"I must give birth to this child," Zhao Yuning said in a low voice, her eyes revealing a hint of hatred.
Tang Shuwen sighed. This woman, who had always been frail, had finally come to hate him.
Indeed, she had every reason to hate him, after all, he had been too cruel to her.
The two who once loved each other had come to this point; it was really a cruel twist of fate.
"If you've made up your mind, I won't force you," Tang Shuwen said indifferently, his gaze circling Zhao Yuning's face, vaguely recognizing the familiar features, vaguely the temperament he once loved.
But he didn't know when what was 'once' had indeed become just that—past tense.
Now, he only admired women who were a combination of strength and gentleness.
This child, certainly, could not be allowed to remain.
Yuning, don't blame me for my ruthlessness.
