Chapter 217

Her eyes were crimson, and the old guy in front of her appeared to sense the loss and battle raging
within her heart during the brief seconds they shared. People who loved art appeared to have pure
hearts. Stella, too, wished she could maintain her innocence, but…

“The me now really don’t deserve your piano. I know you only make a few pianos in a year. You should
leave it for those who deserve it more than me.” Seeing her persistence, Mr. Kennedy waved his hand.

“Alright. You can go out.” Stella shut the door and the minute she turned around she saw Weston
waiting for her in the corridor. Seeing that her eyes were red, he frowned and walked to her.

“Why are you crying?” He gently wiped the tears off her face and said in a heavy tone, “What did Mr.
Kennedy say to you?” She shook her head. “Nothing.” Not believing what he heard, Weston walked
past her, trying to push the door open. “What are you doing?!” She immediately pulled his hands. He
glared coldly and in a chilling tone, said, “Although he’s my teacher, he can’t bully my girl.”

“He didn’t bully me,” she said helplessly.

“I don’t want to play the piano anymore.”

“Why? Don’t you like it?” He stopped in his tracks when he heard this. She shook her head and said,
“Even if there’s a piano at home, I won’t have the time for it. Plus, Mr. Kennedy only produces a few
pianos in a year, and there are still so many people waiting. I don’t want to take anyone’s place.”
Weston calmed down when he heard her say the word ‘home’. He reached his hands out to caress her
face.

“Stop caring about others. If you want it, I’ll give it to you.” “I really don’t want it now.” She gazed at him
with sincerity and honesty. He gently pinched her cheeks and felt helpless. “Stella, when will you ever



stop putting other people before yourself?” This stunned her for a little while. It was indeed true. She
had always put others first, no matter what she did.

The expression on her face dulled, and she whispered, “I won’t do that, ever again.” The original plan
was to get Stella a piano but since she didn’t want it, he took her home. Their car sped down the
highway.

“Where do you want to go next?” he asked her.

She shook her head and turned to him suddenly. “Don’t you have anything to do?”

Although her words were ambiguous, they did make Weston think that she didn’t want to be with him
anymore. His forehead scrunched into a frown, he asked, “Do you hope that I have something else to
do?” Her eyes flashed, and she didn’t say a word.

It was indeed what she had intended, and she didn’t want to make it obvious.


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