I co back to consciousness in pieces.
Voices first, muffled, urgent, and overlapping.
"Runze, can you hear ?"
"Should we call an ambulance?"
"Give him space, let him breathe..."
Then pain. Dull throb at the back of my skull where it hit sothing hard, the floor, probably.
I open my eyes.
Three faces hover above . Father looking uncomfortable, Mother pale and tight-lipped, Feifei with tears tracking down her cheeks.
"Oh thank god." Feifei’s voice cracks with relief. "You’re awake."
I try to sit up. The room spins violently and I have to close my eyes again.
"Don’t move yet." Mother’s hand presses my shoulder down. "You fainted, just stay still for a mont."
"...How long was I out?"
"Maybe thirty seconds." Father glances at his watch. "You fell down hard and hit the table on the way."
That explains the headache.
Feifei is already pulling out her phone. "I’m calling a doctor."
"No, I’m fine..."
"You’re not fine!" Her hands are shaking. "You just collapsed! You’ve been sick for weeks and you barely eat anything and..." She stops, voice breaking.
Mother’s expression shifts from concern to decision. "We’re taking you to the hospital. Now."
"I don’t need..."
"That wasn’t a question." She’s already standing, grabbing her purse from the counter. "Get up, carefully."
Father helps to my feet, the room tilts again but stays mostly stable this ti, I grip his arm until everything settles.
"I have that conference call at one-thirty..." Father starts.
"Then go take it." Mother’s voice is clipped and efficient. "I’ll handle this."
Feifei bites her lip, looking torn. "The caterer appointnt..."
"I can go alone," Feifei says quickly. "You should take him to get checked out."
"Feifei, we were supposed to go together..."
"I know, but this is more important. I can handle the nu finalization." Feifei squeezes my hand. "Just make sure he’s okay."
Mother hesitates, then nods. "Alright. Call if you need anything."
"I will. Go."
***
The car ride is mostly silent.
Mother drives with sharp precision, hands tight on the wheel, I lean against the window and focus on not vomiting.
"You’re seeing a doctor whether you like it or not," she says after a few minutes. Not angry, just stating fact.
"I know."
"Good."
That’s all she says until we pull up to Huaren Hospital.
Mother parks and reaches for her door handle, but I stop her.
"You should go et Feifei."
She turns to look at . "What?"
"At the caterer. You were supposed to go together, and she’s going to need help with all those decisions." I unbuckle my seatbelt. "I can handle this on my own."
"You just fainted."
"And now I’m awake. I’ll see the doctor, get so tests done, and call you when I’m finished." I open my door. "There’s no reason for both of you to miss the appointnt."
Mother studies for a long mont, clearly calculating whether this is acceptable.
"Two hours," she says finally. "If I don’t hear from you in two hours, I’m coming back."
"Deal."
She drives away and I’m alone.
***
The clinic waiting room is busier than I expected.
A beta woman fills out paperwork at the reception desk. Two alphas sit together near the window, one reading a magazine. An elderly oga talks quietly with soone who might be their adult child. And scattered throughout, maybe four or five pregnant ogas in various stages.
I approach the reception desk, trying not to look at any of them.
"I called ahead," I tell the nurse. "Li Runze. I fainted about forty minutes ago."
She types sothing into her computer. "Right, yes. The doctor wants to run so tests, blood work and a physical exam. Is that alright?"
"Yes."
She hands a clipboard with forms. "Fill these out and we’ll call you back shortly."
I take a seat as far from everyone else as possible.
The form is standard. Na, age, designation (I tick the oga box), dical history, current dications, allergies.
Current symptoms: I write nausea, fatigue, and fainting.
Last heat cycle: I pause. The heat at Bael’s estate was maybe three weeks ago? I write down an approximation.
Are you currently sexually active: My pen hovers. I tick yes.
Do you use contraceptives: No.
Could you be pregnant:
I stare at the question.
My hand is shaking slightly.
I tick no.
