The elevator was approaching the eightieth floor when Gu Xiaoer finally dropped her arms in dejection, hugging her bag and bowing her head in sorrow.
Feeling uncomfortable inside, she wanted to cry but held it back, unwilling to let Han Luoli see her in her vulnerable state.
Torn with conflict, the elevator numbers kept rising, and Gu Xiaoer waited anxiously.
Just as the elevator reached the seventies, it shook inexplicably.
Gu Xiaoer's body swayed with the momentum, and she looked around in confusion. Are even the president's elevators this unstable?
It was only a fleeting thought before a severe sway followed, and the elevator floor numbers started plummeting. This terrified Gu Xiaoer, who had never experienced an elevator accident before, and she instinctively became tense, quickly turning her gaze toward the man.
Han Luoli was unmoved, his expression indifferent, as if such incidents were nothing unusual to him. Of course, he didn't even spare a glance for Gu Xiaoer.
