YM778.TV Chapter 119: 047 Director Jian doesn’t care about his master’s post (second update)_2
Chapter 119: 047 Director Jian doesn’t care about his master’s post (second update)_2
Ren Wanxuan’s smile froze; she looked up, incredulously at Chen Zhu.
Chen Zhu, however, did not look at her. “Bai Lian’s program was originally a sword dance, Chen Wei asked me to go back and fetch the Longsword, but Wanxuan did not inform me of this. The Longsword went missing unexpectedly, which is why Bai Lian ended up playing the zither instead.”
“You…” Ren Wanxuan pursed her lips.
She did not know why Chen Zhu, who had always stood by her side, was suddenly turning against her.
Chen Gang hadn’t expected Chen Wei to be involved in this matter either, and his expression turned cold as well.
“Wanxuan!” Ren Qian rebuked loudly, looking at her, “You’ll come with me to apologize to Bai Lian tomorrow.”
Ren Wanxuan’s mouth fell open.
At Ren Qian’s side, the secretary-general discreetly shook his head at Ren Wanxuan.
Ren Wanxuan took a deep breath, holding back, her nails almost digging into her palms, she lowered her head, “I understand, Grandpa.”
Jiang Fulai didn’t get home until almost one in the morning.
Jiang He’s mood had improved quite a bit.
Sitting on the living room carpet playing with blocks, the empty house filled only with the slight clinking noises of the blocks; it was very quiet.
Jiang Fulai lowered his eyes, unhurriedly unbuttoning his coat while opening a picture Bai Lian had sent him—a chemical question.
He glanced at it and hung his black coat properly.
As he passed by Jiang He, he paused.
Jiang He was sitting cross-legged by the blocks, attentively arranging them, with a piece of white paper by his feet—
On the paper was a lazily sprawled cat.
Jiang Fulai squatted down, his fair and slender fingers picking up the paper.
Jiang He, who had been focusing on the blocks, suddenly looked up at Jiang Fulai.
Jiang Fulai stood up, and despite not having rested much during the day, he didn’t show any signs of fatigue, his noble features still exuded an innate gracefulness.
In front of Jiang He, he casually folded the paper.
Then slipped it into his pocket.
Jiang He stood up.
Jiang Fulai glanced at him with a rather good mood, his presence dominating from a higher position, he spoke with gentlemanly grace, “It’s one o’clock already, if you don’t sleep, you might not grow as tall as your Sister Bai.”
On the side, Ming Dongheng, who had seen it all,
Jiang He watched Jiang Fulai go upstairs.
Then he looked down.
He tapped on the watch that had been returned after being lost and selected an icon of an ancient tower—
Illiterate:[,]
Illiterate:[,]
Illiterate:[,]
The high school senior who had just finished showering and was preparing for bed was hit by a barrage of vibrations.
And they didn’t stop.
Bai Lian set down her hairdryer.
She glanced at the frenzied Jiang He, reached out to click on someone else’s WeChat, and immediately sent out a video call while she picked up a vocabulary book with one hand.
She never wasted any time.
On the other end of the phone, Jiang Fulai, who had just gone to the study to pick up a pen and paper, paused at the sight of the video invitation, adjusted the angle slightly before extending a finger to tap the green button.
“Ah, where’s Jiang He? Hand the phone to him.” The girl on the other end spoke lazily, leaning against the window, studying her vocabulary.
She said just the one line in a languid tone.
There was no response for a while.
Bai Lian couldn’t help but look up.
She had just taken a bath, lounging leisurely against the window.
Dressed in a snow-white long-sleeved silk pajama set, her half-wet ink-black hair not tied up as usual, cascading behind her head and on the windowsill, a banyan tree from the courtyard in the background, and the moonlight shining down, casting her profile in an especially dazzling light.
A faint red flushed at the corner of her eyes, strikingly beautiful.
The long hair unfurled added another kind of scenery to the view; Jiang Fulai thought lightly that wooden hairpins weren’t bad.
He should send her a few more.
“He’s downstairs,” Jiang Fulai withdrew his gaze, lifting his long legs to go downstairs in search of Jiang He, his tone quite light, “What happened?”
Bai Lian continued studying a word, very casually, “Ask him what the heck he’s doing.”
“He does need a lesson,” Jiang Fulai said, one hand in his pocket, quickening his step slightly.
Returning downstairs, he handed his phone to Jiang He, who was poking at his watch, his gaze contained.
Shadows enveloped him from above.
Like a chill descending.
Jiang He didn’t even need to look up to know who it was.
He ignored the other person.
“Xiaoniao,” on the phone, Bai Lian drawled, “Try sending me another comma, why don’t you?”
Jiang He’s small fingers stalled mid-air.
He looked up, his round eyes meeting Bai Lian’s dark almond-shaped eyes.
Jiang Fulai looked at him nonchalantly, “Hold on to it, go upstairs to bed.”
Jiang He carried the phone upstairs.
Jiang Fulai watched Jiang He with cold eyes as he took the phone to his small room and then went to take a bath.
When everything was settled, it was already past two.
He gently pushed open Jiang He’s bedroom door; Jiang He was asleep, with the phone upside down on his chest, only the sound of Jiang He’s long breathing filled the room.