Tong Ran's eyes were filled with tears. She knew the possibility was extremely small, almost zero, for her to completely love this child...
Mo Nanjue held her tightly. He could watch everything coldly, yet he couldn't bear seeing her torment herself. Over these days, he had kept a close eye on her every move. Unless she's in a good mood, otherwise, even when she's clearly hungry, she'd eat just a few bites before putting down her chopsticks, and when she's clearly thirsty, she'd refuse to drink water...
She's having a tantrum with herself, also hating the child in her belly.
The way she did this, Mo Nanjue didn't believe she could feel comfortable inside; she must be feeling more miserable and guilty.
"Tong Ran, you never used to listen to me. When I said west, you'd go east; when I said up, you'd go down. Just this once, listen to me," the man's hot breath sprayed at her ear, tickling her, "Don't hurt yourself anymore, no matter what, even if it's because of me, you can't."
