appetite, he now found almost everything unappealing. The smell of meat or strong foods made him nauseous, sometimes so strongly he would vomit. Even thinking about food could churn his stomach.
Lu Ling, seeing his aversion to eating, worried about his health. He would either prepare suitable dishes for pregnant individuals at their inn with Qing and Xu Cheng, or he’d carefully inquire about the best food at nearby restaurants and bring them home. Whatever it was—meats, pastries, fruits—he varied it constantly, hoping Shu Rui would manage a few bites.
Shu Rui appreciated Lu Ling’s effort and did his best to eat, but often it was impossible. If something was placed before him, he would feel uncomfortable even to taste it; if bad, he’d cover his mouth and turn away, demanding it be removed.
Yet sometimes, unexpectedly, he would crave certain foods and eat with gusto. This irregular pattern persisted day and night.
Even though pregnancy made him sleep more, craving food sometimes kept him awake. One night, Lu Ling had already put out the lamp and held him close to sleep, yet Shu Rui, thinking of spicy, tangy chicken feet, couldn’t help swallowing in anticipation.
He closed his eyes, telling himself that he shouldn’t crave such things in the middle of the night—but desire wouldn’t listen, and it kept him restless.
Lu Ling, holding him, noticed that while Shu Rui appeared still and asleep, his breathing was irregular. Normally, his breathing would settle within a minute of extinguishing the lamp, but tonight it did not.
“What’s wrong?” Lu Ling asked.
Shu Rui hesitated, embarrassed to admit he wanted spicy, tangy chicken feet. “Nothing… perhaps I slept too long on the couch at noon, so I didn’t sleep well tonight.”
Lu Ling, knowing him too well, said gently, “You’re pregnant now, so it’s natural to feel unwell. If there’s anything, you must tell me.”
Shu Rui, warmed by his care, nestled closer, a little spoiled and helpless. “I don’t know why, but all of a sudden… I really want spicy, tangy chicken feet.”
“It’s probably too late—most restaurants will be closed, and we don’t have any chicken feet at home,” Shu Rui said.
Lu Ling thought for a moment. “I’ll go to the night market and see if I can find some. Maybe there’s still a chance.”
Before Shu Rui could respond, Lu Ling was already getting up. Despite his movements being a bit clumsy, he was out of the warm bed in the blink of an eye. In the chill of early spring, few people would have the determination to leave a warm bed so willingly.
Dressed and ready, Lu Ling reassured Shu Rui, “You stay in bed. I’ll climb over the wall—won’t use the main door, so Father and Mother won’t know.”
Shu Rui tried to stop him. “It’s late. Let’s forget it. You might not even find any, and the cold wind will just make your stomach worse.”
Lu Ling smiled gently. “Even if I don’t find any, it’s still better than you not wanting to eat anything at all. Rest easy.”
He tucked Shu Rui back under the covers and quietly slipped out.
Outside, the wind was biting, and a fine spring rain was falling. Vendors at the night markets were few. Lu Ling ran through the South and East City night markets, looking for sour-and-spicy chicken feet. Still determined, he went on to the West City market and finally found a vendor who sold lamb feet. After some coaxing and extra payment, the vendor prepared fresh, sour-and-spicy chicken feet for him.
The chicken feet were in a mortar, mixed with chili and small sour limes, perfectly tangy and spicy. Satisfied, Lu Ling brought them home.
Shu Rui, anticipating this treat, drooled at the smell. He tried a few bites with chopsticks, but quickly found it didn’t suit him—he couldn’t eat more than two pieces.
Lu Ling had braved the cold and rain without an umbrella, traversing half the city. His clothes and hair were dusted with a fine layer, almost like powdered sugar. He wiped himself dry with a handkerchief, only to see Shu Rui about to vomit again. He poured water for him and gently rubbed his back.
Though Shu Rui had barely eaten, the craving was satisfied, and he could finally sleep peacefully.
The pregnancy didn’t just make him sensitive to food; he grew queasy at the smell of meat or strong spices.
As spring arrived, the weather warmed, and Lu Ling spent much of the day outside. With sweat, dust, and contact with many people, he had to be especially careful not to bring germs back to Shu Rui, who, being pregnant, was more vulnerable. Every day, Lu Ling bathed before seeing Shu Rui to avoid causing him nausea.
One day, when their bath supplies ran out, Lu Ling had servants prepare temporary water for cleaning. He intended to freshen himself before approaching Shu Rui, but Shu Rui pinched his nose at the scent of jasmine, unable to tolerate it. Lu Ling quickly washed again, ensuring the smell was gone before approaching.
Shu Rui’s nausea was unpredictable—sometimes new scents made him sick, sometimes familiar ones. Lu Ling did his best to avoid triggers, removing anything that caused discomfort.
Shu Rui watched Lu Ling obey his every need and felt both touched and guilty, emotions tangled together in his heart. Before pregnancy, he had been self-restrained, even knowing how well Lu Ling treated him, he wouldn’t act capriciously. They had always understood each other.
But with a child on the way, he noticed his temper had become strange—small issues could upset him, and he felt easily wronged.
One morning, with an empty stomach and feeling nauseous, Shu Rui was given some porridge by Lu Ling. Concerned, Lu Ling had consulted the doctor about morning sickness, learning that frequent small meals were best, keeping mild, cool foods ready at all times.
As Shu Rui ate, he noted, “Before the doctor confirmed my pregnancy, I had occasional mild symptoms. Now it’s much stronger. Maybe because I stay home so much, focused on the pregnancy, the symptoms show more clearly. If I went to the shop, talked to customers, and distracted myself, it might be better.”
Lu Ling, sitting beside him, replied gently, “The shop has people coming and going. You’re the type who likes to do things yourself. If you go, you might tire yourself out.”
Shu Rui frowned. “I’m still able to move around. Why can’t I go? Staying home is either eating or sleeping. Everyone else has things to do, but I’m idle and causing you all to fuss over me.”
His nose tinged, eyes reddening.
Seeing Shu Rui upset, Lu Ling panicked, setting aside dishes and reassuring him, “I didn’t mean that. I’m not trying to control you. If you want to go to the shop, I’ll accompany you.”
Seeing Lu Ling flustered only made Shu Rui cry more, burying his face in Lu Ling’s chest.
“It’s not your fault. I’m just being fussy,” Shu Rui mumbled.
“I worry that you’re busy with the shop, coming back to check on me, and still have to rest carefully at night. I can’t share your pregnancy discomfort, but taking care of you—that’s what a husband should do. The child is ours; it’s my duty to help,” Lu Ling said softly.
Shu Rui’s mood, fragile as it was, lightened under Lu Ling’s careful soothing. He felt like his happiness depended on such care, unpredictable as his nausea.
He realized firsthand how difficult it was for parents to raise a child, his love and gratitude for his own parents swelling.
He also felt fortunate that he hadn’t misjudged Lu Ling. Many say you only truly see a man’s character when marriage and children arrive—some who were loving before marriage reveal flaws during pregnancy. Lu Ling, however, remained patient and gentle, even more so than before.
Shu Rui, leaning on him, sniffled softly. “I want to be with you forever.”