Pregnant During An Apocalypse [BL]

Chapter 246: Chapter 246 - Emergency surgery

The world had gone strangely quiet.

Yunfeng, half-unconscious and barely hanging on, was supported between Lu Zhi and Muchen as they rushed through the empty streets.

The air was thick with the scent of damp concrete and something metallic—blood, or perhaps rust from the abandoned cars left haphazardly along the road.

Behind them, Hana carried Yuki close to her chest, the child’s small fingers clutching her jacket in silent fear, while Kailun and Qiu Yue brought up Zei from the rear, constantly checking for signs of pursuit.

The city was eerily still, as if holding its breath.

Somewhere in the distance, a siren moaned and died, its echo swallowed by the oppressive silence.

No other soul walked these streets—only them.

Thankfully, it seemed this part of the city had been evacuated in a hurry. The stores were abandoned with their lights still flickering weakly, casting long, wavering shadows across the cracked pavement. Houses stood open like time capsules left mid-motion—a half-eaten meal on a dining table, a child’s toy abandoned on the sidewalk, a car door left ajar with keys still dangling from the ignition. A perfect hiding place, if only for a little while.

”There,” Muchen said, pointing at a narrow townhouse nestled beside a bakery.

The windows were intact, the door was unlocked, and judging by the fine layer of dust inside, no one had been here for a few days. It was safe enough.

They moved quickly. Lu Zhi kicked the door open wider, his grip tightening around Yunfeng’s waist as they maneuvered him inside.

Once inside, they gently lowered Yunfeng onto the couch. His skin was pale, almost translucent under the dim light, his lips tinged blue. The bandages around his shoulder were soaked through, the dark stain spreading steadily.

”Qiu Yue, help him,” Muchen said urgently, brushing Yunfeng’s damp hair back and placing a trembling kiss on his forehead. ”Please.”

Qiu Yue nodded tightly, already rolling up his sleeves. he slowly unravelled the bandages to reveal the bullet wound. the bleeding still hadn’t stopped. ”I need hot water, soap, and clean cloths right now. And someone disinfect that table—we’re going to need it.”

Hana and Zei scrambled to fetch whatever they could.

The house, though abandoned, still had running water.

Hana turned the faucet, the pipes groaning in protest before a thin stream of lukewarm water trickled out. She soaked a rag, wringing it tightly before passing it to Qiu Yue.

The doctor washed his hands thoroughly at the kitchen sink, the water turning pink as it swirled down the drain. He knelt beside Yunfeng, carefully peeling back the makeshift bandage. His face paled.

”The bullet hit an artery. That’s why he’s still bleeding,” Qiu Yue muttered. ”He needs to be sutured immediately. I’ll need suture needles, medical thread, clamps, gauze pads, surgical gloves—everything sterile. And more importantly, blood. He’s lost too much already.”

There was a heavy silence. Muchen looked stunned, his hands hovering uselessly over Yunfeng’s body as if he could will the wound closed through sheer desperation. ”Blood... I—I don’t even know his blood type.”

”AB negative,” Hana spoke suddenly. Everyone turned to her. ”My brother’s blood type is AB negative.”

Muchen turned quickly to her, hope flaring in his eyes. ”I’m AB negative too. I can donate—”

”No,” Qiu Yue cut in firmly, not even letting him finish. ”You’re pregnant, Muchen. Donating blood right now is a risk for both you and the baby.”

Muchen opened his mouth to protest, then stopped, swallowing hard. His eyes dropped to Yunfeng’s pale face, the thin tremble of his lips, the shallow rise of his chest.

He wanted to scream.

He wanted to tear his own veins open if it meant Yunfeng would live.

But he couldn’t.

”I’ll do it,” Hana said, stepping forward with quiet determination. ”I’m the same type. Let me.”

Qiu Yue nodded. ”Good. We’ll need to draw and transfuse it carefully. But first, I need the surgical tools. There’s no way I can perform a proper suture without them. We’ll also need anticoagulants, saline, and sterile gloves. We’re not risking infection.”

”Where can we get all that?” Zei asked, wiping the sweat from his temple.

”There should be a small clinic or pharmacy around here,” Kailun muttered, already turning toward the window. ”This area is mostly residential. I remember seeing a medical sign a few blocks down when we came in.”

”I’ll go,” Muchen said instantly, standing up. ”Point me to it.”

