Tang Yuehua lowered her head and did not answer.
Her gaze fell on the bowl of soup before her, already completely cold. The surface reflected her face, even paler than before. A few strands of hair hung loose at the edges, trembling faintly.
She did not dare answer.
What Tang Xiao had asked was, "Whose is it?" And the answer was sitting across the table from her.
That answer had just picked up a bowl of soup, had just put down a pair of chopsticks, and was now seated opposite her, silent as a weathered stone statue.
How could she possibly say it aloud?
Tang Yuehua's fingers slowly tightened inside her sleeves, her nails digging into her palms and bringing a faint sting. That pain cleared her head and, in that instant, suppressed the impulse that had nearly escaped her lips.
No matter how much she longed to be with Tang Hao, no matter that she had given herself to that man that night, no matter that their bloodline was now growing inside her—she would never dare tell her own elder brother the words "incest."
Tang Xiao was the Sect Master of the Clear Sky Sect, the backbone of its entire lineage.
He might tolerate his younger sister becoming pregnant out of wedlock, but he could never tolerate the man who had impregnated her being their own brother.
Tang Yuehua knew her eldest brother too well.
He was usually gentle and composed, but when it came to matters of family ethics and the sect's reputation, he was more stubborn and impartial than anyone.
What would he do if he learned who the child's father was?
Expel Tang Hao from the sect?
Expel her from the sect?
Or suppress the matter and make everyone pretend nothing had happened?
None of those