The stairwell was very quiet. At this time, no one was outside.
Su Peizhen's words were undoubtedly like a needle stabbing into Ling Jing's chest. It was so uncomfortable, really uncomfortable.
"No."Ling Jing shook his head. His expression was full of bitterness. "I, I am serious this time. Believe me."
It was not a game, not a performance, not a game.
It was he who understood his sincerity and knew that he had been wrong. He just wanted her.
"Serious? I wonder how much young Master Ling's seriousness is worth? Tell me, although I am not short of money. But I am really curious, how much can I, a prisoner of labor, be worth in Young Master Ling's eyes? "This time, how much money does young master ling plan to use to support me?"
Words could sometimes turn into sharp blades. Every word Su Peizhen said now was like a knife, stabbing Ling Jing's heart again and again.