The Little Brat's Sweet And Sassy Chapter 1250 - Side Story 29: And a Letter to His Wife

1250 Side Story 29: A Letter to His Wife

The day he discovered Gu Tingyin was pregnant, the weather was exceptionally clear.

Warm sunlight filtered through the glass, spilling directly onto the desk. She stood on her tiptoes, hurriedly pulling down a book from the shelf.

Shen Zhijin reached out, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind and holding her securely.

“What are you looking for? Let me get it for you.”

Gu Tingyin twisted her head to face him, her almond-shaped eyes shimmering with excitement.

“Sunspot! The Black Hole and Time Warp! No, no, wait—The Universe in a Nutshell! Or maybe The Physical Universe is better?”

Shen Zhijin chuckled softly.

“Why the sudden interest in these?”

She would usually start these books with great energy, only to abandon them midway, waving her hand as if she had no further care for them. Eventually, she would toss the volume toward him. If he studied for too long, she would invariably swoop in, reclaim the book, and throw herself into his arms.

Gu Tingyin’s almond eyes widened, her expression becoming unexpectedly grave.

“It’s prenatal education! We must start immediately, of course! What if Tangtang turns out like me and struggles with physics?”

‘Tangtang’ was the nickname they had just decided upon for the baby.

She gestured toward the bookshelf again, murmuring, “Are those not enough? Why don’t you help Tangtang pick some more, Ah Jin?”

Shen Zhijin paused, clearly startled that this was the very first thing on her mind. His elegant eyebrows relaxed as a smile touched his lips.

“Isn’t this a bit premature?”

Gu Tingyin huffed.

“How is it premature? We have to work hard right from the start!”

Shen Zhijin helped her retrieve the chosen books.

“Would you like me to read them with you?”

Gu Tingyin nodded fervently.

“If there’s something I don’t grasp, you can explain it straight to Tangtang!”

The two of them sat down together at the desk.

Gu Tingyin lowered her gaze to her still-flat stomach and issued a serious warning, “Tangtang, you must study hard and be just as brilliant as your daddy! Mommy even got you a telescope and a Nebula Atlas!”

Having said that, she picked up The Physical Universe from the pile and opened it with intense focus.

…

Fifteen minutes later, Gu Tingyin had only managed to reach the second page.

She was fighting back waves of sleepiness, her head bobbing uncontrollably as her eyelids fluttered.

Shen Zhijin reached out, intending to carry her to bed.

“Are you tired?”

She snapped back to reality, shaking her head vigorously in denial.

“No, I’m not! I haven’t finished the book yet!”

Even as she spoke, she stared daggers at the page in a futile attempt to stay awake. Less than a minute passed before the text blurred, and her eyelids began to droop again.

Struggling against her exhaustion, she mumbled nonsense, “Tangtang… today’s lesson hasn’t…”

Unable to reason with her, Shen Zhijin brushed her hair back gently.

“Shall I read it to you and Tangtang instead?”

Gu Tingyin finally relented and nodded.

“Yes, please!”

Shen Zhijin embraced her from behind, taking the book to hold it for her. His deep, calm voice flowed through the quiet room.

Sometime later, he stopped and looked down, noticing her breathing had shifted into a steady, rhythmic pattern.

Sunlight caught her eyelashes, casting delicate shadows across her skin. He leaned down and kissed her brow, resting his palm lightly over her abdomen with a faint smile.

“Tangtang, I’ve already bought you a sketchbook and brushes. It would be wonderful if you take after your mother.”

…

Night fell, heavy and dark.

Shen Zhijin’s eyes opened, staring at the ceiling without truly seeing it. His gaze was void, deeper and more oppressive than the night itself.

Something felt crushed against his chest, leaving him breathless.

He sat up, throwing off the covers. His chest heaved as he gasped for air, fighting for survival like a fish stranded on land.

The room was deafeningly silent; he could hear the frantic rhythm of his own heart. One hand clutched his chest, his knuckles turning white until the veins bulged against his skin, yet sleep remained elusive.

Each time his eyes closed, an inferno seemed to consume him.

Moonlight starkly outlined his frail form. He curled up against the headboard, breathing suppressed in a way that felt almost lethal, as if a cavernous wound had been opened within him, leaving nothing but ruin.

He opened his mouth to speak, but silence prevailed. Finally, he bowed his head over his knees, his back trembling uncontrollably.

…

Another sleepless night bled into dawn. A knock signaled someone entering.

“Ah Jin.”

Uncle Qi stepped in, carrying a bowl of porridge, his expression pained. With both of Shen Zhijin’s parents falling ill during this time, he had isolated himself entirely.

Time felt frozen. Because he shared a close bond with Shen Zhijin’s parents, Uncle Qi had taken it upon himself to check on him.

