Chapter 53 The clothes fit perfectly.
“I’m not wronged.” Ye Qingning sniffed, forcing her eyes back into her gaze, her tone firm and stubborn: “How dare I feel wronged? How have I the right to feel wronged?”
She blurted out those words almost without thinking, only realizing afterward that something seemed inappropriate.
It sounded like she was complaining.
She pursed her lips, wanting to explain, but unsure how to say it.
Besides, what she said was true.
She's someone who's desperately trying to survive; she has no right to feel wronged!
After a moment, the man released her wrist, lightly brushed the imaginary dust off his knees, glanced at the bags in the passenger seat, and said coolly, "My clothes?"
Ye Qingning looked down at the red marks on her wrist and the clear, deep soreness, and felt a sudden sense of powerlessness.
"Hmm." She only responded with a soft "hmm," then leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes, pretending to doze off.
I don't want to talk to him.
I don't want to at all.
That's a pervert!
Receiving little response, the man turned his head slightly to look at her, only to see her stubborn profile.
The setting sun cast a soft, orange glow on her face, and her long eyelashes fluttered gently beneath her eyes.
Although she tried her best to close her eyes, a single tear still rolled down her cheek.
Tears streamed down her clear, flawless face, disappearing into her neck, yet they felt like a hot, burning drop falling into his heart.
The scalding heat made his mind race.
Slightly astringent, slightly sour, slightly bloated...
A mixture of emotions, a chaotic and disorderly scene.
Lin Feiyan clenched his fist slightly, but the strange feeling in his heart still couldn't be dispelled. He frowned slightly and looked away.
An hour later, the car pulled into the Lin residence and parked in its parking space. The driver cautiously said, "Sir, we've arrived."
Lin Feiyan nodded, but before he could say anything, Ye Qingning, who was next to him, had already pushed open the car door, gotten out, closed the door, and left.
...
In the bedroom, Lin Feiyan looked at the bags on the bed, pondered for a moment, and finally got up to open them one by one.
A grey plaid suit, three shirts, three ties, and six agate cufflinks...
Lin Feiyan looked at them one by one. Although they couldn't compare to the suits he usually wore, they were still made of high-quality materials and were finely crafted.
There was a receipt in his suit pocket. He picked it up and looked at it. It cost 100,000 yuan in total.
Lin Feiyan lowered her eyes and thought for a moment. She had pawned her bags and jewelry for a total of 500,000 yuan, and spent 370,000 yuan on a watch, so she only had 30,000 yuan left.
So she spent most of the money from pawning her things on him.
With a softened gaze, Lin Feiyan changed into the clothes Ye Qingning had bought for him, then sat in his wheelchair and went out the door, arriving directly at Ye Qingning's door.
He listened intently and found the room unusually quiet. After a moment of silence, he reached out and knocked on the door.
After a while, just as he was about to turn and leave, the door to the room was opened.
Ye Qingning pursed her lips and looked down at him, her lips drooping, still looking aggrieved and angry.
Their eyes met, and Lin Feiyan read the undisguised grievance in her clear and innocent eyes.
A thought suddenly struck him, and he coughed lightly: "The clothes... fit quite well."
Ye Qingning then noticed that the man was wearing the clothes she had made for him, from head to toe: a white shirt, a black and white striped tie, and a neatly pressed gray plaid suit.
With his refined and aloof features, even while sitting in a wheelchair, his dignified and aloof aura still emanated from within.
Domineering and aloof, exquisite and sharp.
Perhaps some people are born into nobility.
Just like Lin Feiyan.
She slightly averted her gaze and lowered her eyes: "Yes, as long as it's suitable."
Lin Feiyan lightly twirled his fingers, his gaze falling on her wrist where the red marks had not yet faded. After a moment of silence, he directly raised his hand to hold hers.
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