Accompanied by the people Wen Suihan had brought, Zhu Huan went home.
When she opened the front door of the villa, the click of the lock sounded like a hammer striking her heart.
Every step Zhu Huan took felt unbearably heavy.
There were too many things she didn't want to face, yet had no choice but to confront.
Wen Suihan's people had already taken her phone; now she didn't even have the only means she had to contact the outside world.
She didn't dare make any big moves, because she knew Wen Suihan would do exactly as he said.
Of course, she also no longer wanted to tip off Zhu Ying.
The answer she wanted was obvious enough—wasn't Shen Yonghui lying right in front of her?
Shen Yonghui had started suffering from hemiplegia a few years ago; when she saw him again, he kept confessing and repenting to her.
At first, she was unwilling to believe this man ever again.
But the love she held for him deep in her heart had never been worn away.
