Chapter 1

My ex-boyfriend called out of the blue.

His voice was hesitant.

“I'm… pregnant.”

I froze for ten seconds, then ground my teeth and forced down my anger.

“Think that through again. Are you really the one who's pregnant?”

He sounded frightened now. His voice trembled.

“I really am… It's yours.”

I couldn't take it anymore.

I slammed a hand on the table and shot to my feet.

“Are you kidding me? Shen Xinglin, you're a man! How the hell are you pregnant?”

He offered no explanation.

Just hurriedly ended the call, telling me to meet him at our usual place in half an hour.

With extremely mixed feelings, I went.

Through the floor-to-ceiling windows, I watched his familiar black Maserati pull slowly into the parking lot.

Then Shen Xinglin pushed open the door.

I leaned back on the sofa, wineglass in hand, and looked up as he approached.

His black suit was perfectly tailored to his tall, well-proportioned figure.

Cool. Aloof. Untouchable.

His impossibly handsome face remained expressionless.

Several women at the next table kept stealing glances.

I frowned at him, beginning to doubt that phone call.

Was he playing a joke?

Unless he'd damaged his brain, I refused to believe those words had come out of his mouth.

Or was someone pranking us both?

While I was still thinking, he sat down opposite me.

A server came over.

“What would you like, sir?”

“A glass of milk.”

I choked on my wine.

“M-milk?”

The Shen Xinglin I knew had come to a bar and ordered milk?

The server glanced at the wine in my hand, looked faintly surprised, then nodded.

“Right away, sir.”

“Mm.”

Shen Xinglin glanced at me.

His expression suddenly softened.

He gently rubbed his stomach.

“Alcohol isn't good for the baby. I won't drink anymore.”

This time, I nearly choked to death.

Watching a man—

Shen Xinglin, of all people—

stroke his belly and talk about alcohol being bad for his baby…

It was like humanity had just discovered a ninth wonder of the world.

I gaped at him, frozen for a full five seconds.

“Stop joking, Shen Xinglin!”

I thumped my glass onto the table.

“What exactly are you playing at?”

He instinctively covered his stomach and shrank into the corner of the sofa like a startled rabbit.

His eyes were anxious.

“Don't yell at me… You'll frighten the baby.”

I went completely blank.

That expression.

Those movements.

That tone.

Could they really belong to the cold, commanding Shen Xinglin?

I stared.

Once I'd calmed down a little, suspicion stirred.

He didn't look as though he was acting.

And who would deliberately make such a ridiculous spectacle of himself?

Unless…

Something had happened to him?

The thought wiped out my anger.

Worried, I stood and sat beside him.

He still clutched his stomach in the corner, watching me warily.

When he seemed to decide I wasn't angry anymore, he slowly edged closer.

First, I checked his forehead.

Not hot.

At least a fever hadn't cooked his brain.

I took a deep breath and tried to sound calm.

“Shen Xinglin, why are you saying you're pregnant?”

He gave me a shy glance, unbuttoned his suit jacket, and gently guided my wrist to his belly.

His face glowed with happiness.

“Look. My belly's grown. The baby's in there.”

My eyes nearly popped out of my head.

His stomach…

Really did bulge.

I immediately reached to unbutton his white shirt.

Impossible!

How could this happen?

Blushing, he caught my hand.

“Could you… behave yourself? We're still in public…”

“Shen Xinglin!”

Having felt the truth for myself, I snapped his full name.

“Strapping a little pillow to your stomach doesn't make you pregnant!”

“But I am!”

He glared at me, wounded.

As though I were some heartless cad abandoning him and our child.

“If you don't want me and the baby, just say so. Stop making excuses!”

“Huh?”

Blank again.

I pointed at his stomach.

“You mean… this baby… is mine?”

He nodded firmly.

His long lashes lowered, shy and aggrieved.

“You're the only one I've ever had. Whose else would it be?”

It felt as though a whole string of lightning bolts had struck my head.

Charred me right through.

I was still so young.

Unmarried.

And now I had a child?

A child that was…

the little pillow inside my ex-boyfriend's shirt?

In a few short minutes, my understanding of the world had collapsed, rebuilt itself, and collapsed again.

Only rubble remained.

“Xinglin.”

I looked at him anxiously.

“Let's go to the hospital.”

