Feng Yueming's deep-set features were sharp as a knife's edge as he looked down at the woman crawling at his feet before he parted his thin lips and said, "Yes."
"Yes?"
The word sent Mi Yao into the abyss, "Ha, hahaha..." She suddenly burst into loud laughter. "Why? Tell me why?"
"The reason is simple, I don't want this child."
Don't want this child?
Such a simple reason.
"This child is yours, why don't you want him, why?"
Feng Yueming did not speak.
"Oh, I get it now, is it because you think I, carrying this child, was tainted by Feng Zhengyu, or... do you simply suspect that this child isn't yours, so you're this cruel to him? Feng Yueming, you bastard, animal, he's your child, you will face retribution!" Mi Yao, in emotional collapse, pounded on him.
Feng Yueming slowly squatted down, then he lifted her up in a horizontal carry.
