Chu Yu shrugged, so heartless, not even willing to say a few more words.
As if the one who was desperately trying to keep her, hugging her tightly last night wasn't him.
She pouted, turned around and went downstairs, casually glancing around.
Hanging from the ceiling of the hall was a huge, luxurious crystal chandelier, and the living room was filled with expensive, exquisite porcelain, any piece of which seemed like it could buy a house.
Truly wealthy people!
Greedy capitalists!
At the bottom of the stairs, next to the handrail, was a pot of blooming calla lilies; Chu Yu's eyes lit up for a moment. The floral language of calla lilies is undying love, which is also her favorite flower.
Humph, at least he has taste.
Seeing a speck of dirt on one of the leaves, she instinctively raised her hand to wipe it off.
"Don't touch it."
A cold voice came from upstairs.
