Zhao Ling did not object to Meng Yuan's order just now. This woman, Lou Xinyue, was too sinister, and the repeated harm to her had touched the bottom line of what she could endure.
She was not one to tolerate and back down without principle.
Nestled in Meng Yuan's broad and warm embrace, Zhao Ling felt an unprecedented peace of mind. She had been locked up in the He Mansion these past few days.
Although she appeared calm on the surface, she had never let go of her heart for a moment. Facing the shrewd and powerful He Liancheng, every word she said and everything she did were carefully thought out and calculated in many ways. At this time, she suddenly felt relieved, and couldn't help closing her eyes in sleep.
"A-Yuan, where are we going?" Rubbing against Meng Yuan's chest, Zhao Ling was sleepy and muttered.
