What celebrity wives hate is my vest and not me

Chapter 117 The Foreshadowing of a Song

The next day, when Qin Feng woke up, he moved a little, and the girl's humming and moaning came from his ears.

He suddenly turned over and sat up, only to notice that his arm was pressing on Wang Anruo's hair, the latter moved his neck and was pulled, and opened his hazy eyes.

"You're awake." Qin Feng said apologetically, "Did it hurt you?"

Wang Anruo shrank down, pulled the quilt to cover her cheeks, only showing a pair of eyes, shook her head and nodded again.

"The hair doesn't hurt," she said with a blushing face, "but only the hair doesn't hurt."

One sentence made Qin Feng feel a little embarrassed, and he didn't know what to say.

Even a man who is more comfortable among women is shy in front of a woman he really likes, like a willow bud in early spring.

The key to Qin Feng's ability to stay out of the circle of celebrities in Guanhai City for several years is not to distract himself.

Whether it's a man or a woman, it's always easy to face those who don't like it and stick it to themselves.

As long as we can overcome the hurdle of conscience,
"I'll make you breakfast." He got up and dressed, and went to the kitchen in desperation.

Wang Anruo looked at his fleeing back with a chuckle and found it interesting. When has he ever seen Qin Feng, who is stable in everything, look like this?

With poems and books in his belly when chatting, and handy when working, Wang Anruo supported his head with his hands, listening to the kissing sound of kitchen knives and chopping boards in the kitchen, thinking how many other appearances of this man he had never seen before.
She is in no hurry.

There are decades to slowly explore.

It just so happened that Qin Feng also had the same meaning.

"Are you used to porridge?"

Qin Feng peeled an egg and put it in front of Wang Anruo.

"Well, it's much better than the ones bought outside." Wang Anruo gently blew on the hot porridge and sipped it, like a kitten afraid of getting hot: "It's better than the breakfast shop under the big willow tree."

She was talking about the breakfast shop on the way to school when she was a child. The couple were both in their forties and cooked breakfast for the passing children.

She told Qin Feng about it when she was a child, saying that it was the most delicious breakfast in her memory, and it tasted like childhood.

"We have a holiday the day after tomorrow, and I'll go back to Jiangcheng that day." Qin Feng said: "When you come to Jiangcheng to play enough, the holiday is over, and I will talk to Uncle Wang about marriage when I go to your house."

This matter came out of Qin Feng's mouth casually like deciding what to eat in the morning, whether to take the bus or the subway when going out.

And Wang Anruo just nodded slightly, hummed, and still drank the porridge with his head down.

It seems random, but they all know that life is alive, which is inevitable.

Some people are open-minded and willing to enjoy life; some people are reluctant, just to deal with their parents.

And more, like Qin Feng and Wang Anruo, met people who were willing to grow old together.

One of them passed their 26th birthday and the other turned 27 last night.

Talking about marriage is already a certainty, not to mention they don't hate it.

"I'm going back to my hometown in the south of the Yangtze River today." Wang Anruo suddenly seemed to think of something, his eyes fluttered: "I will be very busy in the future, and I will rarely go home to see my grandfather, so I have to go back and see him... You have to know that my dad doesn't count on some things, and you have to see him sooner or later."

Wang Anruo's grandfather.

Qin Feng has conceived of this person countless times in his mind. He supported Wang Anruo's childhood, raised three heirs of Uncle Wang, and he has the majesty of a general.

He lowered his head and took an egg, and with just a light pinch, the shell cracked open.

Some things are like this eggshell. After breaking, is it a sticky egg liquid or a refreshing boiled egg?
Qin Feng stayed in the Qingshan community until noon, and made lunch for Wang Anruo before leaving after she took a nap.

He finally drove the Hongqi H9 back to his rental house. Wang Anruo said it was a birthday present for him.

Putting the car at Uncle Wang's place is also a situation where it is parked downstairs to eat ashes. It is better to drive it first and send it for maintenance on time than to park it all the time.

"It's a bit ostentatious to drive to work."

Standing by the bedroom window, Qin Feng looked at the puzzled expressions of the neighbors downstairs who stopped in front of the car as they passed by, thinking that it would be better to drive on weekends to date Wang Anruo.

"You can drive back to Jiangcheng during the [-]th holiday. Just find a parking lot in Jiangcheng and park there. You don't have to drive home." Qin Feng made a plan in his heart: "If An Ruo really wants to come, I can't take her by bus. Playing in Jiangcheng."

After a pause, he smiled and closed the curtains, "I think An Ruo is afraid that her identity will be exposed. No wonder she always wore a mask before. I thought it was because she had a strong sense of protection."

The light was blocked by curtains, and the bedroom fell into darkness.

He turned on the lamp by the bedside, and a little fluorescent light looked like a scholar studying at night in a temple rushing for an exam.

Coupled with the writing brush he took out with a flip of his hand, it is even more of that artistic conception.

It's just that this brush is obviously not for writing.

"Maybe I can use this thing to help An Ruo." Qin Feng looked at the system props in his hand: "If you substitute those famous lyricists, and use their lyric writing ability to match your own writing and thinking ability, it should be possible. "

After thinking about it, he turned on the computer, searched for the top lyricists in the current Chinese music scene, carefully analyzed their styles, and then picked one that matched Fang Nianwei.

[Recite his name silently and imagine his appearance in his heart, then he can think what he thinks and see what he sees. 】

Holding the brush in his hand, Qin Feng slowly closed his eyes.

Taking a few deep breaths, he stood motionless in the room, as if in trance.

After a few minutes like this, he suddenly raised his eyebrows, then frowned tightly, slowly raised his hand, and wrote the first stroke in mid-air with the brush.

A miraculous scene happened, the place where the brush stroked in mid-air left bright blue ink marks, and then Qin Feng kept on writing, the speed of writing accelerated, as if he had adapted to something, the writing was no longer sour, it became smoother and smoother .

After a while, the air in the room was covered with blue handwriting wherever Qin Feng could go. A few words can be vaguely seen as lyrics, but they are not very coherent, and the style is constantly changing.

It was as if two people were discussing literature together, and finally slowly formed a unity.

Qin Feng stopped writing, opened his eyes and looked at the surrounding text, and his eyes became clear and bright.

"After the substitution, I will know, no matter what industry, how far a newcomer is from a top professional."

He looked at the writing brush in his hand, the corners of his mouth slightly raised, and there was already a book in his chest.

The three shiny lines on the barrel of the pen are dimmed, indicating that the number of times of use is one less.

Qin Feng flipped his hand and put the brush back into the system backpack, and the surrounding text turned into a stream of light and entered Qin Feng's forehead.

He seized the time to be in front of the computer, created a new document, and began to compose a song for Wang Anruo that perfectly suited her.

"I hope I can help you during the game." Qin Feng murmured to himself, fingers flying on the keyboard, as if he was writing a novel, and came to his home court.

(End of this chapter)