Because I’m not. I can’t be. This is just stress, or dehydration, or sothing else. Sothing fixable.
I finish the form and return it to the desk.
Back in my seat, I count ceiling tiles and try not to think.
Fifteen minutes later, a nurse calls my na.
She leads to an examination room and takes vitals. Blood pressure low. Temperature normal. Weight down from what’s listed in their system, she notes that with a small frown.
"The doctor wants a full blood panel," she says, wrapping a tourniquet around my arm. "We’ll check for anemia, thyroid issues, blood sugar irregularities, anything that might cause fainting and your other symptoms."
She draws three vials, labels them carefully.
"Results should be ready in about thirty to forty minutes. You can wait in the main area."
***
Back in the waiting room, I count tiles again.
Forty-two across, thirty-one down, one thousand, three hundred and two total.
My phone buzzes. Feifei: *At the caterer now. How are you feeling? Any news yet?*
: *Still waiting on test results. I’m fine.*
Feifei: *Let know as soon as you hear anything. Love you.*
I set my phone face-down on the chair beside .
Across from , a pregnant oga shifts in their seat, hand resting on their bump. They can’t be very far along, maybe three or four months based on the size.
I look away.
Count the tiles again.
Another pregnant oga walks past with their alpha partner, heading toward the examination rooms. They’re laughing about sothing, relaxed and happy.
I focus on my phone screen and check the ti, only eight minutes have passed.
The nausea is still there, that constant low-level queasiness that’s been my companion for weeks. The exhaustion sits heavy in my bones despite doing nothing but lying in bed.
These are symptoms of sothing.
Dehydration, maybe, or low blood sugar like Mother said, stress.
A virus.
Anything.
The pregnant oga across from stands and waddles toward the bathroom, moving carefully.
I count tiles.
My mind won’t stay quiet.
The nausea started maybe two or three weeks ago, not sudden, gradual, getting worse over ti.
The exhaustion around the sa ti.
Food aversions ca next, everything tastes wrong, slls wrong.
Heightened sense of sll.
Those are clearly symptoms of.....
No.
It can’t be.
These are symptoms of a lot of things. Stress does all of this, I’ve been under incredible stress, anyone would be sick.
The nurse said they’re testing for thyroid issues. That causes fatigue and nausea.
Anemia causes fatigue.
Low blood sugar causes fainting.
It’s one of those things, sothing simple, sothing with a prescription and a treatnt plan.
Not...
A pregnant oga returns from the bathroom and sits back down, scrolling through their phone with one hand while the other rests on their stomach.
I look at the clock.
Twenty-three minutes.
The waiting room is too warm, or maybe I’m too warm, I can’t tell anymore.
I should eat sothing, that’s probably the problem. I haven’t eaten a proper al in days, maybe weeks, of course my body is shutting down.
Once I get the test results back showing low blood sugar or anemia or thyroid problems, I’ll start eating again. Force myself and it’ll be fine.
It has to be fine.
Thirty-eight minutes after the blood draw, the nurse appears in the doorway.
"Mr. Li? The doctor will see you now."
I stand on shaking legs and follow her down a hallway.
She leads to a consultation room where a Doctor sits behind a desk, looking at a computer screen. He’s older, maybe late fifties, with gray at his temples and a professional deanor.
"Mr. Li." He gestures to the chair across from him. "Please, sit."
I sit.
My hands grip the armrests.
He’s quiet for a mont, reading whatever is on his screen, then he turns to face , expression neutral.
"Your test results ca out."
I can’t breathe properly but I nod.
He folds his hands on the desk.
"Congratulations, Mr. Li. You’re five weeks pregnant."
The words hit like ice water.
Five weeks pregnant.
Five weeks pregnant.
Five weeks pregnant.
The phrase repeats in my head, over and over, each repetition making it more real and more impossible at the sa ti.
Five weeks pregnant.
You’re five weeks pregnant.
Pregnant.
Five weeks.
Pregnant pregnant pregnant—
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