Qin Nuan's teeth clutched tightly onto her lips, leaving a clear row of bite marks on the crimson beneath, as she touched her belly and hesitated, saying, "But I think the child in my belly is Xia Cheng's."
The autumn wind blew in through the high windows, and though winter was not yet upon them, a chill was already in the air, cold enough to send shivers down one's spine.
It took only a few breaths for He Xing to regain his impassive expression. He looked out through that small window at the sky outside, blue and cloud-streaked, just like the sky he'd seen with Fu Han that morning.
Only when he was with Fu Han, he felt the world vast and infinite, but at this moment the expansive sky seemed to have shrunk to the size of a palm, shaped and defined.
