Zhuang Jie Ning's hand gently caressed her flat belly, smiling with grace, "Li Shiheng, you should be grateful to me now. If it wasn't for me, and you died, your dad would have been left without a successor."
The words were excessively sharp and harsh. Li Shiheng was mentally prepared, yet his face still turned an ashen hue.
He coldly watched Zhuang Jie Ning, the most gentlemanly and cultured of Xiangjiang's elite. At this moment, his smile was ironic, carrying barely concealed fury, "Zhuang Jie Ning, you really are something."
"Why didn't you speak so assertively in front of Bian Yue?" Zhuang Jie Ning did not care at all about Li Shiheng's rage. Her smile was smug as she turned to Li Tingmo, "Dad, if Shiheng talks to me like this, what if it scares your precious grandchild?"
Rage ignited in Li Tingmo's chest, but he could only bear the sarcasm and mockery from Zhuang Jie Ning for the greater good, suppressing it.
