Chapter 41:
A Strange Case of Male Pregnancy (Part 6):
A Man, Pregnant…
The remote village of Yangjia, nestled in the Yunan mountains, had a long history of snake hunting. They knew the mountains intimately, the best places to set traps, the most venomous snakes, how to hold them, unafraid of their fangs. Even the largest snakes were easily skinned, their hides sold to city folk who prized them as exotic pets. Yang Zhen enjoyed the high prices these wealthy clients paid.
Yang Zhen hated eating snakes. He had long grown tired of them. His parents had used the money from selling snake skins to send him to school in town, but he hadn’t finished junior high. Studying was too difficult, the thick textbooks a burden.
He preferred stories of mythical creatures, knowing he wasn’t meant for academics. A snake hunter’s son was destined to be a snake hunter. Their village was surrounded by mountains, the land fertile, and if he didn’t study, his father said, he could farm.
His father had also said that women had changed. Without skills, without the ability to provide, he wouldn’t find a wife. Even the village girls looked down on him. He wasn’t unattractive, but the girls, their heads filled with romantic notions from city movies, dismissed him, their standards unrealistic, their own figures far from the glamorous women on screen. Blind fools. After twenty-five, they would be leftover women, unwanted even by him.
He was twenty-three now, his mother constantly nagging him about grandchildren. Annoyed, he had gone up the mountain, not to farm, ignoring his mother’s calls, but drawn by the sound of thunder the previous night, hoping to find something valuable. He had never heard such loud thunder before.
Legends said that unusual phenomena brought opportunity.
He avoided the snake traps, following a small path to the summit, then stopped, surprised. A large crater, the air filled with the smell of burnt earth, several trees charred and broken. The power of the lightning strike was immense. He should have brought a shovel, he thought, wanting to dig through the debris.
Opportunity knocked but once.
He swung his rusty hoe, striking the earth.
The ground was hard, filled with rocks. He used his hands to clear the debris, uncovering a shimmering shard, the scales of a snake.
He recognized the scent, the smell of snake and blood.
He cleared the remaining rocks, revealing a white snake at the bottom of the crater. He had never seen a snake with such beautiful scales, whiter than pearls.
The snake, seemingly struck by lightning, lay motionless, near death. He carefully picked it up and carried it down the mountain.
He needed someone to heal it. He thought of Yang Gu, the prettiest and most skilled girl in the village.
“You’re always so arrogant, can you save a snake or not?”
Yang Gu, who usually ignored him, let him in, seeing he needed help for the snake. She was educated, dreaming of becoming a doctor, refusing to marry. In a few years, she would be a spinster, a foolish girl, her head filled with books. Jars and bottles filled her house, their labels unreadable to him, filled with herbs and concoctions she gathered from the mountains. He watched her apply medicine to the snake’s wounds, then place it in a wicker basket.
The basket was her handiwork, her rough hands surprisingly deft.
“Will it live?” Yang Zhen asked immediately.
“It’ll live,” she replied, not even looking at him, her gaze fixed on the snake, like a mother tending to her child. “Where did you find it?”
Yang Zhen was annoyed. “None of your business.” He snatched the basket, unwilling to let anyone else have this unique snake.
“White snakes are the most spiritual. Harm it, and you’ll suffer the consequences,” she warned him.
He scoffed. “Still dreaming of becoming a doctor? Don’t come begging me when no one wants to marry you.”
She kicked him out.
He left, muttering curses. What could he possibly do to a snake? Empty threats.
He had gone up the mountain with a hoe and returned with a basket.
Yang Juan, recognizing the basket’s maker, scolded him, “Still thinking about Yang Gu? That girl has high standards, she thinks we’re poor, she’ll never marry you.”
“Mother, what’s so good about Yang Gu? I don’t like her anymore,” he replied.
Yang Juan was puzzled.
He returned to his room, a happy smile on his face, falling asleep, dreaming of the folktale of the snail girl.
The white snake woke up, its head emerging from the basket.
Yang Zhen had a strange dream. He was back on the mountaintop, surrounded by thick foliage, hearing a woman’s voice.
“My benefactor, you saved me. How can I repay you?”
He was overjoyed, just like in the story of the snail girl. “Let me see you,” he said, pushing aside the leaves.
The woman stood before him, dressed in white, as pure and beautiful as a celestial being, her hand covering her face, her demeanor shy and demure.
“Benefactor, what do you desire?”
Even with her face hidden, he knew she was beautiful, far more beautiful than Yang Gu.
“Be my wife,” he said, smiling. “I need a wife, someone to bear me a son.”
The woman hesitated. “Benefactor, I can offer you other things, money, gold…”
“I want you to be my wife! Will you or not?!”
The woman stood there, her face pale as paper, then nodded.
She had agreed. He woke up, his room unchanged, but the snake was gone from the basket.
“What happened?” He searched frantically, his dream wife gone, the snake escaped. If it didn’t keep its promise, he would lose everything. His anxiety grew, drowning out his mother’s calls.
Yang Juan entered his room. “What are you doing? I’ve been calling you!”
“Mother, don’t bother me, I’m looking for my treasure!” he said impatiently.
“There’s a treasure waiting for you outside,” Yang Juan said, a puzzled look on her face. “Where did you meet such a beautiful woman?”
“Where is she?” Yang Zhen asked.
