“Su Bai, what are you doing here? Are you pregnant? Why did you go to the sonography department?”

  A thick, rough voice shattered the silence, firing questions like bullets.

  Su Bai paused mid-step, turning around to see Li Jin standing there, his expression a mix of suspicion and disdain.

  Oh, Li Jin.

  Li Jin, the protagonist shou’s loyal ckey, a mere supporting character in the grand drama of life. But to Su Bai, this “best friend” from childhood had become a thorn. The betrayal still stung; Li Jin had jumped ship to the protagonist’s side in high school, all because he believed Su Bai bullied his frail younger brother.

  Bullied? Su Bai scoffed internally. What had he done, really? He’d excelled in studies, singing, and life while his sickly brother remained in the shadows. But to others, his success was “showing off,” a twisted narrative that painted him as the vilin.

  “Why don’t you answer me? Did you seduce Gu Min? Don’t forget—you snatched your dead brother’s groom! Don’t you have any shame? How could you be so heartless—”

  Su Bai didn’t let him finish. Without a word, he turned and walked away, his back straight and his expression indifferent. Years of dealing with such baseless accusations had hardened him. People venting their anger on him had become as common as breathing. Their words were nothing more than background noise—like a bad smell he had long since learned to ignore.

  Behind him, Li Jin froze, bewildered. How dare Su Bai ignore him? The Su Bai he remembered would have turned red with anger, his eyes brimming with unshed tears. But now? He walked away without a care.

  Li Jin clenched his fists, his pride bruised. He wanted to chase after him, but his mother was waiting for her checkup. Gritting his teeth, he muttered, “Next time I see you, it won’t be this easy.”

  Su Bai checked into his hotel room, exhaling softly as he closed the door behind him. Finally, some peace. He ordered one soup and three side dishes before heading to the bathroom to shower.

  Sinking into the warm water, he allowed himself a rare moment of rexation. His thoughts drifted to the day’s events, a sense of accomplishment filling him. No major incidents, no unnecessary drama—he’d survived another day.

  The soft light in the bathroom illuminated his milky-white skin, the water droplets sliding down his body in mesmerizing trails. His reflection in the steamed-up mirror was hazy, almost unrecognizable. Clearing the vapor with a hand, he studied his features—a delicate face with androgynous and feminine traits that had always been both a blessing and a curse.

  After donning a loose blue bathrobe, which made his skin appear even fairer, he blow-dried his hair slowly. By the time he emerged, his food had arrived.

  Opening the door, he stepped aside for the server to wheel in the cart. Su Bai turned to grab his phone, his mind occupied with thoughts of the hospital and the pending updates. But when he gnced back, the waiter was still there, lingering awkwardly by the door.

  Su Bai raised an eyebrow, his gaze questioning.

  The waiter quickly bowed his head. “Apologies for my rudeness,” he muttered before hurrying out of the room.

  Su Bai frowned slightly but shrugged it off, assuming it was nothing more than a pse in professionalism. Unbeknownst to him, the waiter was already sending a message to an unknown number, his hands trembling as he typed out Su Bai’s location.

  In the chaotic haze of a nightclub, the music was deafening, the air heavy with the scent of alcohol and lust. On a leather couch in a secluded corner, a young man sat boredly, cradling a smaller boy in his p. His fingers pinched the boy’s waist absently, eliciting a soft whimper.

  Gu Erqi gnced at his phone, the screen lighting up with a message. His eyes narrowed as he read it, a sneer curling his lips.

  “That ridiculous sister-in-w,” he muttered under his breath. “Staying in a hotel when there’s a perfectly good house avaible. What, trying to embarrass us in front of the high society?”

  His grip on the boy’s waist tightened, earning a startled gasp. The boy’s face paled, his eyes reddening, but he dared not protest.

  “Why so sensitive?” Gu Erqi’s voice was cold, mocking. “Can’t wait, huh? Just as lewd as that person—always seducing others.”

  The boy bit his lip, tears threatening to spill, but Gu Erqi wasn’t done. He grasped the boy’s chin harshly, his nails digging into the soft skin, and kissed him with a brutality that left the boy breathless.

  When he finally pulled away, he tossed a key card onto the couch. “Go to the room,” he ordered before leaving the boy trembling and alone.

  Meanwhile, Su Bai finished his meal, his hand unconsciously resting on his stomach. A small, fond smile graced his lips. He tidied up before lying down, exhaustion pulling him into a deep sleep.

  But peace was fleeting.

  “Leave… leave me alone!”

  Su Bai thrashed in his sleep, his body drenched in sweat. His cries echoed in the empty room, the remnants of a nightmare gripping him tightly. Tears streamed down his face as he curled into himself, his voice breaking with grief.

  When he finally woke, his heart was racing, his breathing shallow. He y there, staring at the ceiling, his eyes lifeless. Memories of the past flooded his mind, suffocating him. Why was he alive again? Death had been so peaceful, so quiet.

  The morning light filtered through the curtains, bathing the room in a soft glow. It fell on Su Bai’s tear-streaked face, but he remained motionless, his body weighed down by despair.

  A sudden ringtone broke the silence, startling him. His trembling fingers reached for the phone, his gaze dull as he read the message from the hospital. They had confirmed the meeting time with the child care association.

  Su Bai sat up slowly, his body heavy with fatigue. He dragged himself to the bathroom, staring at his pale, exhausted reflection. Taking a deep breath, he whispered to himself, “I have responsibilities. I can’t fall apart.”

  He opened his diary, the familiar act grounding him. Carefully, he wrote the words:

  I have to live. I have to.

  He repeated them silently, over and over, until they became a mantra.

  With renewed determination, Su Bai straightened his shoulders. He couldn’t forget his promise—to give a child a home, to protect the life growing inside him. No matter how broken he felt, he would keep moving forward.

  For them, he had to live.