Seven years ago, on a cold and endlessly desolate night, in front of the front door of the Leng family, a small figure with messy long hair was running wildly out of control. The wind was so biting, and her beautiful face was slightly panicked. Yes, she escaped. She wanted to leave this cold mansion forever and escape from it all;
.....................................
"Yan Xihan, you bitch!" The furious man punched the photo frame hanging in the study room. The broken photo frame blurred the face of the person in the photo. The man's sharp gaze seemed to pierce the man. He stared hard regardless of the bleeding hand. There was a deathly silence in the air. Suddenly, there was a sound of soft footsteps outside the study room, and a hint of tenderness suddenly flashed in the man's scarlet eyes. . . He picked it up on the ground
fragments, whispering: "Han'er, is it you..."
In a small white villa in a small town in England, Yan Xihan's face was full of tears, clutching the torn clothes on her chest, looking at the angry man in front of her, unbearable words spilled from his thin lips: "Young woman! She is just as cheap as before!!" After saying that, leaving the man crying softly, he turned and left. . . . . .
This article is slow, abusive, and the introduction is incompetent. Welcome to the pit. . . . . . . Qing Xiaoren