Qin Chengyou simply hated the name Yan Wan. A few years later, when she stood in front of him in a crisp suit, those flawless hands that she once thought were like those of a pianist grasped Yan Wan's chin tightly, pinching her facial features in pain. His originally modest and jade-like face was covered with a terrifying blue color, and he said fiercely: "Now that I have everything, please beg me and let me help you. Maybe if I am soft-hearted, I can give you everything you want."
His jaw hurt as if it was about to loosen at any moment. Qin Chengyou looked down at her, and the woman's eyes were dim and indifferent reflected in his dark pupils. He suddenly felt a layer of disgust in his eyes as if he had been stung, and he shook Yan Wan's face away with force.
Kneeling on his solid wood floor, his pair of bright leather shoes were spotlessly at hand. Yan Wan calmly smoothed the hair on his forehead and reached out to grab his trouser legs.
"President Qin, please help Wan Wan."
His hand that was originally hanging on the side of his trousers was clenched tightly into a fist full of veins after she finished speaking. Even though it was so close, he could no longer smell any breath at this time.
After a long time, his voice that was about to freeze people came slowly from above his head: "Okay. Yan Wan, I once had a glimmer of hope in you, but it was really stupid to think about it."
Chengyou, although Yan Wan is smiling, after all, he is not a device, he always has a heart and lungs, and he will feel pain and injury.
However, you may no longer care about this.