His mind was filled with the image of Mi Yao's cold and stubborn little face, and he knew she had already...left him.
Last night, he treated her that way, even inviting Huangfu Jianchen to come over, she must have completely despised him.
No matter if he was Gu Yunsheng or not, her eyes no longer held...affection.
Feng Yueming clenched his large palms on the table into fists, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed, his heart torn with pain as though it had been ripped apart.
Just then, a "drip" sounded, and a droplet of fresh blood fell onto the table.
He reached out to touch it, and realized he was bleeding from his nose.
In an instant, his ears were filled with the screeching sound of a passing train, so piercing that he clutched his head and fell directly onto the carpet, knocking over the table and chairs.
