"President..."
At this moment, what exactly did Sakuragi Hitomi look like in Yan Huan's eyes?
But there she was, kneeling on the ground with her bangs in disarray, looking up at him, the tear stains not yet dry, slightly shimmering due to the light seeping in from behind.
In her vacant eyes, hope emerged because they reflected Yan Huan's figure, but the next second, she seemed to remember something and lowered her head slightly.
"Ugh..."
Seeing this, the smile on Yan Huan's face faded a bit, like cracks forming on the surface of a mask.
To be honest, Yan Huan was not a heartless playboy.
He couldn't just go through an emotional meltdown yesterday and then control his expressions naturally today.
So, he chose to wear the mask of Perfect Expression Management.
But right now, witnessing the usually graceful Sakuragi Hitomi tearfully vulnerable in front of him, his mask seemed as unstable as something sticky, ready to fall off.
