At first, Si Jiang simply thought his stomach problems were acting up again.
His pickiness with food was nothing new. Only when eating with Zong Yan would he obediently swallow everything in his bowl, whether he liked it or not. He did it because his Master did not allow him to be a picky eater.
To his delight, the foods he disliked appeared on the table less and less frequently over time. Of course, he was the one who cooked most of the time. Zong Yan looked too thin, but she had once coolly complimented his cooking. Naturally, Si Jiang had taken that like a shot of adrenaline, basking in the joy of feeding his Master.
When she went abroad, leaving him alone in the country to deal with his tiresome family, his work, and the nights he could never quite adjust to, he naturally lost his appetite.
But lately, it wasn't just a lack of appetite. He felt the urge to vomit the moment he smelled food, gasoline, or even perfume.
During a company meeting, a manager sitting next to him had sprayed an overwhelming amount of cheap cologne to mask body odor. Si Jiang hadn't lasted five minutes before he kicked his chair back, rushed to the restroom, and retched a stomach full of bitter bile into the toilet.
After that, he banned perfume in the office.
It was his rule. This was the Si family’s company, and even if Si Jiang wasn't in high-level management yet—having been sent down merely to "gain experience"—everyone in the company knew who the Young Master of the Si family was.
Later came the exhaustion. After sitting in the office for only a few hours, his lower back would begin to ache. If he stood up too quickly, his head would spin.
Chen Bai called it "Young Master’s Disease," claiming he’d been pampered for too long and couldn't handle the life of a working man. Si Jiang didn't bother responding to his childhood friend’s cold remarks; he simply assumed he had low blood sugar. He was vomiting every day and had nothing in his stomach, so where was he supposed to get the energy to work?
Slumped against his pillow, Si Jiang stared longingly at the woman on the screen who was busy typing away, murmuring his complaints.
Zong Yan was preoccupied with a proposal and didn't pay much attention to him. Si Jiang often talked a lot, most of it mindless chatter—either wheedling and pestering her to let him come to Brasilia, or suddenly spiraling into a fit of madness, claiming Zong Yan didn't want him anymore and had thrown him away in China with no intention of ever returning for him.
He was on the verge of a breakdown from missing her, yet the woman on the screen remained eternally cold and indifferent, as if nothing could ever affect her.
At the thought of this, Si Jiang felt a sudden suffocation in his chest. He clutched his collar, knelt before the camera, and raised his voice: "Master! Look at me!"
The woman on the screen finally adjusted her glasses and turned her face toward the camera.
"What is it?" Zong Yan asked, picking up her phone and walking toward the breakroom.
*What is it?* She had promised him during their last meeting that they would video call at least once a day. Si Jiang had been so happy when he returned to China.
But he didn't want this kind of video call, where it felt like he was performing a monologue! He wanted those eyes—eyes that rarely held anyone—to look at him. To look *only* at him.
"You're cheating..." The pet pursed his lips, his long hair falling listlessly against his face, his voice thick with grievance.
Zong Yan rubbed the corners of her eyes, a hint of impatience surfacing. "I'm working. I don't have time to chat."
The pressures of her work and life were things a pampered young master like Si Jiang could never truly understand.
Usually, when she said this, the pet would reluctantly apologize and act obedient, promising to be sensible and not disturb her.
But today, Zong Yan’s eyes widened slightly in surprise as she looked at the disconnected call.
Si Jiang had actually hung up on her.
Was he that angry?
Zong Yan didn't think much of it. She sent him a quick message and returned to her post. Once she finished this busy period, she would be able to clear some time for a vacation.
On the other side of the world, Si Jiang fumbled frantically with his suddenly blacked-out phone, his face turning pale.
Why did it shut down? What if Master was angry because the call was cut off? Was the battery dead?
He scrambled off the bed to find his charging cable in his bag, but the world suddenly spun violently. His heart raced, his legs gave way, and he collapsed unconscious onto the floor.
When he woke up again, he was lying in bed. Chen Bai was staring at him with a bizarre expression.
"Old Si, you..."
Si Jiang propped himself up, his first instinct being to look for his phone. "Why are you here?"
In response, Chen Bai stood up abruptly, slamming his hands against his knees in fury. "If I hadn't come to check on you, you'd still be rotting on the floor! Now explain to me—what the hell is going on with your body?!"
...
Si Jiang looked at him, bewildered. It was just a fainting spell from low blood sugar; why the big fuss?
However, Chen Bai continued speaking, his voice growing more agitated. As Si Jiang listened, his phone slipped from his hand and hit the floor with a thud. He didn't even notice.
What did Chen Bai’s words mean?
...
In the parking lot of Brasilia International Airport, a Volkswagen was parked in a secluded corner.
Inside the car, the atmosphere was stagnant.
Zong Yan doubted her own ears. "What did you say?"
The pet sat in the passenger seat, curled into a ball, trembling. "I went to another private hospital. They said the same thing."
He was terrified, attacking himself with a tone of pure loathing. "I... when I got home, I took off my clothes... it’s really there. Why didn't I notice it lately? Why is this happening..."
In the full-length mirror, the man with the slender build and lean limbs had no excess fat anywhere—except for his abdomen, which had begun to bulge.
Yes, how could it be weight gain? He had barely eaten anything and had been working out constantly. It was impossible for it to be fat.
"Am I... really a monster?" Si Jiang gripped his ankles tightly, his shoulders shaking as he closed his eyes in agony.
He didn't want to see the look of disgust in Zong Yan’s eyes.
"I'm clearly a man, so why—"
"Am I pregnant?"
Zong Yan suppressed her shock, casting aside the whirlwind of thoughts in her mind. She took two deep breaths to steady her expression.
She reached out her right hand, intending to rest it on the pet’s shoulder, but paused. Instead, she slid her hand into the gap where his thighs pressed against his chest. Feeling his body go rigid instantly, she quickly found her target.
She placed her hand gently against Si Jiang’s abdomen, over the area where his abdominal muscles used to be.
"I will find the cause," Zong Yan stated calmly. "And if it’s true, so what?"
Si Jiang slowly lifted his head, his haggard face meeting her gaze.
Zong Yan opened her arms to him.
"So what if you're a monster? I am still your Master."
The pet crawled into her embrace, his body ice-cold.
She held his trembling heart tight and continued, "If we can, we’ll resolve it. If we can't... then this is simply the child you are bearing for me."
"I can afford to raise it."
***
