Looking at the sorrow painted in her eyes, Yun Mo's heart ached.
He released his hand from the intricately patterned hand-made silver chopsticks. As he turned his head to look at her, he soothingly patted her head, offering her the gentlest comfort.
"Qiaoqiao, mom can see you from heaven." He stroked her little head as she leaned against his shoulder. "Don't be angry, take care not to upset your baby. Good girl."
Qiao Xiaon'an lifted her head from his shoulder, took a tissue from the beautifully crafted tissue box on the table, wiped away her stubborn tears. Then, holding her bowl and chopsticks, she turned her head and gave him a smile.
"You're so funny, we're not even sure about it. How can there be pregnancy symptoms. We'll only know if it's really a pregnancy after going to the hospital tomorrow."
