When they were going downstairs, Liang Weining forcefully dragged Mr. Chen to take the elevator.
Why?
Because she was afraid of running into Uncle Ming and Josie; she was emotionally unstable, and it would take just one glance for people to see through her.
The metallic walls reflected the girl's moist eyes, the blush under her collar hadn't faded, and her pale neck, delicate like cream satin, was covered in both deep and shallow red marks.
When she felt wronged, she would always focus her gaze on one spot, distractedly lost in thought.
The elevator door opened, and Mr. Chen took her wrist, walking out with composed steps.
There was a back door next to the living room terrace, which led straight to the parking garage.
The Cullinan's headlights flashed twice. Liang Weining, feeling downcast, pointed at the car next to it, saying she wanted to ride in the big G.
Switching cars would mean having to go back for the keys.
