Song Huan handed her a handkerchief politely. "There, use mine."
Zhong Yue took it in silence and dabbed at the corners of her eyes. "Are you going to ask me why I was crying?"
"You'll tell me if you want to. I won't make you do it." Song Huan smiled. "Home or hotel?"
"Hotel, please. Thank you."
"Alright."
Zhong Yue was a little flustered by his gentleness.
The car stopped outside a hotel and Song Huan led Zhong Yue to the reception counter. A staff immediately produced the room card to the presidential suite. "Mr. Song, welcome!"
"Stay for as long as you want. Call me if you need anything." Song Huan left after that.
Once he was back at the company, he sent his assistant to check Zhong Yue's whereabouts for the past few days.
She had been crying for a simple and cliche reason.
The man she liked had slept with her best friend and she had caught them in the act. She broke down, cried her way out, and had run into him.
