Luo Jie quickly looked away, but muttered in his heart, you look like this and put on such an expression is simply an eyesore, I don't think anyone wants to look at you, hehe.

Han Luochen naturally didn't know that he was slandering, he was looking at Lan Qingchuan lazily, his posture was comfortable and leisurely, his birch eyes were like a night sky full of starlight, heavy, and there was a faint light that made people slightly dizzy.

Lan Qingchuan was peeling pomegranates with her head down at this time, and the plump pink pomegranate seeds slid from her white and crystal fingertips to the bone plate at hand, one by one, like beautiful gems. She untied the silk scarf, tied her long hair loosely, and hung it down on her chest, lining her face to be extremely delicate, a little less cold and comfortable than usual.

She peeled the pomegranate quietly, unaware that the two people opposite had repeatedly scanned her from head to toe, from her beautiful and calm face, her delicate and straight upper body, to the black woolen skirt, her slender calves, delicate ankles, all the way to the white slippers.

It's really a good look. Luo Jie scored 99 points in his heart, and one point less was that he didn't hear her voice. She has always been silent and cold, but she is several times more pleasing to the eye than those pretentious and enthusiastic girls in the circle, and it is no wonder that she is remembered by Han Luochen.

He and Han Luochen grew up wearing the same pair of pants since they were children, and of course their preferences for him are clear. Han Luochen is a freak and a strange man, with a beautiful face like a flower, but he has an indifferent, vicious, arrogant and unbridled character. Hehe, such a contradictory and grotesque person, I don't know how many celebrities are obsessed with him. But this kid has no one in his eyes, and ordinary people can't get into his eyes.

But who is he Luo Jie, Han Luochen's every move can't escape his eyes, he is sensitive to the difference between Han Luochen recently, and he has obviously restrained a little, as if he is hiding something that no one knows.

Until she happened to meet Lan Qingchuan in the guild hall, she was playing tennis with a young man in the circle, wearing light-colored sportswear, wearing a hairband, and her back was slender and graceful. Han Luochen sat beside him, kicked the coffee table at his feet, his expression was cold, and he stared at the boy who had lost two games, "Repeated mistakes, bad intentions." Luo Jie savored his words, stunned, as if he had been struck by lightning.

This Lan Qingchuan grew up abroad, born in a famous family, and must be noble and self-sustaining. He had only seen her once, and he only felt that she was quiet and indifferent, and that she was not easy to approach. He was also surprised, except for that accident, the two of them hardly met, how could Han Luochen just target her. The Lan clan is used to producing beauties, which is not an uncommon thing, and there are many soft and delicate girls in the circle. Lan Qingchuan is beautiful, still immature, but it is not stained with fireworks, alienated and rejects people.

Luo Jie instinctively shook his head, came back to his senses, and found that Han Luochen had already walked towards her. Lan Qingchuan is still peeling pomegranates, and less than half of the remaining pomegranates are loosely covered with a white fruit film. The pomegranates are seedless crystal red pomegranates carefully cultivated in large orchards, and the freshest of these first batches have just been flown in from the United States.

Her fingers were slender and delicate, but their nails were cleanly trimmed, round as scallops, and faintly powdered, which was obviously a pair of hands playing the piano.

On the round glass table beside him, there was a bouquet of orange and red dill, scattered among the large emerald green leaves, and there were some white stars in the vase. The pomegranate seeds she peeled were served on delicate plates, and at first glance they matched the emerald green plaid tablecloth pressed under the glass.