"I said, I'm pregnant."
"Whose is it?" Han Zishi exploded, looking ready to fight someone to the death.
This reaction was entirely unexpected for Lin Xileng, who was left stupefied by his shouting and after a long while, muttered, "Of course, it's yours."
"Little Xixi, do you have a fever? Why are you talking nonsense?" Han Zishi felt her forehead to check her temperature and, finding it normal, couldn't help but frown deeply.
"I don't have a fever, and I'm not drunk. I'm serious, I'm carrying your child." At this point, Lin Xileng decided to go for broke, mustering up her courage to almost yell it out.
Han Zishi couldn't help but laugh as he rubbed at the painful spot on his forehead: "Little Xixi, just holding hands, hugging, and kissing won't lead to a pregnancy."
Lin Xileng: ...
Oh my God, it's all that damn Yingying's bad idea. What kind of crappy advice did she give?
"Pfft, bro, Little Xixi, are you guys really that pure?"