“At the entrance,” his mother replied. “I asked her to wait in the main room. Is she here to collect a debt?”
“Nonsense, she’s here to be my wife!” Yang Zhen yelled excitedly, rushing out.
He saw a petite woman waiting for him. She turned, and he was captivated.
He had only been to town once before. This woman’s skin was as fair as a newborn lamb, her features delicate, her head lowered shyly, her voice soft and gentle. “Benefactor.”
“From now on, I’m your husband,” he said, sweeping her into his arms and carrying her to his room, his heart pounding with excitement. Her waist was so slender, her body soft and yielding. This was the woman he had always wanted.
Compared to this woman, Yang Gu was a shrew, ready to punch him for a single touch, unladylike and aggressive.
This woman, however, her struggles weak and ineffective, yielded easily to his touch, unable to refuse him. He had his way with her, her soft cries echoing through the room.
Yang Juan, hearing the sounds from outside, was overjoyed, rushing to tell her husband the good news. They had a daughter-in-law!
The woman didn’t seem accustomed to farm work, but such women were easy to control, too delicate to run far. Yang Juan thought, once she was pregnant, she wouldn’t be able to leave, bound to their family.
The woman, though quiet, was obedient. The next day, Yang Juan bought candies, distributing them throughout the village, announcing their good fortune.
The villagers knew Yang Zhen had found a beautiful wife. He felt a sense of pride, but the woman refused to participate in their snake-hunting activities, refusing even to eat snake meat. Yang Juan, assuming she was a spoiled city girl, offered her some out of kindness, but the woman simply vomited.
Her vomiting continued for days. They consulted someone, and it turned out she was pregnant.
Yang Juan wasn’t pleased. A pregnancy so soon after her arrival was suspicious. She whispered to her son, “Is she sure it’s yours? City girls are promiscuous. Maybe she was kicked out for infidelity, and you’re just a convenient father.”
Yang Zhen didn’t believe it. He knew the snake had returned to repay his kindness. “Pregnant on the first try, that shows my prowess!” he said smugly.
“Get out of here!” Yang Juan said. “I’ll get her working. Being pregnant isn’t an illness!”
She forced the woman, despite her morning sickness, to cook and clean.
The woman never complained, her belly growing larger each day, her face devoid of maternal joy, only a constant murmur, “Come out quickly, come out quickly,” as if birth would be a release.
Her belly swelled, like two watermelons, her slender frame straining under its weight, her steps unsteady. Unable to work, Yang Juan consulted someone in the village, choosing an auspicious date for the birth, a date that promised a son destined for greatness. She waited eagerly, but the day arrived with no sign of labor.
The woman insisted it wasn’t time yet, but missing the auspicious date would bring bad luck. Yang Juan fetched a concoction to induce labor, dragging the woman to a side room and forcing her to drink it.
The woman writhed in agony, clutching her belly, falling to her knees, banging her head on the floor. Yang Juan tied her to the bed.
The pain, unbearable…
“What woman doesn’t suffer during childbirth?” Yang Juan watched her impassively, closing and locking the door, leaving her alone with her pain.
“Mother, is this alright?” Yang Zhen, hearing her screams, felt a pang of unease.
“Childbirth takes time, pain is inevitable. Are you feeling sorry for her?” Yang Juan glared at him. “Why don’t you feel sorry for your mother?”
The door remained locked, only the woman’s screams audible.
Childbirth was indeed a slow process. Bored, Yang Zhen went outside to pick leaves, when he saw a white snake, not the one he had found on the mountain, but a larger, equally unusual snake.
Before he could approach it, he heard his mother scream.
He ran back inside, finding his mother standing by the door, her face pale with horror.
The woman lay motionless on the bed, her belly still swollen, blood pooling beneath her, her eyes wide open, dead.
“Mother, how did she die?” He knew he had lost both his wife and his child.
“How would I know she was so fragile? Couldn’t even handle a little pain,” Yang Juan said. “A worthless life, couldn’t even give birth, suffocating my grandson.”
As the woman’s body died, it transformed, melting into a white snake.
The sight horrified them.
“Cursed! We’re cursed!” Yang Juan yelled.
Yang Dali rushed in with a stick, but the snake was already dead.
Their daughter-in-law wasn’t human! Yang Juan, panicked and furious, grabbed her son’s ear, berating him.
Yang Zhen finally confessed about finding the snake on the mountain.
Yang Juan was slightly relieved. The snake had come to repay their kindness, its death settling the debt.
They buried the snake, hoping to put the matter to rest, but what followed was even more terrifying.
Yang Zhen had another dream. A dark, stormy sky, and the white snake.
“Can you give me another wife?” he asked. “I still don’t have a child.”
The snake flicked its tongue, but it was different from before, much larger, its body coiling around him, not the gentle woman who had called him “benefactor.”
He woke up in a cold sweat, his throat constricted, the image of the snake slithering into his mouth, stretching his face, a horrifying nightmare.
He was cursed. Since the woman’s death, the village had been plagued by snakes, slithering into houses, biting people, Yang Gu’s house filled with the injured.
The snakes had become aggressive. The villagers sprinkled quicklime around their houses, no longer hunting them, but avoiding them. They could handle the snakes, but Yang Zhen’s condition worsened. He vomited everything he ate, his arms growing thinner, his belly swelling.
A man, pregnant like a woman!
