On the way back, Wei Anning stared out the window at the swiftly passing streets, her mind in turmoil.
Leng Youchen sat beside her, his gaze examining her. Her action of apologizing to her grandfather in the private room had indeed touched his heart.
In that moment, he had decided, no matter who she was, he was going to make her his.
Still holding her cold little hand in his, he brought it to his lips and breathed on it gently, warming it inch by inch, "What are you thinking about?"
Turning her head, Wei Anning saw her little hand enveloped by his large one, a pang of sorrow hitting her heart, her eyes slightly moist, she threw herself into his arms and murmured lowly, "Leng Youchen, I want to go home."
Home was the one in the United Kingdom.
Her expression revealed a trace of vulnerability, and Leng Youchen held her tightly, softly saying, "We're already on our way home, dear, we'll be home soon."
