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墨書 Inktalez
"Push! Push!"
The doctor shouted loudly beside her, and Ling Xue gritted her teeth, summoning every ounce of strength within her. Each effort was accompanied by excruciating pain, but she knew she was welcoming a new life into the world.
Ling Xue lay on the delivery bed, her face pale and sweat soaking her hair.
"Just a little more! The baby is almost here!" The doctor's voice was filled with encouragement. Ling Xue took a deep breath and pushed again.
Finally, a clear, piercing cry shattered the tense atmosphere.
"It's here! It's here! It's a boy!" the doctor announced joyfully. Ling Xue smiled wearily, tears of happiness shimmering in her eyes.
They named the new life Liu Yichen. This name carried their beautiful hopes for their child, wishing for him to live comfortably and happily in the days to come, shining like the stars.
Months later, when Ling Xue learned that she was pregnant again, a wave of complex emotions surged within her. She had just endured the pain and exhaustion of childbirth, and now faced pregnancy once more; a sense of fear enveloped her instantly.
She recalled the scene from her last delivery—the intense pain, the doctor's constant urging to push, and the mingled joy and fatigue at the moment of birth—all of it left her with lingering apprehension. Now, as a new life grew within her again, she questioned whether she had enough courage and strength to experience it all once more.
Ling Xue felt an overwhelming sense of anxiety and unease; she feared the pain of childbirth, the unknown risks, and whether she could cope with the challenges ahead. This fear of being pregnant shadowed her relentlessly, plunging her into deep distress.
Suddenly, it felt as if the entire world had shattered around her. The air seemed to freeze, creating a silence that pressed heavily upon her. Ling Xue stood there in confusion as her world fragmented in that moment.
In the dimly lit room, faint light filtered through the cracks in the window, casting shadows on Ling Xue's pale face.
She desperately tried to distinguish between illusion and reality; however, the boundary between them blurred so much that she could not tell them apart.
Her gaze slowly shifted downward, and when she saw a bug at the base of her thigh, an indescribable fear and confusion surged within her.
That bug had somehow transformed into a pupa without her noticing. This change left Ling Xue even more bewildered; she did not understand what it meant or where she truly was.
At that moment, Ling Xue felt her consciousness beginning to fade as if being drawn into the pupa. Her heart raced, and her breathing quickened.
She tried to reach out with her hand but found herself unable to move; it felt as if her entire body had fallen into a deep slumber.
Ling Xue slowly opened her eyes to reveal an unfamiliar scene unfolding before her. The surrounding buildings were ancient yet elegant, subtly hinting at modern technological influences.
She attempted to recall memories—vaguely remembering a giant bug and countless whirlpools—only for a sharp pain to pierce through her head as those memories became hazy and indistinct.
Faintly, she remembered being an elite in a modern city with lovers, friends, and children. Yet now, she found herself transformed into an unnamed woman on Youyue Continent, dressed in simple ancient garments that she could not recall acquiring.
Ling Xue wandered through the streets, gazing at hurried passersby filled with confusion in her heart. This world felt so foreign to her; she was lost regarding what lay ahead.
During her days wandering the streets, hunger forced her to scavenge for scraps along the roadside; when exhaustion struck, she curled up in some corner to rest.
Just when despair threatened to consume her entirely, she encountered Zhao Gang. Zhao Gang appeared to be a kind old man dressed in fine clothes, his eyes revealing a glimmer of shrewdness.
Zhao Gang stared at Ling Xue, momentarily frozen in place, and without realizing it, a glistening tear began to flow from the corner of his mouth.
She wore a simple yet elegant ancient outfit, the soft fabric dancing gently in the breeze as if merging with the surrounding air. Her delicate features resembled that of a porcelain doll, shining brilliantly under the sunlight. Her arched eyebrows, reminiscent of a crescent moon, were slightly raised, exuding a playful charm. Her eyes, clear and bright like water, seemed to hold countless stars within them—radiant and profound, capable of ensnaring anyone who dared to gaze into them.
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