Song Qingshu had no idea why he was so excited that another man's wife was pregnant. He jogged after her in delight all the way.
"How many months along is the baby?"
"How bad is your morning sickness?"
"Do you prefer spicy or sour food? People always say sour means a boy, spicy means a girl..."
Huang Rong's face darkened. She had ignored him the entire time, but at last she could not help snapping, "Are you done yet?"
Song Qingshu was at a loss. "You never answered me!"
Huang Rong replied coldly, "Why should I answer you about Jing Gege's and my child?" With that, she walked away without looking back.
"Uh..." Song Qingshu was left speechless by that one sentence. By the time he recovered, she had already vanished from sight.
Though he knew Huang Rong's words made perfect sense, he could not stop his thoughts from running wild. Having lived two lives, he had never experienced being a father. Now that he had suddenly learned he might have a child, how could he not be excited? How could he not lose his composure?
Worried that returning immediately would let the others notice something amiss, Song Qingshu remained where he was. After taking several deep breaths, he finally calmed down somewhat. Only then could he think clearly again. From a probabilistic standpoint, his suspicion made no sense at all; it had merely been a sudden whim. No matter how one looked at it, Huang Rong's pregnancy was a matter between husband and wife. What did it have to do with him?
With that thought, he finally settled down completely, though a faint trace of disappointment still lingered on his face.
When he returned to the banquet, he found Guo Jing carefully supporting Huang Rong as they headed outside.