Bai Wei glanced at Fu Han, a hint of worry hidden in her eyes—or perhaps it would be more accurate to say that she had been worried about Fu Han since the day of her wedding.
How to put it, everything that was happening now, one thing after another, seemed to be headed in a bad direction, as if an invisible hand was behind it all, orchestrating events, but she felt powerless to stop it.
The hotel was resplendent in gold and bright lights, and the security guard at the entrance stood ramrod straight. As they approached from a distance, the welcoming staff came up to greet them, "Do you have a reservation?"
Fu Xingbo, holding Bai Qian's hand, walked forward. Fu Han, trailing a few steps behind them, followed, and Bai Wei lagged even further behind, her eyes heavy with thoughts as she gazed at Fu Han's retreating figure.
