Bigot M.. Fu me laisse faire ce que je veux - Chapitre 1162

Chapitre 1162: A Difficult Choice

“Ling’er, Xiao Bao is our daughter.”

Sans le savoir, the words tumbled out of his mouth.

Feng Jiuxiao was troubled. Ling’er stiffened in his arms, probably in shock.

Ling’er was indeed surprised because she had always thought that before she met Ziqing, they had not interacted with each other. Suddenly having a daughter who was already an adult was something she had trouble processing. Things were not as simple as they seemed.

A quick calculation was all she needed to gain a rough idea of when she could have had a child with Zinqing.

She raised her exquisite face. De son point de vue, she could only see the man’s perfect jawline. Feng Jiuxiao looked at her.

“Is this the reason for your excitement all afternoon?"

Feng Jiuxiao nodded. "Mm."

Ling’er peered up at Feng Jiuxiao, abruptly looping her arms around his neck and foisting her weight on him.

The sudden action startled Feng Jiuxiao, but he reacted quickly and caught her. “You shouldn’t cling to me like that. You might hurt the baby,’ he huffed nervously.

…

Ling’er’s expression was originally rather serious, and she wanted to ask Feng Jiuxiao a few questions. pourtant, when she heard his anxious admonishment, elle n'a pas pu s'empêcher de rire, “The baby isn’t even a month old; it’s the size of a tadpole! How could this little bit of pressure hurt it?"

Feng Jiuxiao was still extremely nervous. “No matter how small it is, if you press it like this, et si…"

“Even if I put some pressure on my abdomen, it wouldn’t hurt the baby. Doesn’t a layer of amniotic fluid protect babies? As long as I’m not reckless, there isn’t anything you need to worry about,” Ling’er interrupted, putting a lid on the rest of his thoughts.

Au cours des deux derniers jours, she had gotten people to buy some books about pregnancy. She had also undergone prenatal education, so she was not completely ignorant.

Although Ling’er spoke logically with sound reasoning, he still could not shake his concerns. It was his first time dealing with pregnancy, so he was exceptionally nervous.

“Then you have to be careful.”

Ling’er replied gently: "Je sais."

Feng Jiuxiao stared at the person on top of him. This posture inevitably made him a little distracted. “What do you want to do when you sit on it?” He asked softly.

Ling’er hugged Feng Jiuxiao by his neck, refuser de lâcher prise. The distance between the tip of their noses was less than two centimetres. They were so close their breaths intertwined and became one, each inseparable from the other.

dit-elle doucement: “I want to ask you a few questions. You have to answer me honestly.”

How could Feng Jiuxiao resist Ling’er in their present state? His breaths grew heavier, and a low moan escaped his lips.

“Ask.”

Ling’er regarded Feng Jiuxiao unblinkingly for quite a while before she asked: “You’ve known Xiao Bao was my daughter for a while now, n'avez-vous pas? I remember that girl standing by the door.”

Feng Jiuxiao turned around: "Mm."

Pleased with his straightforward answer, Ling’er continued, “Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you tell me Xiao Jiu was my grandson when you brought him over to relieve my boredom. Please… give me an answer.”

It was a question within the bounds of his expectations. Feng Jiuxiao knew that Ling’er would have many questions for him. She was an intelligent woman, and he was not surprised that she would connect the dots.

“I never said anything because you didn’t, and still don’t, remember the past.”

“Then why do you want me to know now?” Ling’er asked.

“Our daughter is the crystallisation of our love; she shouldn’t be ignored,” Feng Jiuxiao answered easily.

When Ling’er heard this, she did not show any surprise on her face. Qin Shu was their daughter, proof of the love she and Ziqing shared. Ziqing was not one to wear his emotions on his sleeve, more so in a public setting. Si rien d'autre, she did not doubt the emotional display she had borne witness to that afternoon.

elle serait patiente, resting her head on Feng Jiuxiao’s shoulder. “You’ve hidden a lot of things from me…” Ling’er murmured, her words worn and drawn out.

“Ling’er,” Feng Jiuxiao called out uneasily.

“I lost my memories while I was with you. I don’t remember you mentioning our past, except that we were a couple and shared a loving relationship. We lived in seclusion on Mount Qi for years… Those were some of the most peaceful and pleasant memories I still retain. Encore, in all that time, not once did you say anything about our daughter or anything related to her,” Ling’er spoke softly, but her words carried the weight of a mountain and the icy chill of its lofty heights.

Feng Jiuxiao’s arms tightened around her. If he had not let it slip that Qin Shu was their daughter, Ling’er would not be mired by these doubts. She would not have had the impetus or reason to question and doubt. Would she still lean into his arms as calmly as now if she learned the whole truth?

Ling’er was conscious of the growing silence and the tightening grip around her. “There’s also Deputy Jin. I’ve never met him, yet he treats me warmly, like an old friend. It makes me wonder if I have stayed in Feng Yi before…” her voice trailed off into the growing stillness.

She subconsciously stroked her flat belly. She never knew she had a daughter or what was it like being pregnant with her. Dans un sens, this was her first pregnancy.

“We have a second child now. I’m looking forward to the baby’s arrival. I don’t know if it will be a boy or a girl,” her voice softened a little.

Feng Jiuxiao also lowered his eyes to look at his wife’s belly. He placed his big hand over hers and said, “Whether it’s a baby boy or a baby girl, I’ll love them regardless.”

“I hope it’ll be a boy since we already have a daughter. Having a son and daughter would be the best,” Ling’er said.

Comme elle parlait, her voice tapered. It was obvious that she was sleepy.

Feng Jiuxiao lifted Ling’er easily. She had always been on the thin side, though not in a disproportionate way, so carrying her was not hard.

Without their tense conversation, the atmosphere regained its calm.

He looked at the time. It was already past one in the morning. No wonder Ling’er was so tired.

Listening to her breathing gradually even out, Il a demandé, “Ling’er, do you want to recover your memories?"

de Ling, who was on the verge of sleep, subconsciously replied. "Je fais."

It sounded like she was talking in her sleep.

He would not have heard her reply if he had not been paying attention. Dans ce cas, Feng Jiuxiao heard her loud and clear.

Even if he wanted to pretend that he had not heard it, il ne pouvait pas.

He leaned against the headboard, allowing Ling’er to sleep on top of him; his eyes never left his wife’s sleeping form, même pas une seconde.

He stayed like this till five in the morning. Ling’er was like a koala on top of him, hugging and refusing to let go of him. It was amazing how soundly she slept. Parfois, she would roll to one side and then back again.

Feng Jiuxiao’s thick eyelashes fluttered twice, and he turned his head to look at the clock on the bedside table. It was almost time for him to get up.

He eyed the person in his arms. Ling’er was still sound asleep. Tranquillement, he reached out and placed his hand over her forehead.

Une heure plus tard…

He slowly laid Ling’er flat on the bed, doing his best not to wake her, before going to the bathroom to wash up.

Quelques minutes plus tard, he stepped out of the bathroom and into the large cloakroom, changing into a set of formal clothes; most of them were pale white, the colour of the moon.

He was not going to work. Au lieu, he went to the kitchen. He wanted to prepare breakfast for Ling’er.

How would she react when she awoke? He wanted to know. Non. He needed to know.

By the time he was dressed and ready for the day ahead, it was already six in the morning, and the eastern skies lit up with the first rays of dawn.

He had thought and rethought his decision all night, and he did not know what consequences would arise from his act of restoring Ling’er’s memories. Whether or not he would regret it was a question he would face, come hell or high water.