Pregnant During An Apocalypse [BL]-Chapter 245 - Dead don’t talk

Yunfeng gripped Muchen’s jacket tightly as they moved through the thick fog. He leaned slightly on him for support, but it wasn’t the pain in his shoulder that made his steps falter.

It was the silence inside his senses.

No scent.

Nothing.

The familiar rose pheromone trace that always lingered around Muchen... gone.

The faint smell of dust, blood, metal... gone.

He blinked—uselessly. His vision had faded to darkness not long after the old commander stabbed him with that damned syringe. At first, he thought it was the fog. But now, he knew.

He was blind.

And numb. Not from the pain—he could feel the gunshot wound screaming at him—but from something else, something deeper. Something that had been a part of him since the virus entered his body was now gone, snuffed out like a flame.

He tried not to show it, tried to keep steady, but his breath trembled ever so slightly.

"Can you see what I’m holding in front of you?" Muchen asked softly, his voice low, concerned.

Yunfeng paused.

There was a beat of silence.

He smiled faintly and shook his head, brushing it off like it was nothing. "It’s okay," he mumbled, fumbling slightly in the air before his fingers found Muchen’s outstretched hand. He gripped it, tightly, like a lifeline.

But inside, he was breaking.

’I can’t see. I can’t smell. I can’t sense anything. How the hell am I supposed to protect him now?’

’How am I supposed to take care of him—of us?’

’We just... we just made peace with our feelings. We just found a reason to survive together. And now—this?’

’I’m useless like this.’

’I’m supposed to keep him safe. I promised I’d be there. And what about—’

His thoughts halted, dread creeping in.

’What about the child?’

’I have to survive. I have to.’

’But what if I can’t?’

The metallic scent of blood—he couldn’t smell it, but he could feel it. Dripping down his side. The warmth of it. The way it soaked through the layers of his shirt and jacket. There was too much of it.

He’d been wounded before. And it had always stopped—his body always knew how to handle it. But now?

The bleeding didn’t stop.

The cold was creeping up his spine. His fingertips felt numb. His legs trembled.

"Yunfeng?" Muchen’s whispered close to his ear.

"I’m fine," Yunfeng said again, but the words came out thinner this time.

Muchen stopped walking. He turned toward him, both hands cupping his face gently. "You’re not fine."

Yunfeng tried to speak, but a cough wracked his chest instead. Muchen pulled him into a firmer hold.

"We’ll figure this out," he whispered. "I promise. But you have to stop pretending you’re okay."

Yunfeng said nothing. He just pressed his forehead into Muchen’s chest, breathing shallow, as the cold seeped deeper into his bones and his thoughts spun into fear he couldn’t voice aloud.

Lu Zhi silently bandaged the wound.

"wait, stuff it with this." Hana ran up to him and took out a bunch of tampons from her bag.

Lu Zhi and Muchen quickly helped stop the bleeding by stuffing it with tampons and bandaging it tight. For now it was okay but they had to suture the wound soon. But they can do that in the middle of the road in a unsterile environment.

Muchen clenched his teeth so hard his jaw ached. He held Yunfeng tighter than before, pretending it was just to help steady him. But inside, he was barely keeping it together.

Yunfeng couldn’t see a thing. That much was obvious now. His eyes didn’t focus on anything. He didn’t even react when Muchen raised his hand in front of him. Yet still—still—Yunfeng smiled, pretending nothing was wrong.

It hurt. God, it hurt more than anything.

Even standing was difficult for him. His legs kept trembling, and each step was unsteady, like the ground beneath him was unreliable. And through all that, he still tried to act like it was fine. That he could manage. That he wasn’t falling apart inside.

Muchen’s fingers curled into fists behind Yunfeng’s back. A tight lump formed in his throat. He forced the tears not to come out. He couldn’t let them show. Not now.

He had to be strong. Yunfeng needed him.

But his eyes drifted to the thick fog nearby—where the old commander had vanished.

That syringe...

What the hell was that thing? What did he do to Yunfeng?

Muchen’s face hardened. His eyes, usually calm and soft around Yunfeng, burned with cold fury. He gently turned to Lu Zhi, who was watching them closely, concern written across his face.

