Mr. Bo, Madam Is Pregnant!

Chapter 432: Chapter 432

Mirror Room, wooden floor, dance bar, floor-to-ceiling windows covered with white sheer curtains. noveldrama

It was unclear when it had been arranged, but the lobby of the hot spring resort villa next door had turned into a dance room, with all the furniture removed and one entire wall covered by a mirror.

Jing Qiao stood quietly in front of the mirror.

Zhao Xiaole hopped in place, wearing those sapphire blue dance shoes. Indeed, despite his protests he was obviously curious.

Jing Qiao hadn’t even started teaching, and there he was in his dance shoes, desperately standing on tiptoe and even attempting ballet moves, looking quite convincing.

It brought a smile to the somewhat distracted Jing Qiao.

"I..." Jing Qiao gently bit her lip, "don’t have dance shoes, and I haven’t danced in a long time so I’m a bit rusty. I won’t demonstrate."

Su Lu did not insist and let Jing Qiao teach Zhao Xiaole the basic moves verbally.

Basics were usually tedious and hard. Although Zhao Xiaole was a child with great concentration and persistence, he couldn’t help but whine and consider giving up.

"Boohoo... This isn’t fun. I should just learn cool street dance later..." Zhao Xiaole pouted and feigned crying to Su Lu.

Su Lu held back a laugh and said seriously, "How did your mother teach you?"

"Persistence. Boohoo..." Zhao Xiaole continued his pretend crying then whined looking at Jing Qiao, "Mainly, auntie won’t dance for me; I find it boring."

Su Lu noticed Jing Qiao’s face turning pale and didn’t want to pressure her, so she explained to Zhao Xiaole seriously, "Auntie’s leg hurts. Don’t you feel sorry for her?"

Zhao Xiaole quickly replied, "Of course I feel sorry for Auntie, I’ll practice well..."

Jing Qiao paused for a moment and said softly, "Tomorrow, tomorrow I will demonstrate. I... haven’t danced in a long time. I need to prepare first, lest I fail and embarrass myself..."

"Sure, there’s no rush. Tomorrow then." Su Lu nodded.

Zhao Xiaole’s eyes sparkled, "Are we coming back here tomorrow?"

Su Lu nodded, "If you want to come, we’ll come."

"I want to!"

"Not choosing to go to the marine ball pit instead?" Su Lu asked him.

Zhao Xiaole seemed torn, "Can... can I go to the marine ball pit next time?"

"That works too, it’s up to you." Su Lu was always easy-going on non-principal matters.

"Then... can I soak in the hot spring tomorrow?" Zhao Xiaole asked quietly.

Su Lu shook her head, "Little kids shouldn’t soak in hot springs."

"Can I just sit by the pool and play with the water?" Zhao Xiaole asked again.

Su Lu looked towards Jing Qiao, "You ask your aunt."

Jing Qiao nodded, "Of course you can."

Zhao Xiaole was delighted, his mood brightening immensely.

It was getting late, and Su Lu didn’t plan to stay longer, preparing to leave with her son.

"So, should I tell your brother you’re alright?" Su Lu asked Jing Qiao.

Jing Qiao nodded, "Yes, tell brother not to worry about me."

"I’ll come over again tomorrow. Make sure you eat well, okay?" Su Lu said.

Jing Qiao smiled and kept silent.

Su Lu wouldn’t let it go and insisted, "Say you understand."

Jing Qiao felt helpless and nodded, "I understand."

"Good. Don’t get any thinner, or I’ll tell your brother you’re not doing well," Su Lu said.

Jing Qiao consciously nodded again, "I know."

Then her gaze faintly shifted towards the assistant of Song Boyuan, who had been standing at the entrance hall the whole time.

Without even speaking, the man came forward, "Madam, rest assured, I will take Miss Su back."

Thus, Su Lu and the child were sent back to the city from Yujing Villa.

Once she and Zhao Xiaole left, the holiday villa, which had just begun to buzz with some lively presence, seemed to cool down again.

Especially the dance studio.

Jing Qiao quietly observed the full wall of mirrors, looking steadily as though she could keep watching forever.

Then she gently took off her shoes and socks, rolled up her trouser legs, and tenderly massaged her leg muscles.

On her calves, there were several inches-long scars, and from the color and hypertrophic marks, they seemed to be old injuries.

Jing Qiao gently massaged her leg muscles, but her eyes lacked any focus.

The dance room was very quiet, without any music or voices.

Yet, it was as if she could hear voices speaking, this auditory hallucination almost seemed to resonate directly in her mind.

"Sorry, Mr. Song, your wife’s leg injuries are severe. Though recovering walking abilities shouldn’t be a problem, it’s unlikely that she can perform any strenuous activities."

At that time, Song Boyuan’s voice was low and deep, tinged with a rare urgency, "My wife is a ballet dancer! She needs full functionality of her legs!"

"I’m sorry, Mr. Song, although with significant rehabilitation, there is a possibility your wife may recover, the effectiveness of rehabilitation varies from person to person, and no one can be certain of its outcome."

These voices had once been deep nightmares for her.

But it had been a long time since she had recalled them.

Now remembering them again, she couldn’t quite describe how she felt. In the Psychiatric Hospital, when her condition was bad, recalling these events was like adding fuel to the fire, painfully making her wish for death.

But now recalling them didn’t hurt as much.

Her heart felt dull and somewhat numb; the years of pain seemed to have turned into thick, hard scars, less about pain and more about numbness.

Jing Qiao took a deep breath.

"Huff..." She exhaled deeply and then, slowly, very slowly... tiptoed on her toes.

Dancers have their own dominance; sometimes, just one gesture is enough to bring their presence to life.

In a corner, a hidden camera was capturing this scene, playing it before the eyes of Song Boyuan.

Watching the slender, graceful woman in the footage, who, after a moment of stillness, as if finally making a decision, slowly tiptoed.

Song Boyuan held his breath, as if afraid to disturb something, staring unblinkingly at the screen, as if fearing his own breath might disrupt the scene, as if it were a fragile illusion that could shatter at any touch.

He didn’t even feel the discomfort in his body for a moment.

In the footage, the sheer white curtains at the floor-to-ceiling windows were lifted by a breeze.

The slender woman gently tiptoed and then, after falling a few times, tiptoed again.

Then her eyes sparkled with bits of light, as if she had finally found her own rhythm. She pursed her lips and finally, slowly raised one long leg backward in a spinning motion.

The next second, with a thud, she fell to the ground.

At the moment of seeing this footage, Song Boyuan instinctively wanted to rush to her aid but restrained himself.

Right now, the last person she would want to see, was probably himself.