Ning Qing was stunned as she looked up in a panic. She bumped into a pair of dark eyes that were deep and bright. It was Lu Shaoming.
Lu Shaoming was back.
He was still wearing the white shirt he'd worn yesterday afternoon. The corners of his shirt were tucked into his black trousers by a shiny metal belt, his waist strong and narrow. Perhaps because of the flight, his clothes had been wrinkled, but it had not diminished his nobility and power. Even those wrinkles gave off a man's elegance and handsomeness.
Behind him stood a personal assistant, who held his suit in one hand and his business bag in the other.
One hand was shoved into his pants' pocket while another gripped onto her waist, he deep gaze swept past the tears on her face. His sexy thin lips tipped slightly, and he looked at her with a slight adoration, as if he were looking at a little girl who loved to cry.
