Later on, Shen Jing truly had no time to return to Shanghai and seemed to have cut off everything related to that city, unwilling to reminisce.
When she did think about it, thoughts of Zhou Luchen's affection made her heart soften easily.
She couldn't remember the exact date. It seemed like a very long time since she had seen Luchen, nor had she received any messages from him.
She had stopped browsing foreign websites.
There was no point. Others were handling his scandals for him now.
「New York, the north shore of Long Island. The Imperial Manor.」
An executive Rolls-Royce parked below the manor.
Zhou Luchen returned from a drinking party, having had liquor, his body carrying a hint of the muddled aroma of brandy—rich and potent.
Zhuang Ming prepared hangover soup for him, but he pushed it away without saying a word.
