Before Los Angeles returned to Luo's house, it was still early. He looked at the closed door of Luo's house in a daze, and suddenly felt a little timid. He knew that there was still a woman living here, a woman he had suddenly married home on a whim.

He leaned against the door and lit a cigarette, the smoke clouding his dark eyes like midnight.

It wasn't until he finished smoking a cigarette that the sky suddenly began to drizzle, and he pushed the door open.

Through the misty drizzle, he saw the woman dozing off on a wooden bench. She looked tired, there was a tiredness under the corners of her eyes, and the corners of her lips drooped slightly, as if she was having a nightmare.

The rain mist circled a thin layer of light in her hair, down her crescent-like brow, down to her tiny nose, and the woman was as quiet as an elf coming out of a painting, and he couldn't take his eyes off it.

The previous noise and noise was calmed down because of her, and he just wanted to pick her up, but the woman opened her sleepy eyes at this time.

Gong Ji thought she was dreaming, and stared blankly at the male face that was close to her. There was a faint smell of smoke on him, and there was a feminine scent that seemed to be absent......

There were drops of rain on her face, cold and cold, all the way to her heart.

She staggered a step, looked at the misty and rainy world, and said in a dumb voice: "Heaven is not beautiful, as soon as you go home, it will rain." ”

I want to see each other when I can't see him, and even what kind of line to say when I want to see this man again will make the atmosphere more relaxed. Qiē's assumptions became meaningless, and she would rather he not come back, so that she still had a hope and a thought.

Seeing that the rain was getting heavier and heavier, Luo Cheng unconsciously cooled his voice: "Do you know that I am going home, and I will show me a bitter trick early in the morning? Let me guess, it was Secretary Li who ventilated you, right?"

With that, he turned around and entered the room without looking back.

Gong Ji stood in the rain in a daze, and still couldn't figure out why a man could never look back when he was ruthless.

L.A. didn't even pay attention to whether she was following or worried about whether she would catch a cold.

Gong Ji remembered what Tang Shaobai had said to her. If the whole world abandons her, she must love herself a little more. She thought it made sense.

She slowly walked back to the living room and went into the bathroom to change into a dry dress.

When I got out of the bathroom, I saw Luo Cheng standing at the door smoking. The smoke clouded his indifferent face, his stiff chin, and the moment she came out, a puff of smoke from Los Angeles suddenly spat on her face.

Gong Ji frowned slightly, then hid back in the bathroom, covered her mouth forcibly, endured the nausea, and did not retch. It wasn't until the churning breath in her body returned to calm down that she armed her facial expression and left the bathroom.

Luo Cheng, who was sitting on the sofa, beckoned to Gong Ji: "Palace reporter, come here!"

Gong Ji hesitated for a moment, but walked over. She was standing in front of L.A. when L.A. suddenly pulled her hard, and she was forced to sit on L.A.'s lap. Too close to his face, the smell of smoke and the scent of women on his body made her face pale, and nausea welled up in her chest again.

She struggled down L.A. thighs, ran out of the living room, and rushed into the rain.

The fresh air outside shook her spirits, and the vomiting sensation she felt just now was forced back one by one.

Her tolerance is too average, and there are some things that she can't pretend not to care about. There are some things that can never be returned, and these things, is she still reluctant?