Get his head treated.

And my heart while we were at it.

But the word “hospital” put him on instant alert.

He clutched his stomach and shot back into the sofa corner, watching me defensively.

Even his eyes reddened.

“I'm not going to the hospital for an abortion! This is my baby! Even if you don't want it, I won't give it up. I'll have it and raise it myself!”

Me: “?”

Meaning what?

Give birth to… a pillow?

Then add more stuffing until it grew into a bigger pillow?

Was that a thing humans could do?

After a moment's hesitation, I took out my phone.

In this situation…

Was I supposed to call 110 or 120?

Just then, someone called out.

“Madam! Mr. Shen is here!”

A richly dressed middle-aged woman hurried over.

Only when she saw him did she press a hand to her chest and breathe out.

“You scared your mother to death! I've finally found you.”

To me, she looked like salvation.

“Auntie! Thank goodness you're here!”

Shen Xinglin's mother.

He'd taken me to meet her once.

She looked at her son, then took my hand apologetically.

“I'm sorry, Xiaoxin. Xinglin's caused you trouble.”

“It's all right.”

I shook my head and lowered my voice.

“Auntie, what's happened to him?”

She sighed.

“He's… seriously ill.”

My heart lurched.

“What illness?”

“Something wrong with his brain,” she said matter-of-factly.

“…”

Ten minutes later, I sat beside his mother in the back seat of the car as she explained.

He'd been perfectly normal yesterday.

It had all started before dawn.

Apparently, he'd had a nightmare, fallen out of bed, and hit his head hard.

When he got up, he'd become a different person.

He insisted on stuffing a pillow under his shirt and demanding to find the baby's mother and make her take responsibility.

His mother had panicked and tried to take him to the hospital.

One moment of inattention, and he'd escaped.

I swallowed and couldn't help looking over at him.

Head lowered, he stroked his belly.

Gentle. Peaceful.

Murmuring something to the “pillow baby.”

“But how did you know he'd come looking for me?” I asked.

She gave me a look.

“Who else would be his baby's mother?”

I didn't answer.

Just instinctively glanced at Shen Xinglin again.

Apparently, he hadn't told his parents we'd broken up.

We'd dated for over a year.

Broken up a few days ago.

I'd been the one to suggest it.

The reason was simple.

He was a workaholic.

Our daily chat history went like this:

…

Me: There?

Him: Working.

Me: Finished?

Him: Yes. In a meeting now.

Me: Is the meeting over?

Him: Yes.

Me: Then let's talk. I miss you.

Him: Okay. Once I finish work.

Me: Why are you always working? Too busy to want a girlfriend anymore? Do you know how long it's been since you spent time with me?

Him: I'll spend time with you once I finish work.

Me: …

Me: Let's break up.

Him: Not now. I'm working.

So…

…

Besides, he was romantically clueless.

Terminally so.

Apart from transferring money, he knew nothing.

Other boyfriends carefully chose birthday presents.

He handed me a card.

“Buy whatever you like. Five-million-yuan limit. There's more if that's not enough.”

Other boyfriends took their girlfriends to films or amusement parks on weekends.

He asked, “Where do you want to go? All right. I've booked the whole place. Go by yourself and have fun.”

Other boyfriends bought milk tea and heat patches and called to comfort their girlfriends through period cramps.

He silently transferred 99,999 yuan.

The note:

Drink more hot water.

In short…

If money could solve it, he refused to involve feelings.

But I didn't need money.

I wanted an ordinary relationship.

At the very least, my boyfriend should be a human being, not a pile of cash.

Even that I might have endured.

The worst part?

He was practically a walking monk.

Forget intimacy.

No touching. No kissing.

Always cold, always abstinent.

No matter how much I wanted him, he wouldn't let me touch a finger.

Except once, when he got drunk…

And caused a major disaster…

Never mind that.

I'd endured a year.

I couldn't stand the indifference anymore.

So I returned every cent he'd ever given me.

And asked to break up.

I hadn't expected…

this.

“Madam, we're at the hospital.”

The Shen family's driver stopped.

“Come on,” his mother said.

I looked from her to Shen Xinglin.

Opened my mouth, then stopped.

In the end, I didn't tell her the truth.

I simply got out with her.

“Come on, Xinglin. Let's see the doctor.”