When Hai Lan was just a little beggar, she would look at the mansion every day, envying when she could live there herself.
Finally, the gem of the Hai Family had an accident, and the opportunity fell into her lap.
In the room, Hai Lan was holding a collection of Tagore's poetry, but she hadn't really read a word all morning.
It was only when Chen Huaying pushed the door open that she captured her attention.
"Well! Did you walk into the wrong room? Our Hai Family doesn't welcome just anyone." Hai Lan put down the book and sat cross-legged on the bed. The room was as warm as spring, and she was wearing only a beige cashmere sweater, a low-cut one at that.
Chen Huaying couldn't help but feel envious; the treatment was indeed great, something she had never enjoyed in her whole life.
"Hehehe..." Chen Huaying feigned ignorance, "I heard you took leave, so I came to see you."
"I took leave, and you don't know the real reason?"
"I know, that's why I came to see you."
