Five minutes later, the car precisely stopped at the entrance of Fu Han's studio. She didn't know where she found the strength, but she opened the heavy car door in one move. After getting out of the car, she was still seething with anger, slamming the car door shut with so much force that the glass on the car emitted a trembling sound as if it was about to shatter.
Ji Liangchuan followed Fu Han out of the car, his gaze fixed on her from the beginning to the end. Unfortunately, Fu Han didn't even give him a glance and went straight into the studio.
The street in the morning wasn't crowded. The bluestone pavement was clean, devoid of even a speck of snow. The sun overhead appeared to be cold, as if it were wearing a sweater, barely radiating any strength.
