The green camphor tree has a deep view

Wen Qing followed his gaze and looked to the side. Her heart, which had finally calmed down, began beating wildly again.

It was a heavy Chinese-style wardrobe with intricate carvings and a shiny red-brown body. It had an antique feel and was inconsistent with the style of the entire room. It also didn't quite fit in with Song Jingshen's aesthetic taste. It seemed like someone had forcibly added it in after all the soft furnishings were completed.

Last night, she just took a curious look at the cabinet, and he pushed her hard against the cabinet door.

"Pay attention to me!" His voice was low and cold, but his body was as hot as a red flame, and his movements were violent and wild. He attacked the city and captured the stronghold one after another.

Wen Qing was tossed over and over by him, and her sweat soon soaked the cabinet door behind her.

She cried and begged him, her fingers tightly gripping the carvings, enduring wave after wave of impact, like a mermaid hit by the waves on a reef, sweating and panting.

"Why don't you open the door and take a look?" He threw down the ice in his hand, walked slowly to the cabinet door, and seeing her expression changing, he couldn't help but curl the corners of his lips.

"This cabinet suits you very well." His voice became hoarse unconsciously, "Especially at that time, it can make you look more vivid."

Wen Qing's face turned red like a cooked tomato, and she forced out the following words: "Stop talking." As she spoke, she stepped forward and opened the cabinet door, intentionally blocking him on the other side.

As soon as the door opened, Wen Qing was stunned. The closet was full of women's clothes, brand new brand-name goods with the tags still on, including skirts, sports jackets, jeans... everything you could think of.

Opening the drawer, there are sets of pajamas and underwear inside, mostly made of cotton, linen and silk. They look of good quality, but the style is a bit exaggerated.

Wen Qing looked at the delicate lace suspenders and couldn't help blushing again.

"They are all your size." Song Jingshen leaned on the cabinet door and leisurely admired her shy expression.

Wen Qing picked out a set of clothes from the closet, looked at him seriously and said: "Thank you for preparing so many for me, but I can't wear so many. Just borrowing this set is enough. I will return it to you later."

"What do you want to give me back?" Song Jingshen had expected her to do this, so he didn't show much anger, but his unhappy expression was still obvious.

"If you really want to repay me something, just come here with me more often. Otherwise, these clothes will be wasted. Don't you hate waste the most?" He stroked her soft cheek, feeling unsatisfied.

Wen Qing avoided his hand, picked up her clothes and went to the bathroom. Song Jingshen looked at her slender back, smiled thoughtfully, and turned to the living room.

Soon the sound of water dripping could be heard from the bathroom, making the living room exceptionally quiet.

Song Jingshen was slumped in the sofa, playing with Wen Qing's cell phone in his hand.

He put it in his coat pocket last night, and while she was asleep, he unlocked it with her fingerprint. From then on, her phone was completely in his pocket.

Her life was really simple, so simple to the point of being boring. She didn't look like a beautiful girl in her prime, but more like an ascetic monk.

The address book only has classmates, teachers, and a few family members I keep in touch with. The photo album contains only a few selfies at the school gate and the occasional campus food.

Seeing her enthusiastically taking photos of the hot and sour noodles and spicy hot pot, Song Jingshen couldn't help but frown: What does she usually eat? She ate a snack that cost less than 20 yuan, and she had to take photos as a souvenir.

In addition to street food, there are many photos of Jing Long in the album. Jing Long eating, running, sleeping... There are also photos of Jing Long lying in her arms, with a sweet smile on her face, which makes him feel blinded.

She had never smiled at him like that before.

In addition to the photo album, he also looked through WeChat. Several boys approached her, but she rejected them with just a few words.

She seems to be very good at rejecting others without hurting anyone's feelings and achieving her goal. The key is that it doesn't take up a large amount of time.

Song Jingshen was very satisfied with this, but he also learned from another perspective how difficult it was to pursue this girl. If he didn't resort to tricks and pursued her silently and conventionally like others, he didn't know how long it would take to catch her.

After reading the WeChat message, he carefully browsed through the few selfies of her in the album, selected the best one, and set it as the desktop wallpaper.

He slowly ran his finger over the girl in the photo. She was standing at the entrance of F University, smiling at the camera. She had a delicate and upturned nose, and her eyebrows were as beautiful as flowers. She was wearing a light green T-shirt commemorating the school anniversary, which made her look elegant and fresh. The more he looked at her, the more comfortable he felt.

