Three years have passed, just like this, going back and forth, and the lavender in the flower house has been tossed around by him again and again. But, for some unknown reason, those lavenders did not die, but grew even more splendidly.
She thought, tonight the lavenders in the flower house might not escape another round of torment. Sometimes, she didn't even know whether she should sympathize with the lavenders in the flower house or sympathize with Mr. Leng.
For some reason, although Mr. Leng was very cold, sometimes even particularly scary, deep down, she felt some sympathy for him, because she could tell that Mr. Leng seemed not to be happy.
In these three years, he seemed never to be happy.
She couldn't understand, a person like Mr. Leng, with wealth, power, intelligence, and a beautiful, understanding fiancée, his life was so perfect, why was he not happy?
Ah, the world of the rich is indeed hard to understand.
