The azure sea was shrouded in a thin layer of mist, and the small islands standing in the sea looked like a strong ink painting, ethereal and obscure, giving an unreal sensation.
Liang Jing stood before the window of her 28th-floor office, enjoying the distant sea view, her mood as murky as the fog. She felt that her life was in stark contrast to those islands.
The islands seemed unreal but were genuinely there, while she appeared to have everything yet, in reality, had nothing; she had no control over anything.
She hated herself, knowing that he would eventually let go, yet she didn't know when she got lost, hoping he would give her a result.
This morning, in just a fleeting moment, she suddenly realized how ridiculous she was—just a plaything for him to relieve his loneliness. Conveniently, this plaything could also help his career, so he allowed her into his home, to stay in his villa.
