Yan Rusheng had no idea why he had this insane urge to come here every night. Jiang Zhuoheng would send her back home, and he would only catch a glimpse of her alighting from the car.
But if he didn't see this scene every day, he would feel frustrated.
He would be anxiously wondering if Jiang Zhuoheng had gone up with her, and what they were doing in her apartment and so on.
He lit a cigarette, and he forgot all about it until it burnt his fingers. He threw it away hastily.
He lifted his head once more, and the lights were switched off in that apartment on the seventh floor.
He pressed the ignition button, and the black Mercedes gradually disappeared into the darkness.
…
Wen Xuxu could sense that Young Master Yan was feeling troubled these past two days. He didn't even bother finding trouble with her.
And he seemed to be avoiding her on purpose. She wondered if she was imagining things.
