Song Qiao looked at Murong Rui, whose face had beco incredibly ferocious, and decided not to say anything further, knowing all too well the principle of quitting while ahead.
Moreover, there was a little life inside her now, and if Murong Rui were to suddenly attack her, she would be the one to suffer.
Suppressing the anger and unwillingness in her heart, Murong Rui took a deep breath and looked at Song Qiao with a significant expression. She tried to suppress her rage, but couldn’t hold it back, and with a voice that seed strained to the utmost, she said, "Song Qiao, don’t be smug. This is just the beginning; no one knows what will happen in the future. Like you and Jingchen, do you really think Jingchen loves you? Whether you’ll remain the Young Mistress of the Lu Family is still uncertain."
...
After Murong Rui finally left, she did not do anything except scream so curse-like words.
The family doctor arrived quickly. Other than a minor fracture on the back of her hand from being stepped on by Murong Rui with a high-heeled shoe, the maid nad Alan also had a bruise and a slight burn on her back, but her back was not a serious issue.
"Madam, breakfast is ready. Would you like to eat first?"
Song Qiao glanced at the doctor who was examining Alan, thought for a mont, then nodded and humd a yes.
She was no longer alone; she had to eat three als a day on ti and eat well, otherwise it would not be good for the child in her belly.
When Lu Jingchen ca back, Song Qiao had just started eating breakfast at the dining table. Hearing the servant’s words, "Sir, you’re back," she rely looked up towards the door montarily before quickly returning to her breakfast.
For this man, Song Qiao now felt both angry and frustrated, thinking that if it weren’t for this man’s philandering, she wouldn’t have to face a lunatic like Murong Rui and constantly be wary for her own safety.
After changing his shoes, Lu Jingchen headed straight for the dining room. As he reached the entrance and saw Song Qiao, who was intently eating her breakfast, his steps involuntarily paused, but he quickly resud his pace and walked into the dining room.
As always, he walked over and sat down next to Song Qiao. The servant quickly brought him a new set of bowls and chopsticks and placed them in front of him.
Song Qiao didn’t look up, but she could hear the footsteps. Then she quickly sensed that familiar masculine scent, which made her pause. Her brows slightly furrowed, but she didn’t say or do anything and just continued eating her breakfast.
But just because she wanted to quietly enjoy her breakfast didn’t an the man would stay silent and not ask anything.
Just as she finished her bowl of red bean porridge and was about to serve herself another, a hand with distinct knuckles and very slender fingers reached over and took the bowl in front of her. Song Qiao instinctively turned her head toward the man beside her, a strikingly handso profile coming into view. Her lips moved, but she didn’t say anything.
Lu Jingchen directly served Song Qiao a bowl of red bean porridge, then placed it back in front of her, before casually asking, "I heard from the servant that little Rui was here just now?"
Song Qiao never harbored ill feelings towards food. She pulled the bowl closer towards herself again and without hesitation or thought, she straightforwardly threw out two words in response, "Yes, she was."
After serving her a bowl of red bean porridge, Lu Jingchen didn’t turn his head back but continued to look at her and ask, "Did she say anything to you? Or do anything?"
The woman turned her head to look at him but instead of answering, she smiled with a hint of sarcasm, "What do you think she’d say to , and what do you think she’d do?"
Lu Jingchen was startled and naturally sensed the hostility in her tone. His expression imdiately grew grim as he spoke directly, "Song Qiao, there’s no need for you to act like a porcupine."
In truth, he had always known that she was like a little porcupine, bristling her spines at the slightest danger or rustle of the grass.
It was precisely because of this that Lu Jingchen always wanted to personally pluck out all the spines on her body.
For a mont, Song Qiao fell silent, still holding the porcelain spoon in her hand, unflinchingly eting the man’s gaze. But after just a few dozen seconds, she diverted her own gaze and continued to eat the breakfast before her, head bowed.
There are so matters and decisions that are not allowed to be changed.
And it was she herself who forbade it.
Watching Song Qiao suddenly eat her breakfast in silence, Lu Jingchen felt inexplicably irritable and lost his appetite for his own al. He stood up and without looking back, left the dining room.
The man’s footsteps grew more distant until they faded away.
Song Qiao’s movents stopped the mont Lu Jingchen stood up. Her face was expressionless, her emotions unreadable, only the gradually dimming sparkle in her eyes hinting at her feelings at that mont.
Having lost her appetite for breakfast as well, she simply put down her spoon and imdiately had a servant clean everything up.
...
After leaving the dining room, Lu Jingchen headed towards the study on the second floor. As he passed the master bedroom, he paused for a mont, but only for a few seconds before continuing towards the study.
Inside the study, there was still an office desk and a white computer desk. On top of the white desk was a pink-shelled laptop that Song Qiao usually used.
Several docunts were ssily scattered on the computer desk, and Lu Jingchen, as soone with severe cleanliness and a touch of perfectionism, couldn’t resist tidying up the disorderly desk.
His slender fingers picked up the docunts, and as he glanced down with the intention to organize them, his body stiffened and his gaze locked onto one particular docunt, as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing and brought it closer for a clearer view.
However, as he clarified the contents of the docunt, his expression turned increasingly cold and even more nacing.
Already displeased by the irritation in his heart, the content of the docunt in front of him now seed as if it could drive him to murder.
The atmosphere in the study suddenly dropped, the air grew eerily quiet, and the man’s hand clutching the thin sheet of paper couldn’t help but tighten, with veins on the back of his hand bulging visibly.
After an indeterminate amount of ti, the man finally placed the paper back on the computer desk and then turned to leave the study.
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