Su Qingyu's face was as pale as paper, her features haggard and drawn. She pounded relentlessly on the locked door.,For Cheng Ruijin, her family background was like a thorn embedded in her heart. Fortunately, three years of forbearance had not been in vain.,Shen Zhao looked at Su Qingyu with a blank expression, his face cold and hard. Only the depths of his eyes flickered with waves.。