Widow Xu lay weakly on the bed and upon seeing Tan Zhengyuan enter, she said, "Get me some water, I'm so thirsty."
Tan Zhengyuan curled his lips, thinking she still expected to treat him like a slave even after losing his son?
In her dreams!
Feeling unsettled by Tan Zhengyuan's gaze, Widow Xu couldn't help but pull her quilt up a bit.
As she expected, what Tan Zhengyuan gave her wasn't water, but his fists—a beating she could have resisted or fled from on any other day.
But now, having just miscarried, even the slightest movement caused her belly to ache terribly. What could she do?
Fists rained down on her like falling drops, and Widow Xu's forehead was covered in cold sweat.
"Help! Someone save me, he's going to beat someone to death! Help!" Widow Xu frantically cried for help.
Panting heavily, Tan Zhengyuan demanded, "Who do you think will save you? Tell me, who is your lover? Is the child mine?"