”You’re not going alone,” Lu Zhi said, already pulling on a jacket. ”I’ll come too.”

”Me too,” Zei added, wiping his nose. ”If there are any soldiers left around, you’ll need backup.”

Muchen hesitated, looking back at Yunfeng. His fingers twitched slightly, as if trying to reach for him even in unconsciousness.

”I’ll stay,” Qiu Yue said, already preparing his field bag. ”I’ll keep him stable until you come back. But hurry. He doesn’t have long.”

Muchen knelt beside Yunfeng one last time before leaving. He held his lover’s cold hand, pressing it to his lips. ”Hang in there. I’ll bring back what you need. Just stay with me... please.”

Yunfeng didn’t respond, but his fingers twitched again—weakly.

The streets felt heavier the second time around. Muchen sprinted with Lu Zhi and Zei close behind, heart pounding wildly in his chest, the cold air burning his lungs. The fog curled around them like grasping hands, muffling their footsteps, swallowing their breaths.

The clinic came into view—small, wedged between a florist and a bookstore, with broken glass scattered across the doorway. The sign above flickered weakly, the red cross barely visible through the grime.

They forced the door open, the hinges groaning in protest. Muchen was the first to rush in, heading straight for the cabinets and drawers behind the front desk. His hands shook as he pulled open drawers and knocked over a box of gauze.

”Bandages, gauze, antiseptics—what else, what else—shit!” Muchen gasped, clutching a few gauze packs to his chest and spinning around. ”What else did he say?! There was thread... no, sutures—needles—gloves—what else?!”

”Muchen.” Lu Zhi stepped in, placing a steadying hand on his shoulder. ”Calm down. You’re panicking.”

”But Yunfeng—he’s bleeding—he’s—”

”I know,” Lu Zhi said firmly, his voice low but unshakable. ”That’s why we need to stay focused.”

Lu Zhi quickly began moving through the supply cabinets with practiced efficiency. ”We need suture kits, clamps, syringes, blood transfusion tubing, sterile gloves, saline solution, and a portable IV stand. Also—fever reducers, painkillers, antibiotics.”

Muchen swallowed thickly and followed him, gathering everything Lu Zhi listed. They shoved the supplies into backpacks, working quickly but methodically. Lu Zhi even found medical tubing like the ones used in IV in the backroom. ”We can use this to draw blood, yes?”

Meanwhile, Zei had veered off to the convenience store down the street. When Muchen and Lu Zhi stepped out of the clinic, he jogged up to them with a full bag of food, bottled water, and even some packaged heat packs. ”Figured we’d need more than just medicine,” he muttered. ”The doc and Hana’ll need energy too.”

They didn’t stop to speak after that. They ran.

By the time they returned to the house, the living room had been cleared. A thick sheet had been spread out on the floor beneath Yunfeng’s limp body. He was still unconscious, but breathing—barely.

”Here!” Muchen rushed in and handed Qiu Yue the bags. The doctor immediately pulled out the sterile gloves and began laying out his tools. Hana helped set up the transfusion bag while Lu Zhi disinfected the clamp and needle kit with alcohol.

Muchen stood a few feet back, clutching his middle as he watched the man he loved be operated on—right there in someone else’s living room, on the floor, under dim emergency lights. Qiu Yue’s hands were stained red, but they moved with precision and desperation. He worked in silence, jaw clenched and eyes sharp.

A soft clatter of metal made Muchen flinch. He couldn’t take it anymore.

He turned away, his back trembling as he bit down on his lower lip. The tears slipped down before he could stop them—quiet and hot and full of guilt. ’Why couldn’t I protect him? Why did it have to get this far?’

Suddenly, a gentle warmth surrounded him. Hana wrapped her arms around him from the side, holding him close, her voice whisper-soft in his ear.

”He’ll pull through,” she said. ”You know he will. He loves you enough to live.”

Muchen’s breath hitched. He pressed his face into her shoulder, hiding the heartbreak in his eyes.

”I just... I need him to,” he whispered.

Qiu Yue didn’t look up as he quietly said, ”He’s strong. Just give me a bit more time.”

And so they waited.

The night stretched on, the world beyond the house forgotten.

For now, there was only this—the quiet struggle for life, the unspoken prayers, the fragile hope that somehow, against all odds, Yunfeng would open his eyes again.

And Muchen would be there when he did.