"Yuanyuan, how are you? Yuanyuan, are you alright?" Hu Rui's eyes reddened as she looked at Song Yuan lying on the ground.
Song Yuan was wearing a red lace cheongsam, which was very beautiful. She was just over a month and not yet two months pregnant; her lower abdomen was still flat, without even a hint of extra flesh, so the cheongsam clung to her body well, outlining Song Yuan's exquisite figure beautifully.
At the moment, Song Yuan lay on the ground, with her hand covering her stomach, her expression twisted in pain.
Because she was wearing a red dress, it wasn't clear whether she was bleeding, but most people could guess what was happening—chances were that the child inside... was in danger.
Song Huanyan and Yun Jianchen had made their way to the front.
Looking at Song Yuan clutching her lower abdomen, Song Huanyan's face looked terrible.
She really felt... why was it so difficult to give birth to a child safely?
