Han Luochen came to pick her up, and when he drove to her neighborhood, he saw a private car just driving out of the garden. It was a man in black who got into the car, with a straight and stern back, and got into the car without any delay. The butler was at the door, and he didn't turn around until the car was gone. He recognized that the man was Lan Qingchuan's father, a well-known good tool in the business world. In the early years, his family also suffered a secret loss at his hands. He had also heard a little about Fang Yuzhong and the Lan Consortium, and it was no secret that the relationship between their father and daughter was frozen in the circle. He made a turn, let go of the throttle, and slowly pulled to the side. He had never paid attention to these things, and he did not want to put them in his eyes.

Without anyone's traction, he casually entered the living room, and Lan Qingchuan was still in the study and did not come down. He had to take off his coat and go upstairs.

She is elegantly furnished, she can smell the faint aroma of grapefruit, and the blanket under her feet is almost dusty. Upstairs to the left is her room and a large study, and the other is an empty room, unfurnished, very poorly soundproofed, only a bed, a window, I don't know what it was used for, he stayed here last time. Now that I think about it, there is no guest room on her side, and the accommodation for him is also temporarily reorganized.

He slowly entered the study, where there were many bookshelves, each of which was full of books, and he glanced at it roughly, and arranged them in various types and languages. There is an orchid hanging in the study, the fragrance is elegant, and a new bunch of narcissus is placed on the coffee table, which is very fresh. Lan Qingchuan sat on the bench by the window, her head slightly sideways, her face solemn and silent, her hair still uncombed, fluffy covering her pale face.

The sound of him coming in made her move slightly, and then he saw her look at him with a pair of calm pale black eyes. When she saw that it was him, she stood up, slender but a little thin, and smiled slightly, "You came early." ”

Han Luochen pulled her chair and sat down, fiddling with a few pens in her sunken wooden pen holder, while asking casually, "How is it, are you still going?" He meant something, Lan Qingchuan estimated that he probably saw her father Fang Yuzhong at the door.

"Of course I went, I said it last time. I'm not a no-shower. She stroked the folds on her coat and opened the window a little more to let in the air.

"What about these documents? Or I'll take it for you and throw it away. He bent his lips and tapped on the thick stack of folders that lay on her desk, and with a swaying smile in his eyes, and feeling that such an expression did not suit him, he narrowed his eyes slightly, and with such a squint, the tails of his eyes were slightly curled, and several extremely beautiful lines were pulled.

She made a rare joke, "I wanted to throw it away when I sent it." ”

Han Luochen went to the living room to wait for her, and the servant brought him a cup of hot milk, the temperature was just right, and it was still steaming. The housekeeper was busy preparing breakfast for her young lady, and the table was rich, both Chinese and Western.

"Don't be busy, pack up and eat on the way. An hour later, the road was blocked, and the city could not get out. He drank milk and spoke lazily, and his tone was not serious, and the butler hesitated for a moment, "But it's not even seven o'clock." ”