Su Wenyue had realized that she had misspoken out of haste. The last thing Han Yu wanted to hear was her talk of leaving. In the past, whenever she broached the subject, she would end up in a terrible state, and although she was pregnant now, Su Wenyue believed that if Han Yu wanted to, she would end up just as miserable, not to mention the proverbial settling of scores after the fall.
"Anyway, anyway, I won't leave. I like you the most, Husband." Under Han Yu's unfathomable gaze, the spineless Su Wenyue boldly rephrased her statement, even bursting into a sob. This time, however, Han Yu didn't feel pity; his expression remained less than pleasant.
"Do you really mean that? Why do I hear no sincerity at all? If one truly liked someone, would they cry and make a fuss about separating or divorcing so easily?"
