Fang Yuzhong sneered, "You are not qualified to mention her to me." He looked at her beautiful face coldly, "What about Qin Xue?" Tell her to come out and let me hear what she has to say. Even though he was allowed to change his surname, he still called her by her original name, and it never changed. Obviously disgusted and resisted, but he was as willing as punishing himself. Zhi Jingrou felt that this man had been abnormal since many years ago.

She smiled coquettishly, and there was a hint of rebellion and provocation on a well-maintained face, "She's out, not at home." ”

It's pretty fast. Fang Yuzhong's eyes were thick and dark, and his pale and handsome face made Zhi Jingrou take a step back. She heard his cold voice unfazed, "Don't play tricks on me, I know your methods." If you still want to continue to be powerful in this house, you can do it yourself. His eyes were like ice cream, "Take care of Qin Xue's mouth, I have raised her for all these years, but I don't allow her to spread rumors and nonsense." Next time, you know what I'm going to do. ”

Such a man she has loved for many years, but still treats her like dust. Zhi Jingrou clenched her nails and looked at his departing back with hatred.

During this period, Han Luochen went back to the old mansion, where his grandfather and several old people still lived. He hadn't been back for a long time, and found that the green vines around the house had crawled all over the house, but by this time they were all gone. The old man is still alive, and his eyes are still as sharp as they were back then. He said, while I'm still here, you still have a chance to choose again. As long as you're willing to bow your head. He fiddled with a bouquet of Roland on the rosewood shelf, raising his eyebrows, but his expression was a gesture of disobedience. He came all the way and didn't even drink a cup of tea, so he was kicked out, and the old man gave him a sentence, bastard. Sooner or later you will regret it.

"Old man, next time you call me, I'll still say the same."

He raised his eyes to look at the old mansion that was overshadowed by the daylight, and his expression was indifferent. What did he do here, except for his grandmother, many people had already left.

He collected his thoughts, and after meeting his aunt who took care of him when he was a child, he left lightly. Every time I come here, I feel depressed and heavy. He remembered the incense on his grandmother's body again, and remembered the old man's fan bones, and the countless Kong Ming lanterns he let go. But he will never go back to that time when he was allowed to be at ease.

When Han Luochen came over, he found Lan Qingchuan in the flower room. She was upright on a wooden frame and was painting. In the pale sunlight, her eyebrows and eyes were quiet, and he was happy to see it. Her greenhouse is built very spacious, and in such snow and brightness, everything is like a painting. He pinched the snowflakes that had fallen on the glass overnight and threw them right on her canvas.

Lan Qingchuan frowned and turned to look at him. His face was as delicate as ever, but his expression was a little wrong, and there was flying snow in the distance between his eyebrows.

"What's wrong with you?" She watched as he approached and placed a small green plant on the wrought iron trellis indoors.

"The cherry star grass in the cold winter is rare for me to meet." He stretched out his slender fingers and touched the small purple flowers on it, so small, but burning with hope.

He tilted his head to glance at her, and saw that she was on a raised eyebrow, and the light penetrated through her pale black pupils, which made him a little dizzy for a moment. I found a seat and sat down, and then I said lazily, "It's nothing, I went out on a long trip, I arrived in the morning, and I didn't eat lunch, so I was driven back." He didn't want to say it, it must be a family matter, so Lan Qingchuan didn't ask anymore.