perfect life

The next morning, He Zihan stepped on the class bell as usual and entered the classroom door.

There was suddenly a person on the right side of the desk where I was sitting alone.

He Zihan glanced at that person, and found that that person was the one from yesterday, what was his name?

"Hello, I'm Chen Qiran. I'm transferred today. Please give me more advice in the future." As he said, Chen Qiran stretched out his hand.

He Zihan looked at the pair of slender and well-proportioned hands in front of him, they could be called beautiful.

The knuckles of the fingers are long, the skin is fair, and there is not a single callus, not even the calluses that often appear on the right middle finger of ordinary students and are worn out due to years of writing.

Clean, such a beautiful and slender hand.

He Zihan's hands, which were originally stuffed in the pockets of his school uniform pants, suddenly tightened for some reason.

Stiffly, he walked to his seat and sat down——he ignored Chen Qiran's outstretched hand.

He Zihan felt that this Chen Qiran was a bit annoying, but he couldn't tell what exactly made him not like him, so he could only pretend to be cold and ignorant of him.

Chen Qiran seemed to be prepared for He Zihan's indifference. Seeing that he ignored him, he withdrew his hand, obediently sat back in his seat, opened the English textbook, and continued to recite vocabulary.