The phrase "I'm okay," hides so much bitterness and tears, Leng Youchen's heart suddenly tightened. He knew that Asians trying to gain recognition in the white world find it harder than black people.
Just how stubborn is she, refusing to rely on the Duke Mansion's power, struggling alone through hardships to reach her current position?
He felt heartache for her.
The more he understood her, the more his heart ached.
Leng Youchen bent down slightly, grinding his shoe on Div's face a few times, "I'm warning you, if you dare to insult her again, you'll reap what you sow!"
Div wailed in pain, "Don't step on my face, don't step on my face."
Xiao Yu, holding Wei Anning's hand, couldn't help but laugh as she watched the playboy beg. Even at this moment, he still cared about his face, looking so worn out, what's even worth protecting?
Leng Youchen withdrew his foot, packed the blueprints into the drawing tube, and grabbed Wei Anning's wrist, heading out of the café.