“Eat something,” he urged, extending the bowl.

Shen Zhijin finally moved.

In just a few days, he had withered away. His eyes were bloodshot and hollow, slow to process the words spoken to him. As he reached out, his hand lacked the strength to hold the bowl, and it shattered against the floor.

He stared at the shards, motionless, until he reached down to pick them up.

“Ah Jin, stop!”

Uncle Qi quickly intervened, clearing the mess himself.

Shen Zhijin withdrew his hand, his eyes unfocused. Uncle Qi sighed deeply.

“You cannot go on like this. I’ll fetch you another bowl.”

Shen Zhijin remained silent, seemingly having lost the very capacity for speech.

As Uncle Qi turned to leave, he glanced back.

“Everyone is worried, Ah Jin. If she were here to see you like this…”

Mention of Gu Tingyin had become a taboo, yet if Shen Zhijin continued his downward spiral, the consequences were unthinkable.

Shen Zhijin’s eyelashes flickered. After a long silence, he finally rasped, “...I want a peanut milkshake.”

Uncle Qi blinked, startled, but quickly nodded. “Right away! I’ll go get one now.”

He returned quickly, bringing not only the milkshake but several boxes of peanut crisps as well. Though it wasn't ideal for his stomach, it was the only thing he had asked for.

“Eat a little of this, and I’ll have the porridge ready shortly.”

Watching him eat, Uncle Qi felt a sliver of relief. Shen Zhijin chewed mechanically. It was a familiar, bittersweet scent. When they were first together, she had loved sharing these, often leaning in to catch the scent on his lips. He had avoided them later, simply so he could kiss her.

He gorged himself on the crisps as if it might fill the hollow space in his chest. When the box turned up empty, he desperately picked up the milkshake, only to be met by a sudden, violent spasm in his stomach.

“The porridge is ready, Ah Jin…” Uncle Qi called out, but no one answered. The sound of retching came from the bathroom. The empty boxes lay scattered; the effort had been too much.

Uncle Qi rushed over to find Shen Zhijin collapsed by the toilet, his body so emaciated that his bones seemed to threaten to break through his skin.

…

Another night passed, echoing the last. The silence remained identical.

Removing his glasses, Shen Zhijin sat in the dark for a long time before turning on a desk lamp. The dim light made his pale features appear almost translucent. He pulled a sketchbook from his drawer. Every page was a record of her—sketches of him from their first meeting to their most recent days, filled with her perspective of him.

He flipped to the last drawing: him holding Tangtang. Then, he turned to the blank page that followed.

He touched the pen to the paper.

—Yinyin.

‘Yinyin, I’m suffering from insomnia again. You wouldn’t know, but I haven't slept or eaten properly. I want to sleep, because perhaps in my dreams, I might see you. But now, even that hope is a luxury.

‘Are you still angry? I deserve it. But you had so many ways to punish me—why this one? You didn't even let me ask if it hurt.

‘I don’t want peanut milkshakes anymore. In three hours, the sun will rise, and I will be terrified. A sunny day means you won’t come to ask for directions. A rainy day means you won't need me to hold your umbrella. Every tomorrow feels like a death sentence without you.

‘I have tried to live as I did before, but I am failing. A planet relies on its star—without the star, the orbit collapses.

‘Do you remember our talk about the law of conservation of energy? Love follows the same rule. It never truly vanishes; it just changes form. You gave me so much, and now I have no way to return it.’

He set the pen down as the sky grew bright outside.

He looked at his left wrist, watching the dark blood seep slowly onto his skin. It didn't hurt. It felt like relief.

Finally, he wouldn't have to fear the next day.

…

He fell into a deep dream. The darkness was absolute until a single voice called his name.

“Ah Jin.”

He turned, and the darkness vanished, replaced by an blinding, ethereal white. She was walking toward him.

“Yinyin,” he whispered, his voice trembling.

She took his hand, her face etched with sorrow. “Ah Jin, does it hurt?”

It hurt, but he couldn't speak. She blew gently on his wrist, murmuring, “Because you are in pain, I am too. And Tangtang. I don't want you to be in pain.”

“Alright,” he whispered.

…

When he awoke, he was in a hospital bed. Uncle Qi sat by his side, eyes red. “It’s good we found you in time. Don’t ever do that again.”

Shen Zhijin remained silent before rasping, “Where is the nearest florist?”

Uncle Qi blinked. “What?”

Shen Zhijin watched the bright, dazzling sunlight streaming through the window.

“Yinyin likes camellias. I haven't bought her any this week.”

He could not bear her pain, so he would endure the agony of living, even if the days dragged on forever. He had given his word, and he would keep it.

A faint smile touched his lips as he realized—he had already died in that brilliant sunlight.