Xia Ling was hurting from his grip and struggled to free herself. "Let go of me! You're drunk!"
She did not know why he was behaving like that and was terrified. She suddenly thought of the celebrations today, all the guests congratulating him about the child and about getting an heir, and his increasingly dark expression. Was he hating the child more and more every day? Did the words of the guests today make him hate the child even more?
Xia Ling's heart beat wildly, and she said frantically, "Don't think of the worst! Things are not what you say!"
"Then you tell me, what are things like?" Pei Ziheng's voice became even lower. He released his grip on her chin but instead started to caress her neck. "Xia Ling, if you want me to believe you, then give me a child."
