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墨書 Inktalez
Chapter 3: Unexpected Pregnancy
As the pregnancy test collided with the edge of the bathtub, I was wiping the fog off the mirror with my palm. Water droplets trickled down the "L"-shaped crack, resembling the path of the pearl necklace that Lin Yichen had torn apart last night. A dull pain gripped my lower abdomen like a steel wire tightening around it, and fragments of diamonds that had burst off when he ripped my lace strap were lodged under my nails.
"Six weeks pregnant," the doctor said, her ballpoint pen piercing through the shadow on the B Ultrasound Report. The disinfectant light burned two hollow spots in her pupils. I stared at the blurry gray mass in the image, and suddenly, the rhythm of Su Ya's stiletto heels striking the tiled floor flooded my eardrums—tap, tap, tap—like the sound of a mortician trimming nails in a funeral home.
Lin Yichen's torn tie clasp was embedded in the wall's plaster, and his fingers gripping the examination report turned a corpse-like pale. "The Munich Security Conference lasted five days." His cufflinks glided across my collarbone like ice shards, leaving a chill at the edge of my bra. "The garage surveillance caught a strange man entering your apartment that day while I was signing the divorce agreement."
Su Ya leaned against the doorframe in her fox fur coat, her newly replaced jade bracelet clanging with a dull toll like a death knell. The bite mark behind her ear, hidden beneath foundation, resembled a moldy spot, but it suddenly bloomed when she saw the Pregnancy Test Report—the dark red droplets rolling down mirrored the words "bastard" circled in red on Mother’s will.
The smell of formalin mixed with blood surged up my throat. I curled up in an escape passage with several cigarette butts; Zhou Yi's military boots crushing them made a sharp sound that illuminated the emergency lights. The mug he handed me had a bullet-hole-like dent along its rim, and steam from the hot cocoa rose around my old scar on my palm.
"The embryo's DNA has been swapped." Zhou Yi's motion of tearing open a sugar packet resembled peeling a bullet shell; as sugar fell into the brown swirl, his Adam's apple made a sound like pulling a trigger. "Mr. Lin's vasectomy surgery video was sent to your email this morning."
Amidst the roar of the shredder tearing apart medical reports, I felt for my dog tag tucked away in the dark compartment of my vanity. When "LYC" engraved on it caught in Lin Yichen's cufflink groove, Zhou Yi suddenly gripped my wrist—his palm embedded with shrapnel pressed against my pulse like a rusty wedding ring.
The white mist from the convenience store freezer crystallized at Zhou Yi's brow. As he tied my scarf for me, flames leapt from the wind machine, illuminating gaps between shelves—Su Ya was stuffing blood-stained test strips into a sealed bag, and behind her, a man's name tag reflected glaringly; it bore the gold logo of that Black Market Clinic.
"Bourbon whiskey." The glass bottle pressed down on a copy of the Pregnancy Test Report with a bone-cracking groan. As Zhou Yi snatched it away, bandages scattered across "87% deformity rate" in the diagnosis column. Amber liquid rolled down his Adam's apple, washing away rust-colored tears from the dog tag’s engravings.
The cold light from the surgical lamp resembled an operating table spotlight. The doctor pressed the probe against my lower abdomen with such force that it reminded me of that night when a military doctor extracted bullets from wounds. "Implanted over an old gunshot scar." Amidst the clattering of instruments, iodine on her gloves blurred into Lin Yichen's tie pattern, "It's like stuffing roses into a magazine."
The airflow from Zhou Yi kicking open the safety door blew away my Miscarriage Consent Form from my knees. At that moment when his shoulder brushed against my earlobe, Su Ya's scream exploded from the adjacent examination room—inside her Crocodile Skin Bag, a hidden Embryo Culture Tube was leaking blood, staining a brand new Equity Transfer Agreement within.
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