this summer

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She has always been lazy and lazy, and she doesn't often find reasons for herself when doing things, so that she may not remember why she did it in the first place after finishing many things.

When I was young, it was because I was crazy, and I didn't pay attention to anything. Now it's because I have nothing to worry about.

The author has something to say:

诱拐未成年的不良jian商宋老板:我看你骨骼清奇，要不要来我的乐队做吉他手？感谢在2020-03-09 23:16:08~2020-03-11 10:33:31期间为我投出霸王票或灌溉营养液的小天使哦~

Thanks to the little angel of the irrigation nutrient solution: 4 bottles of awsl; 1 bottle of Liyuan;

Thank you very much for your support, I will continue to work hard!

Chapter 23 There are beauties

Not long after, Tan Chen prepared the meal.The three of them had dinner together in the restaurant on the third floor, and Tan Chen went downstairs to guard the shop.

"Are you on vacation today?" Song Han asked with a satisfied expression while leaning on the back of the chair.

"Just finished the exam in the morning, let's take it for a long time." Jing Fan was used to eating only [-]% full, but he was infected by Song Han's lazy look, and leaned back.

"Is there any arrangement?" She never came here to look after the shop for her.

This stopped Jing Fan, she just wanted to find a place with people to stay, He Cheng has been very busy recently, it was really boring for her to stay alone in the rental house.

"Do the test paper." After thinking about it, let's continue to study the design of the gods.

Song Han smiled lightly upon hearing this.Ran all the way to the bar to make papers?

"It's really hard work." She stood up with the edge of the table, "there is no place to write papers in the living room, follow me to the study?"

"Okay." Jing Fan agreed casually, but didn't see the malicious smile on the corner of Song Han's mouth.

Following Song Han upstairs, Jing Fan was shocked when he opened the study door.This is really the same as the style of Boss Song's bedroom.

The study room faces the sun and is very bright. The summer weather is long, and as the evening approaches, the sunlight falls on the wooden floor like gold.

The desk by the window is very large, but there is almost no room for a complete volume on it, it is full of papers and books, the computer is placed on a pile of drafts in an extremely difficult posture, and a beer is precariously placed next to it Can.

Song Han walked to the table, picked up the computer and picked up the can, and stretched out his arms boldly to free up half of the table, then waved his hand, "Sit."

Jing Fan looked at the unique table, and the corner of his mouth twitched unnaturally.But out of politeness, she couldn't regret going downstairs now, so she could only lift her legs and walk over.

Song Han pulled the chair away for her very gentlemanly.Then he dragged another one from the side and sat down beside Jing Fan.

Not so particular about himself, Song Han put the computer in his arms on the pile of papers, and with a flick of his wrist, the beer can drew an arc in the air, and dropped it precisely into the trash can next to it.

When Jing Fan turned his head to look, he saw Song Han with Erlang's legs crossed, holding a pen in one hand and pulling out a half-written piece of paper from under the computer with the other, keeping his chest half a meter away from the edge of the table, and his shoulders an arm's distance away from the paper, and began to write. Write and draw.

"Can you see what you wrote?" Jing Fan twitched his lips, thinking of the handwriting on the score that was mistakenly handed to him before, and felt that the mystery of the century had finally been solved.

"What I write is not words," Song Han raised his eyebrows at her, and the pencil twirled twice between his fingers, and the tip of the pen landed on the paper to draw an indistinguishable character. "It's thoughts."

Jing Fan: "..."

Just ignoring her, Jing Fan took out a physics paper from his schoolbag, lay down on the desktop where he had finally seen the light of day, and began to brush.

She has practiced this type of question in the second semester of her sophomore year of high school. Except for the troublesome calculations, the other steps basically don't require any thinking.

There is no rule that she must keep quiet when she is doing the questions. When Song Han asked her if she would disturb her, she said it was okay, but when she just wrote the fourth big question, her train of thought was disturbed by a melody from the side .

Song Han is arranging music, and the melody is transmitted from her computer.

Jing Fan stopped writing and looked over, and saw Song Han frowning tightly, looking rather embarrassed.

She had given up the rebellious sitting posture she had been in ten minutes ago, and sat a little closer, with her left hand propped on the table.The black hair was hastily pulled into a bun by her, and a few strands of hair fell down and hung around her ears. They were dyed golden by the sunset glow, and the slightly sharp jawline was slightly modified by it, making it look less rigid. Jing Fan lost his senses for a moment.

Song Han is wearing a black casual jacket today, the sleeves are rolled up to reveal a section of his forearm, and his right hand is twirling the pencil restlessly.

A piece of melody was played repeatedly, thinking back and forth, and the person in front of the computer hissed from time to time, unable to hide his irritability.

"At the place where it just stopped, the guitar is not in the right tune." Jing Fan said.

Song Han was secretly happy, thinking that she finally got the bait, she played it over and over ten times, Xueshen was really focused.She still pretended to be irritated that the problem was unsolved, and turned her head impatiently, "Huh?"

Jing Fan knew what was wrong, but how could he tell her clearly with just a single mouth. Seeing a guitar next to him, he picked it up, tried the sound, and played the melody just now without any mistakes. .

The second play stopped at the place where I said there was a problem, "The rotation here is a bit stiff." He said and started again from the beginning.