Those icy words, every syllable was like a cold blade, so merciless.
An Xiaoyu stared into Chu Mucheng's eyes, but all she saw was dead silence and a chilling emptiness.
Taking a deep breath, An Xiaoyu turned away to clear the path, as Chu Mucheng's car sped off, leaving behind a trail of rolling dust.
Chu Mucheng had abandoned her halfway up the hill.
An Xiaoyu went to pick up her bag, but Chu Mucheng's force had been so great that her backpack had been thrown to the edge of the road, right next to a steep cliff.
An Xiaoyu sighed.
Perhaps she really shouldn't have intervened in his business just now.
What he wants to do is his freedom, it has nothing to do with her; why should she interfere?
By now, those who had come to watch the race had all left one by one, and An Xiaoyu stood there, somewhat at a loss.
At that moment, that red Ferrari suddenly stopped beside her.
"Need a ride?"
It was still Yin Limo.
