"You—!" Pan Shuangquan's new wife was so angry that she gnashed her teeth. If it weren't for the child she was carrying, fearing harm to the baby inside, she really wanted to step forward and tear An Jing's mouth apart.
"What does it matter if you can bear children?" An Jing chuckled softly, "If you give birth to daughters each time, you'll still have to adopt a son. Don't argue with me that you can definitely bear a son; better wait until the day you actually give birth to a son before you talk about this. Right now, you're just making empty boasts about being able to have a son, aren't you afraid of being laughed at by everyone?"
As more and more onlookers gathered, the faces of Pan Shuangquan and his new wife grew redder.
Finally, his new wife, overcome with embarrassment and rage, retorted sharply, "I will definitely have a son! My mother and sister both had sons! I will certainly be able to as well!"