After covering An Lin with the quilt, Qin Mu didn't leave immediately.
Instead, he stood quietly in front of the big bed, gazing calmly at the sleeping An Lin, with a layer of guilt rising in his heart again.
His phone vibrated in his pants pocket.
He turned around, walked out of the bedroom, and went to the study next door to answer the call.
"Ah Mu, how did your talk with An Lin go?"
Mo Xiuchen's voice came through the phone waves, sounding concerned. Qin Mu sat down behind the desk, calmly saying, "She had a bit to drink tonight and is already asleep."
"She didn't insist on the divorce again, did she?"
"Do you think she's that easy to talk to?" Qin Mu smiled bitterly. The mistake was his.
He understood An Lin's temper better than anyone. She wasn't just proud; she was also stubborn, like an ox that wouldn't budge. Otherwise, after their last intimate encounter, he wouldn't have needed to pressure her with the involvement of both families.
But this time, it was different.
