When Shen Qianfan was seven, both her parents died. In her tattered state, she was taken to Hancheng by Gu Qingyi.
Eighteen-year-old Gu Qianfan frowned at the filthy Shen Qianfan. “Kid, you should call me Uncle.”
Her eighteen-year-old uncle raised the seven-year-old girl, cherishing her every step of the way.
The girl grew into a young woman, and feelings she kept hidden began to take root in the dark, growing wildly.
“Gu Qingyi, I don’t want to call you Uncle anymore.”
“Kid, go study abroad.”
The young woman’s hopes came to an abrupt end. She could only carry her secret and grow up alone.
Cen Shuyu was the younger brother of her friend Cen Lishu, a brash, arrogant rich kid.
She never imagined she’d have anything to do with Cen Yushu.
But the instant his face appeared, the hazy memories of that night in London gradually became clear.
At Gu Qingyi’s wedding, everyone was offering their blessings in the chapel when Cen Yushu grabbed Shen Qianfan and pulled her into a shadowy corner.
Cen Yushu held her slender waist, his breath warm against her ear. “Forget him…”
