This girl loved him when he was rich and magnificent, and helped him when he was poor as a church mouse.
He did not know if that counted as love, but later, as he grew richer and stood at the pinnacle of business legend, he found himself alone at night, holding a glass of red wine, standing in front of the floor-to-ceiling window, looking at the myriad of lights, enjoying the loneliness brought by his success, and miraculously, he would always think of her.
That yearning was like an insect, gnawing at his heart bit by bit, gnawing until he thought Gu Enen was the goal he pursued all his life, only to find that when confronted with Gu Lanshan, it seemed so insignificant.
The richer he became, the less he felt the warmth of human relationships, but the memory of Gu Lanshan alone, the woman who cooked and washed his clothes in the bitter winter, would inexplicably fill him with warmth.
