Billionaire's Secret Twins and Rebellious Wife-Chapter 880: Yuan, Call Me Dad
"Bang," a long piece of wood fell at Yan Xinxin’s feet, and a construction worker ran out of the exhibition hall immediately to apologize.
Yan Xinxin looked at her feet in surprise, only then realizing what had happened.
She raised her head, looked at the person in front of her, and had two words swirling in her throat, but ultimately she didn’t call them out. 𝓯𝙧𝓮𝓮𝒘𝓮𝙗𝙣𝒐𝒗𝒆𝓵.𝓬𝓸𝒎
"Thank you, Mr. Mu."
She called out once, yet felt a slight stab of pain in her heart.
Mu Jingheng also felt a pang in his heart.
"Yuan, call me Dad."
Mu Jingheng looked at her, a hint of plea in his eyes, along with the loving gaze of a father looking at his daughter.
Yan Xinxin felt a warmth in her heart, but still smiled faintly and shook her head.
"Mr. Mu, don’t let me make your family unhappy; I think it’s really a mistake. I am not your daughter Mu Qianyuan, I just... happen to look somewhat similar to her."
"No, a father can feel it; you are my Yuan!"
Mu Jingheng’s gaze was firm, reaching out to hold Yan Xinxin’s small hand.
She hesitated slightly but did not refuse.
"Seeing you, Chuxi must have taken good care of you, which reassures Dad."
"Hmm..."
Yan Xinxin nodded, unsure of what else to say.
She was also uncertain whether she was Mu Qianyuan, even though there were so many similarities, even if she might really have a split personality and become another persona, those could really just be coincidences.
"Xinxin, why are you here?"
"Tomorrow, there’s a jewelry exhibition hosted by Di Jue to promote next year’s new jewelry brand under their name."
Yan Xinxin explained with a smile.
"Mr. Mu, why are you here?"
She asked, turning to look at Mu Jingheng whose expression had changed slightly.
"That rascal Shaoqian came here a few days ago for a friend’s birthday party; when he came back, he suddenly said he wanted to hold a corporate event at Central Square tomorrow, but I couldn’t find him anywhere this morning. He said he was here talking to someone, so I came over to check it out."
"Eh?"
Yan Xinxin felt slightly strange.
"Xinxin, your belly is so big now, don’t overexert yourself, or Dad will worry."
Mu Jingheng sincerely advised.
Yan Xinxin felt a lot of emotions, but more than that, she felt warmth.
"I will."
"Click!"
As soon as Yan Xinxin responded, the sound of a photograph being taken suddenly rang out in front of her.
She turned around to see two media reporters.
"Mrs. Mo, could you tell us about your relationship with the Chairman of the Mu Group? Why do you seem so close?"
A male reporter walked over to ask, deliberately raising an eyebrow to look at Mu Jingheng holding Yan Xinxin’s hand.
Mu Jingheng had no intention of being perfunctory, raising his spirited eyes.
He was about to speak, but Yan Xinxin opened her mouth quicker.
"Look over there, a piece of wood just fell out of the exhibition hall, Mr. Mu kindly supported me, and the floor is a bit slippery. Given how pregnant I am, I’m a bit nervous walking on my own, so I asked Mr. Mu to assist me."
The two reporters listened to Yan Xinxin’s explanation, feeling it seemed reasonable.
But they didn’t back down; several young women strolling around the convention center saw this and gathered around.
"Mrs. Mo, tomorrow there will be a jewelry exhibition that you have organized here. It’s supposed to be an open exhibition; do you have confidence that the flow of people will reach 100,000?"
"Every year, the open exhibitions hosted by Di Jue have a flow of no fewer than 300,000 people. Mrs. Mo, although you are the boss’s wife, you seem to be a newcomer with no experience, so the estimated flow is 100,000 people. Are you confident?"
The reporter’s words were clearly barbed, and several young women whispered beside him.
"If she hadn’t married Young Master Mo, how could she be where she is today?"
"Exactly!"
"100,000 people? I think even 10,000 is impossible!"
"I can help answer this question for Mrs. Mo."
Just as Yan Xinxin was about to speak, a reckless voice suddenly came from the front of the exhibition hall.
