Qin Zheng's forehead vein throbbed, barely containing his fury about to burst, "Then what do you want?"
Mu Anran demurely looked down, hands twisted together at her chest, "I... I want a wedding..."
"What?" Qin Zheng's scalp exploded as if he had just heard some joke.
He had only three months, and within these three months, he had to make sure that Mu Anran was pregnant with his child.
Moreover, predicting pregnancy isn't possible.
It might work in one go, or it might take a year or two—all these were unknowns.
Where would he have the mind to prepare for a wedding?
Mu Anran, seeing Qin Zheng's expression, couldn't help but sneer inwardly.
But on the surface, she still maintained a hopeful smile, "Actually, knowing that you love me is enough. But every girl hopes for a wedding... It doesn't have to be a big event, just a few friends to witness it would do."
Qin Zheng's temples throbbed, his gaze fixed intently on Mu Anran.