The rusty elevator network clanked loudly in the dirty space.
Arthur Yan held a bag of freshly baked bread in her arms, and her eyes did not contain any emotion.
His exquisite silk shirt was as elegant as the wind, like a long goblet made of glass, which was incompatible with the simplicity of the elevator.
When the elevator went up the corridor, a gentle smile suddenly appeared in his affectionate peach blossom eyes, flashing in his eyes, injecting gentle vitality into his whole person, as if this was his truest emotion.
The elevator door opened with a bang. He didn't get out immediately. Instead, he knocked on the metal elevator wall three times and then long.
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