Zheng Haoyu stared at her intently; although lying half-prostrate on the bed, he could still clearly see that her belly had grown bigger, and her body appeared to be fuller. Could she really live so well without him? He wasn't doing well at all; without her in his arms, he found sleep difficult to come by at night.
Su Nian lowered her head silently, fiddling with her own fingers. She didn't take the initiative to speak to him, nor did she mention Lian Qing kneeling there.
"Niannian." Zheng Haoyu gently called her name, took a few steps forward, and sat in front of Su Nian.
Looking up at him, Su Nian asked, "What is it?"
She was indifferent, distant, as if they were mere strangers.
It's impossible not to say that Zheng Haoyu was heartbroken; if Su Nian had been crying or screaming, perhaps it wouldn't have made him feel so awful. Instead, those disdainful eyes, that indifferent tone, transformed into countless swords stabbing into his body.
