She can't afford to provoke him, but can't she avoid him either?
What could this man possibly give her besides his cruel, repeated injuries?
Shang Haohao herself no longer knew why she liked him. Why she loved him.
She glared fiercely at Yue Feng, seeing that he remained unmoving.
Shang Haohao withdrew her hand, turned around, and strode back to the room, slamming the door with a loud "bang."
Leaning against the door, her tears fell uncontrollably in large droplets. Her petite body slid weakly down against the door, landing with a thud on the floor.
Being humiliated over and over again by the man she loved—this feeling hurt more than a knife to the chest.
Yes, she liked Yue Feng, but when she realized he didn't like her in return, she never hoped for a future with him, nor did she obsessively cling to him.
Yet who could have predicted fate's cruel play—what happened between them made her a victim too, but Yue Feng's words continued to humiliate her.
