Qiao Yiyang smiled lightly, his eyes shimmering attractively.
But in Lin Xinlan's eyes, every expression, every movement of his, made her feel disgusted.
"You won't kill him," he said firmly. "I know you well, the child is your fatal weakness. Xinlan, you can't do it."
Lin Xinlan gave a cold laugh, "You're not me, how would you know what I'm thinking? Qiao Yiyang, I will kill him, don't doubt my words!"
"You won't," he repeated, as if he knew her better than she knew herself.
Lin Xinlan glared at him angrily, speechless.
He looked at her tenderly, smiling gently, "Xinlan, the child is innocent, you can kill me, but you cannot kill him."
Lin Xinlan's gaze flickered slightly, and he continued, "He's so cute, so little, he's your child, you love him, so you can't bring yourself to kill him."
His voice was seductive, and Lin Xinlan's eyes began to look confused as she murmured, "How could I bear to kill my own child..."
"Yes, you can't bear it, you love them a lot."
