Why call him?
Kristino did not want Rong Jingyang to come over. His heart belonged to him, and no one was allowed to snatch it.
"Give the child... back to him," Du Ruoxin said intermittently.
Kristino's pupils widened: ...Huh?
Child? What child? Where did the child come from?
Oh!
Seeing the trash can, he suddenly remembered.
The abortion Du Ruoxin mentioned, was it returning the "child," still an embryo, an undeveloped "child," to Rong Jingyang in this manner?
To stop Rong Jingyang from pestering her?
A flicker of light flashed through Kristino's dazed mind, "Okay."
He took two steps back, then looked back at Du Ruoxin, whose face was pale and bloodless, his thoughts frozen.
"Mmm—"
Du Ruoxin curled up on the bed, groaning in pain.
Kristino no longer hesitated. He went out, picked up his phone, and dialed Rong Jingyang's number.
"Ring, ring, ring..."
Lin Xuanyao was driving towards Kristino's house.
He drove neither fast nor slow. The bustling street felt peaceful at this moment, as if his boss's good mood had infected him.
He couldn't quite describe the feeling.
It was as if...
In the past, Master Rong only focused on work. Whether he was on the phone, talking, or conversing with people, two and a half out of every three sentences were about some project.
It seemed impossible to find anything unrelated to work from his mouth.
But now, it was different. Master Rong had started to slow down, to pay attention to people and things beyond work.
Lin Xuanyao had witnessed his concern for the little lady in particular.
This was what a mature and normal man was like.
Having a family, children, weaknesses, and a human touch.
Although Master and Madam were divorced, Lin Xuanyao believed that sooner or later, they would remarry.
How could people who had loved each other so deeply forget so easily?
It's just that—
"It itches," Rong Doudou murmured restlessly, scratching herself with her nails.
Rong Jingyang gazed out the car window, his thoughts drifting, and didn't hear his daughter speak. But Rong Doudou's squirming drew his attention back.
"What's wrong?" Seeing the little girl scratching herself, Rong Jingyang took her hand to examine it.
The sun had already set, but its rays illuminated the horizon, creating a breathtaking scene.
It was still bright outside.
Rong Jingyang saw that his daughter's arm was covered in red rashes, which was frightening.
"Doudou, Doudou?" he called out.
Rong Doudou woke up in pain, opened her eyes, and cried loudly, "Daddy, it hurts, it hurts so much, woo woo woo..."
"I want to see a doctor."
The little girl cried and fussed, almost flipping the car roof.
Rong Jingyang's heart ached. He held his daughter's hand, preventing her from scratching, lest she break her skin. "Okay, okay, we'll see a doctor."
"Xuanyao, go to the children's hospital."
Lin Xuanyao turned the steering wheel. "Yes."
Rong Doudou's large tears fell like pearls, wetting Rong Jingyang's shirt. "Daddy, it hurts, it hurts so much..."
Rong Jingyang was distraught by his daughter's crying. "Where does it hurt?"
He gently scratched his daughter's itch with his fingertip, comforting her while calling Du Ruoxin.
He wanted to ask her what was wrong with Doudou, why she had developed rashes, if this had happened before, or if Doudou had any skin condition.
But he couldn't get through.
He couldn't reach her by phone.
They had once been the most intimate and closest couple in the world, yet now they were more like strangers?
Rong Jingyang felt as if he had been hit by a heavy punch.
No!
He had said he would pursue her again!
Taking a deep breath, although he desperately wanted to avoid any interaction with Kristino, for his daughter's sake, to find Du Ruoxin, and to speak with her, he dialed the number.
—
ps: Tomorrow is New Year's Eve. I wish all the big and little friends who are reading this a Happy New Year and all the best.
May you all get rich in 2023.
Also, the recent plot will be very hard on the male lead. Because I need to accompany my son, I will update one to two chapters daily.
Normal updates will resume on the fourth day of the Lunar New Year.