Living With a Temperamental Adonis: 99 Proclamations of Love

Song Qingchun stood staring downstairs for a long time. For a long time, until her legs became numb, she slowly blinked as if she had made a decision, then slowly turned around and walked step by step. Up the stairs.

Song Qingchun walked slowly, but a dozen steps, it took her five minutes to reach the second floor.

Sunshine just came in through the window, hitting the golden corridor. Song Qingqing stared at the entrance of the study twenty meters away for about half a minute, and finally walked over.

The door of the study was tightly closed, and there was no movement in it. The San Baiping villa was quiet and strange, and Song Qingchun could hear his own heartbeat.

This door is an option.

Song Qingchun clenched her fists tightly, as if doing her final thoughts and struggles, but this time, she seemed to be afraid that she would regret at any time. She didn't ponder for long, so she raised her hand and knocked on the door.

Only five seconds after the knock on the door settled, a light voice unique to Su Zhinian came out of the study: "Go in."

Song Qingchun quietly pushed open the door, glanced inwards first, and saw Su Zhinian sitting at the desk, banging on the computer with a very focused expression.

Song Qingchun walked to the desk with breath.

Su Zhinian seemed to be attracted all the attention by the computer, did not raise his head to ignore Song Qingnian in front of him.

Song Qingchun waited for a moment, and said: "General Su."

Su Zhinian still stared at the computer screen, his expression did not change much, just a vague "en" sound, and then continued on the keyboard, his fingertips pounded quickly.

Song Qingchun didn't bother Su Zhinian again.

The study room was exceptionally quiet, except for Su Zhinian's crackling sound of typing on the keyboard from time to time.

Song Qingchun was so bored that he couldn't help raising his eyes and quietly looked at Su Zhinian.

He wore a very simple white shirt with slightly curled cuffs, showing a white and **** wrist, and long fingers on the keyboard.

The sunlight outside the window was just right, and the warmth passed through the window, just hit him, and outlined his white shirt with a golden outline, making him look extraordinarily deep.

Song Qingchun wanted to find some flaws in him, but even if she was picky again, her pickiness eventually turned into admiration.

She is a reporter. She has interviewed many picturesque stars on the screen, but she has never seen a person, from temperament to facial features to skin, better than him.

She still had to admit that his perfection was too unreal.

Song Qingchun somehow thought of what the netizens said when they commented on a photo of Su Zhinian: the place where he is, the picturesque scenery.

At that time, when she saw this sentence, she sneered a bit, thinking that netizens were too blind, and it was obviously that the scene selection was good.

But now, she discovered that it was not exaggerating, but fact.

This man has a natural ability, as long as he appears in a place, he can be picturesque.

Because, he is a painting in himself, not that the scenery accompanies him, but that he embellishes the scenery.

When Song Qingnian's feet were all pantothenic, Su Zhinian's eyes finally left the computer. He glanced at Song Qingnian and leaned on the office chair behind him. He asked calmly, "Think of it?"