"It's okay, I'm lucky." Tong Wanyan inexplicably felt a strange sense of confidence.
Aside from her unparalleled beauty, she didn't really have many outstanding qualities. To win the favor of the Crown Prince, what else could it be but good fortune?
Tong Wanyan didn't think her face was worth much; she believed that relying on looks wouldn't win people's hearts.
Yinreng tapped her head, then tenderly kissed the spot where the red mark had been left.
"Fools are sometimes lucky. But Xiao Yan is indeed fortunate to have met me. With me protecting you from now on, how could things not be good?" Yinreng boasted.
He seemed to have forgotten that he was once a humble prince, and that his emotions were never so abundant.
Tong Wanyan chuckled: "Master, shouldn't I start making clothes for our child? I've heard that when a woman is pregnant, she makes little clothes and shoes for the baby in her womb."
Yinreng glanced at her sideways: "It's not that I don't trust you, but is your embroidery skill presentable?"
Tong Wanyan bit her lip: "It's embarrassing."
A few months ago, she wanted to embroider a purse for Yinreng. Chunque had already repaired the purse, so she only had to sew around the edges. Even so, she still pricked several holes in her fingers.
History is vivid in our minds, and the blood and tears we shed cannot be forgotten.
Tong Wanyan sighed and patted her belly: "My child, I'm so sorry, you have no pretty clothes to wear."
Yinreng glared at her irritably, took a deep breath, and grabbed her hand, preventing her from moving.
"You've gotten bolder? You dare to pat your belly like that? This is your belly, and inside is our child, not a drum!" Yinreng was now filled with fear, afraid that something bad might happen if he wasn't careful.
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