Xiaoling was comforting her aunt, but she was also comforting herself this way.
In truth, her heart was far from as light as her words suggested.
Xu Zijin had already started declaring war on her, and it began a few days ago.
What leverage would he use next to expose her?
Xiaoling gently stroked her protruding belly, a deep sense of unease welling up inside her.
The original plan to swap the prince for the civet cat would inevitably fall apart—it was destined for failure.
In a daze, she left Aunt Ling's home, her thoughts muddled and her steps unsteady.
When she returned to the Xu Family's home, she was stunned.
The Xu household, brilliantly lit, was unusually lively.
Song Weiyi's two sons were running around the living room, their laughter echoing joyfully.
And there, sitting in a wheelchair, was Xu Zijin, his eyes slightly narrowed, staring intently in her direction.