Song Jingshen has always been confident in his aesthetic taste for women, but what he shows is very different from his real thoughts.

As the "eldest son" of the much-watched Song Group, he was well aware that his preferences could easily be magnified by the media. Therefore, he deliberately made friends with some bright-looking young models and small stars.

In his opinion, those women all looked similar and had similar styles of doing things. They just came and went like a revolving door, just to create some scandals so that people wouldn't suspect he was gay.

This is not groundless. Long before he went abroad to study, rumors about his sexual orientation had been circulating, sparking heated discussions on a certain group website.

It is said that when those websites were selecting "your most desired lover", Song Jingshen was once on the list and ranked quite high. This attracted a lot of ridicule from his buddies, and Fang Ziming was the one who laughed the loudest.

It was also from that time that Fang Ziming played the ignominious role of a pimp, intentionally or unintentionally bringing him into the entertainment industry, under the pretext of expanding the Song family's investment areas, but in fact introducing beauties under the guise of official business.

Those women passed lightly in Song Jingshen's mind. Since they knew each other's purpose, they got along with each other very smoothly and clearly.

He never brought them into his territory, and dates were only held together with travel and business trips. When staying in hotels or B&Bs, he always booked two rooms so that he could leave at any time to be alone and handle official business.

Women are mostly emotional creatures. If you give them a relationship, they want his heart. If you give them a night of pleasure, they want him to stay with them forever.

But he didn't believe in long-term relationships, so how could he give to others? Therefore, he would always send his female companions away as soon as possible while there was still room for maneuver, and before they left, he would give them a few bags and jewelry, and say a few nice words to make them cry, and the matter would be settled.

After a while, Song Jingshen's reputation was established in the circle. His preferences for women were very similar to those of the general public. From small internet celebrities who had plastic surgery to small stars on the 18th line, as long as they had beautiful eyebrows and eyes, they could become his guests.

Although the development stage of the relationship is always confusing, there are many women around Mr. Song, and they never entangle with each other, nor are there any cliché dramas such as jealousy or pregnancy before marriage.

A man who can take it or leave it, and is willing to spend money on women, is not only easy to be accepted, but sometimes even popular. However, over time, the playboy hat is firmly on his head.

Song Jingshen sighed, and suddenly felt a little regretful. The persona he had carefully created back then had now become a problem for him to pursue Wen Qing.

Looking at Wen Qing on the phone screen, he wished he could tear her head open and delete all the rumors about him.

The sound of water in the bathroom stopped, replaced by the sound of wind blowing hair.

Wen Qing stood in front of the mirror wrapped in a bath towel, bending sideways to blow her hair. The ends of her hair brushed against her fair neck, revealing a shameful light red and dark purple.

She blushed and looked away, only looking at the long black hair hanging by her side.

Her black hair was slightly wet and scattered like a waterfall. She put one hand into the roots of her hair and shook it gently. She held the hair dryer with the other hand, changing the angle from time to time. After a while, her hands felt sore.

Just as she was about to change hands, the hair dryer was taken from behind. Then, a big hand held up the ends of her hair and started blowing it from top to bottom.

"No need..." Realizing who was serving her, she immediately turned around to take the hair dryer back.

But her shoulders were pressed against his chest, unable to move. After a while, his kisses fell on the ends of her hair, her shoulders, and then moved up to trap her lips.

The hair dryer was thrown on the sink, still humming and releasing meaningless hot air.

Wen Qing felt as if the hot wind had blown into her lungs, making her face hot and her chest stuffy, as if there was a fire in the stove.

"Hmm..." Wen Qing put her arm on his chest and took the opportunity to take a breath to remind him softly, "It's time to go..."

"You should wear a turtleneck later." He glanced at her neck with a deep look in his eyes.

Wen Qing nodded obediently. Even if he didn't say it, she would cover it up.

The man untied her bathrobe and looked her over from all angles, as if he was inspecting his territory.

On her chest, shoulders, chest and back... marks of varying shades were everywhere. Her skin was thin and tender, like a delicate flower that would burst into water if pinched, and would darken if rubbed.

"I was wrong this time, I won't do it again."

He gently wrapped her in a bathrobe, held her in his arms and rubbed her, "Just follow me steadily, I really like you."