Zhou Yu was half sitting on the sofa. His two long and proud legs naturally extended forward and overlapped at his ankles. He held a cigar between his thin lips and played with a match in his hand. His ink-colored eyelids were lifted, when he landed on Xuan Yue’s beautiful little face, he said with a faint smile, “So what if I imprison you?”
So what if I imprison you?
His words were truly unruly to the extreme. The sovereign and the Xuan estate were no longer in his eyes.
Xuan Yingluo clenched her fist and looked at him calmly. “Zhou Yu, the child in my stomach is not yours.”
Zhou Yu’s eyes darkened and he walked to the side of the bed. He reached out his rough palm and pinched her little face. Then, he lowered his tall body and approached her, “Xuan Yingluo, don’t talk nonsense. HMM? If the child in your stomach isn’t mine, then whose is it?”
