Fu Shiyan arrived at the manor just as An Yan stood before the large French window, looking out expectantly.
She saw the man get out of the car, her face unable to hide the joy as she ran to open the door.
The moment the door opened, they embraced each other tightly.
To be precise, her huge belly and the man embraced each other tightly.
"My little ancestor, you running like that almost scared me to death," Fu Shiyan pretended to be frightened.
An Yan looked up at him, her hands cradling his face, then she steadied herself on his shoulders and arms, "Are you hurt?"
Fu Shiyan smiled helplessly, "Don't worry, I'm not hurt."
"Then why does your face look like it's covered in dust?"
"Pursuing criminals is bound to get a little dusty," Fu Shiyan didn't want to tell her that he had just been blasted by a rocket, not wanting her to worry.
If he had known he would end up looking so disheveled, he would have cleaned up before coming over.