Tang Mubei was driving swiftly on the deserted mountain roads at night. There was a bend ahead, and beyond it was the road back to the city. He kept his eyes on the front, suddenly turning the steering wheel for the curve, the tires screeching harshly against the ground.
Tang Mubei's speed only kept increasing.
In his mind, all he could think about were the words Old Sir Tang had said.
No wonder Qiu Ye showed signs of softening but still refused to accept him; it turned out because he was the son of her enemy.
Facing him every day without saying a word, who knows how much she had to endure on her own.
The wind outside the car window whistled past, cutting painfully into his cheeks, yet he seemed to feel nothing.
It was not yet nine o'clock, and there were still many cars coming and going on the roads in the city. Yet, Tang Mubei did not slow down, steering smoothly through the traffic.
Finally, he drove into a residential complex and parked under a certain building.
