Fickle CEO

"The doctor said it was a high fever caused by inflammation, and asked her that she was injured on her face, so why didn't she bandage it?" Gu ziyao came from the other end of the corridor, frowned and handed the receipt to Mu Yanchen. "Fortunately, it's back now."

Move the mobile phone from the ear, mu Yanchen's eye light swept a glance at the list, did not answer.

"I'll go to the company," he said in a low voice. "I'll pick her up when she wakes up."

Turning his eyes, his long leg was just about to cross Gu ziyao's way to the elevator next to the corridor, but he was stopped for a moment. When he lifted his eyes, he saw that Gu ziyao's face was slightly embarrassed. With a smile, he lifted his chin toward the ward, and mu Yanchen stopped. Then he scanned the ward with deep and indifferent eyes and saw that the people on the hospital bed had woken up. At the moment, he was looking at them with black and clear eyes.

His eyes drooped, his aura filled with air, and he said to Gu ziyao in a deep voice, "wait a minute."

From afar, I saw the tall and straight figure walking slowly. Lanxi covered his forehead with his hands, his face was slightly hot, and he felt a little dizzy. He felt that he was still burning.

"Is it still hard?" He leaned over, his arms propped up on the bed, and asked indifferently.

"Well." She found herself hoarse.

He nodded, "then take a rest."

"Did you send me?"

He paused and slightly wrung his eyebrows: "your father is not in good health and is not suitable for going out. I will send you over on the way."

Lanxi's long eyelashes drooped, and she didn't want to think about the truth or falsehood in his words, but she had already seen clearly that since Mo Ruqing entered the door of Mu's family, Mu Lanxi had long lost its status, whether in her father's heart or in that big mansion.

"Oh." Her eyes were clear and indifferent.

It seems that everything has been explained, and muyanchen's upright figure is about to get up.

A soft hand, but suddenly climbed up his cuff, with a sense of panic but sincere flavor, down his silk shirt, holding the wrist in the air, the cool temperature wrapped him delicately.

Mu Yanchen's body shape is a meal.

Lanxi's face was burning red, and her hands were sweating. However, she bit her lips and held him stubbornly. Fortunately, he kept such a posture. She waited until she had passed her breath before trying to muster up her courage to lift her eyes. She whispered softly, "Mu Yanchen Thank you

Thank you.

When I feel that the whole world dislikes me and is cold to me, it gives me a strange but ironed warmth.

Her long eyelashes trembled like butterfly wings. The red on her face faded. Her teeth bit her lower lip: "before me I don't like you, but I just don't like your mother. It has nothing to do with you. "

"Don't blame me, will you?"

"You're still good, even if I'm good for me. I won't call your brother because I haven't called before. It's strange. In the future, I will try to change my mouth. Is this OK? "

She said to lift eyes, clear water eyes inside, there is no cover to reveal the desire for warmth and kindness.

Like a small and clear mussel, quietly open defense, toward him revealed the softest part.

The hand on the wrist was soft and tight.

Mu Yanchen a pair of deep and indifferent eyes on her eyes, an instant as if there is a current from the heart to the four limbs, his eyes covered with a cold, thin lips also cold pursed, as if to maintain a trace of soberness, in order to melt people so quickly in her eyes still have some sense.