"Help me hold him," Muchen said quietly. Then to Yunfeng, softer still, "I’ll be back in a second, okay? Stay here with Lu Zhi."

"No! Muchen! Don’t go!" Yunfeng’s voice cracked with panic. He stumbled forward, trying to reach him, but his foot caught on a corpse in the rubble. He fell hard, scraping his hand on broken concrete.

"Yunfeng—!" Muchen’s breath caught, and his hands moved instinctively. freewёbn૦νeɭ.com

But Lu Zhi was quicker. He caught Yunfeng and lifted him up gently, dusting off his jacket. "It’s okay. I’ve got you."

Muchen stood frozen for a moment, taking in the sight.

His Yunfeng—usually confident, clever, quick to tease—was now clinging to Lu Zhi, face pale, hands trembling, completely unable to defend himself. Helpless.

And it broke something inside Muchen.

He let out a silent sob and quickly wiped it away before anyone could see.

Bending down, he kissed Yunfeng’s cheek. "My love... it’s going to be fine. I’ll make you okay again. I promise. I’ll only be away for a few minutes, alright?"

"Muchen..." Yunfeng whispered, reaching out again, fingers searching the air.

But Muchen didn’t let him finish. He turned and ran into the fog.

The further he went, the thicker the mist became, clinging to his skin like damp cotton. His gun was raised, eyes sharp. Then—movement. A smudge of a body slumped beside a military vehicle. Muchen crept closer.

There he was.

The old commander.

He was collapsed halfway behind a jeep, his body riddled with bullet wounds. Blood soaked the ground around him, mixing with dirt and oil. His breathing was ragged, shallow.

Muchen stormed forward and yanked him up by the collar, slamming him against the vehicle door. "What did you inject him with?!" he growled, voice low and furious. "Tell me right now!"

The commander’s eyelids fluttered open slightly. His lips parted, but no words came out—only a weak gurgle.

Muchen shook him, voice harsher. "What was in the syringe? What the hell did you do to him?!"

The commander coughed, blood trailing down his chin. He barely managed to lift one hand before it dropped again limply. His mouth twitched, as if he was trying to form words, but the light in his eyes was already dimming.

"Answer me, damn it!" Muchen shouted, grabbing the front of the man’s vest again, but it was no use.

The old commander slumped completely, his head lolling to the side.

Dead.

Muchen stood still for a moment, breathing heavily, his hand still fisted in the dead man’s uniform. He stared at the lifeless face in front of him, frustration bubbling inside his chest. The one man who knew what had been done to Yunfeng was gone.

Muchen let out a sharp, pained breath, releasing his grip. "Shit."

He stood there for a beat longer, the fog swirling around him like a shroud. Then he kicked the side of the vehicle hard, once, the metal ringing out into the silence.

Without another word, he turned and sprinted back through the fog.

When Muchen returned, Yunfeng was sitting on the ground, propped against a broken wall, his face turned toward the sound of footsteps. His fingers were curled into the fabric of his pants, knuckles white.

Lu Zhi stood nearby, arms crossed, watching the fog with a grim expression. He glanced at Muchen as he approached. "Dead?"

Muchen nodded, jaw tight. "Before he could talk."

Yunfeng exhaled, slow and shaky. "So we don’t know what he gave me."

Muchen crouched in front of him, hands gripping Yunfeng’s knees. "We’ll figure it out. There has to be someone else who knows—another lab, another doctor. We’ll find them."

Yunfeng’s lips pressed into a thin line. He reached out, fingers brushing Muchen’s arm, tracing up to his shoulder, then his face. His touch was careful, searching, as if memorizing him by feel alone.

Muchen caught his hand, holding it against his cheek. "I’m not leaving you."

Yunfeng’s throat worked. "I know."

A moment passed, heavy with unspoken fears. Then Lu Zhi cleared his throat. "We should move. If the commander had reinforcements, they’ll be coming soon."

Muchen nodded, standing. He helped Yunfeng up, keeping an arm around him as they started forward again.

Yunfeng’s steps were slow, unsteady, but he didn’t complain. He just leaned into Muchen’s side, letting him guide them through the ruins.

And Muchen held him tighter, silently swearing to himself that no matter what, he’d find a way to fix this.

Even if it killed him.