Luo Yiyi has never liked the scorching sunlight at noon, thinking it is too domineering, and she doesn't know it.

So early in the afternoon, she began to pack up her painting tools and prepare to leave this square with banyan trees but still difficult to hide the scorching sun.

"The pencil is off." A man's voice sounded in the back, suave.

Luo Yiyi was shocked, and when she turned to look, she saw a young and handsome man leaning over to pick up the pencil that he had accidentally dropped because of his hand just now.

When the man handed over the pencil, he smiled lightly at Luo Yiyi: "Are you helping someone draw?" Can you draw one for us? ”

It was undoubtedly an unfamiliar face, although the shallow tone of voice was so familiar.

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