Pregnant During An Apocalypse [BL]-Chapter 258 - Useless

Muchen gently helped Yunfeng up, careful not to press too hard on his arms or his injured forehead. He guided him slowly, silently, and helped him sit back on the edge of the bed.

Yunfeng didn’t resist. He barely moved.

He just sat there, his hands loosely resting on his thighs, his dull eyes flickering around the room in vain—searching for something they could no longer see.

Muchen’s chest tightened at the sight.

"H-Hana made some lunch... I’ll bring you some," he whispered, his voice hoarse and dry. It cracked slightly at the end, and he swallowed quickly, trying to hold it together.

He glanced at Yunfeng’s forehead—thankfully the bleeding had stopped. Still, a faint red line marked the skin above his brow.

"I’ll just... I’ll bandage it real quick," he mumbled, his hands already moving to grab the small medical kit they kept nearby. He tried to focus on the task, to keep busy. But his eyes betrayed him.

They couldn’t stop glancing back at Yunfeng—at the way his lover’s gaze moved faintly, almost hesitantly, searching. As if he still hadn’t fully accepted that the world around him had gone dark.

And then Muchen saw it.

The vacant flicker in Yunfeng’s eyes. The way his fingers brushed the bed like he was testing where he was sitting. The way his shoulders drooped slightly, even as he sat upright.

It was all too much.

Muchen’s throat closed up. His chest burned. Silent tears began slipping down his cheeks before he even realized it.

He turned away quickly, wiping at his face with the back of his hand. ’No... I can’t break down now. I have to be strong for him.’

He wiped the tears away roughly. Then forced himself to smile, even if it was just for show.

"I’ll be right back, okay?" he said softly. Yunfeng gave a small nod, but didn’t say anything.

Muchen hurried out of the room.

The second the door closed behind him, he let out a shaky breath. His steps were quick, almost frantic, as he moved to the kitchen.

He grabbed another bowl off the shelf, his hands trembling as he tried to hold it steady. He couldn’t even bring himself to carry it yet. Instead, he placed it on the counter with a soft clink.

Zei and Qiu Yue were at the sink, quietly washing the dishes. Hana stood by the open pantry, checking what food supplies they had left. The room was peaceful... quiet.

Until Hana turned, sensing something was wrong. Her gaze moved to Muchen.

"Did Yunfeng...?" she started.

"He woke up..." Muchen said, cutting her off.

He stood frozen, his back half turned to them, his head bowed slightly.

His hands gripped the edge of the counter so hard his knuckles turned white.

"He can’t see..." he mumbled. "Yunfeng... can’t see..."

The words were quiet. But the pain behind them echoed through the room like a crack of thunder.

His breath hitched.

Then came the sobs.

He broke down completely.

His body trembled as the weight of it all crashed down on him. The relief of Yunfeng waking up, the shock of the blindness, the helplessness—it all bled out of him in one messy, unstoppable rush.

Hana rushed forward immediately. She didn’t say anything at first—just pulled him into a tight, fierce hug.

Muchen clung to her, burying his face in her shoulder, his shoulders shaking as he sobbed.

"We... we can heal him," Hana whispered, her own voice breaking now. "That injection... whatever it was. There must be a cure. We’ll find it. We’ll cure him."

She was crying too now. But neither of them pulled away.

Muchen quickly pulled himself together.

He wiped his face with the sleeve of his shirt, dragging it roughly across his eyes, clearing away the tear stains. His breathing was still shaky, but he forced it down. One deep inhale. Then another. His hands trembled slightly as he reached for the bowl again, but this time, he held it steady.

"I’ll bring some food. He must be starving by now," he said softly, more to himself than anyone else.

He moved to the small stove in the corner, reheated the contents just enough, then ladled a generous amount of the warm vegetable noodle soup into the bowl. The familiar scent filled the air—savory, rich, and homely.

"I’ll be right back," he whispered to Hana, offering her a small, fragile smile. "It’ll be okay."

Hana nodded, her eyes still red, face damp with tears. But she believed him. She had to.

Muchen turned and left the kitchen, taking a moment to balance the bowl carefully as he made his way down the hallway. He reached the door and gave it a knock—just loud enough to be cheerful, just loud enough to cover the fear still gnawing at him.

"Lunch is here~" he called, pushing the door open gently. "Hana made some good noodle soup. I tell you, I was quite surprised she could even cook."

He placed the bowl on the side table, chuckling softly.

Yunfeng smiled faintly at the sound of his voice. "Yeah... Mom taught her that. She could only cook noodle soup—nothing else. Anything else, she’d burn it crisp."

Muchen carefully picked up the bowl and a spoon, then sat beside him on the bed.

He gently guided both into Yunfeng’s hands. "Here," he said softly. "It’s still warm."

Yunfeng held the bowl with both hands, the heat seeping into his palms. It grounded him, comforted him. Slowly, he ladled some soup into the spoon and brought it toward his mouth.

But his sense of direction was off.

Half of it spilled down his chin and dripped onto his shirt. The sudden heat startled him, and he jerked his hand, dropping the spoon with a quiet clang onto the bed.

"Oh... I dropped it," he muttered, lips quirking in a wry, defeated smile.

He patted the bed blindly, trying to feel for where the spoon had gone. "I’ll find it..."

Before he could fumble further, a warm hand gently closed around his searching fingers.

"Here," Muchen whispered, placing the spoon back into his hand with quiet patience.

Yunfeng’s fingers curled around it. He smiled softly. "Thanks, Muchen..."

This time, he ate more carefully, though it was still clumsy. Each bite took effort. Each spoonful was slow, sometimes a little shaky. But Muchen didn’t say anything. He just sat quietly beside him, watching, ready to help if needed.

By the time Yunfeng finished the bowl, it had taken a long while.

"I’ll wash the bowl and come back with a washcloth," Muchen said gently, taking the empty bowl from his hands. "Let’s wipe that away from your clothes before it sets in."

Yunfeng nodded quietly.

Muchen left the room with the bowl, closing the door behind him.

Alone now, Yunfeng sat there, still for a moment.

Then he slowly reached down, touching his shirt where the soup had spilled. The fabric was still warm and damp.

He stood up carefully.

His bare feet touched the ground and he moved with tentative steps, using his hands to feel his way across the room. One slow step at a time, until his hand brushed a wall. Then the edge of a doorframe. He followed it, feeling until he found the doorknob.

The bathroom.

He opened the door and stepped inside, one cautious foot forward—

His foot slipped.

He didn’t see the puddle on the floor. Couldn’t have.

His leg slid out from under him and with a loud thud, he collapsed to the cold tile floor, his body sprawled awkwardly against the hard ground.

For a moment, he just lay there.

The cold bit into his skin. His hands curled into fists. His teeth clenched.

Then it broke.

He couldn’t hold it in any longer.

Loud, guttural sobs burst from his chest. Harsh, painful sounds that echoed off the bathroom walls. He pressed his palms to his face, but it didn’t muffle anything. The tears came fast—hot and endless.

He couldn’t even go to the bathroom on his own.

He was useless now.