In the 18 years since losing her, he thought he would never get married or love again in this lifetime.
But through twists and turns, she had already returned to his side under the guidance of fate.
Mo Chuxi turned to the side, holding Yan Xinxin, who had fallen lightly asleep, tracing her exquisitely painted features with his fingers, unable to resist bending down to kiss her lips again.
He was admiring Yan Xinxin's shy, rosy little face when, suddenly, a fleeting image flashed through his mind.
He froze, inexplicably reminded of that anonymous email.
His hand unconsciously rested on Yan Xinxin's noticeably rounded belly.
Inside this belly was his flesh and blood, his Mo Chuxi's heir—his!
That time, nothing had happened between her and Yize! Nothing!
The sender of that email had deliberately sent it to him, intentionally sowing discord. He couldn't believe it!
If he did, he would be unfair to the little woman nestled in his arms right now.
