As soon as the car door had shut, Shu Qiqi was pinned beneath Leng Yichen.
His invasion was unrestrained and arbitrary, his cold palm slipping into her clothing, caressing her delicate waist.
Leng Yichen's hand gently brushed over her lower abdomen, and Shu Qiqi, in pain, pushed the man away, "The child..."
She clutched at her belly, "I'm carrying someone else's child."
That sentence struck Leng Yichen like a bolt of lightning, charring him black on the outside but tender inside.
The car door was slammed shut, and Leng Yichen returned to the driver's seat, the vehicle speeding off into the rain and mist.
Shu Qiqi nervously clutched the seat belt, not daring to breathe too loudly.
Back at the Leng residence, Leng Yichen went straight into the study.
"Why are you back so late, Qiqi? Grandmother has made some soup, come over quickly."