There were no more scars on Leng Hao's face anymore. He didn't do anything. All he did was looked at the paintings on the stage. No one could see the expression in his eyes.
Among them was a landscape painting. He liked it. Achen raised his placard immediately and took it down. Then, he got up and left.
He didn't say a word throughout the whole process. Ye Xiaotao saw the corner of his black tweed coat fluttering in the wind when he turned, drawing a cold and indifferent arc in the air.
It was like the feeling he gave off just now.
For some reason, Ye Xiaotao felt as though something hard slammed into her heart.
Did he leave just like that?
What was he planning?
Ye Xiaotao bit her lower lip with her sharp teeth. She hated herself very much because he was always easily influenced by him.
Perhaps it was because she hated him too much.
"Xiaotao, Xiaotao..."
