Became the white moonlight of the heroine

When Qiao Nian heard Su Xiang's question, she couldn't help being speechless for a moment.

Does it look good?

The answer is undoubtedly good-looking.

Her ankles are thin and slender, as delicate and white as high-quality suet white jade, which attracts attention and at the same time makes people feel envious.

Even want to play with...

Su Xiang just asked casually, but Qiao Nian was stunned, looking at him without saying a word.

She reached out and shook Qiao Nian's eyes: "What are you thinking?"

Qiao Nian blinked her bright eyes lightly, and subconsciously blurted out the words in her heart: "I was thinking about touching your ankle."

As soon as he finished speaking, he heard a burst of pleasant laughter from inside the car, which brought Qiao Nian back to his senses, and at the same time, he clearly realized how frivolous what he just said was.

Her ears were slightly hot, she pursed her lips and said, "I have no other meaning."

Su Xiang smiled unabated: "If you want to know, can I let you touch it at night?"

Qiao Nian's ears became even hotter.

She pursed her lips tightly and didn't answer.

Inexplicably, she always felt that something terrible would happen after she agreed with Su Xiang.

That kind of feeling is weird, and people intuitively avoid it.

Seeing the silent Qiao Nian, Su Xiang was not annoyed, she reached out and poked Qiao Nian's cheek: "Qiao Nian, you can tell me whatever you want in the future."

It would be best if you want to do that with her.

"Oh." Qiao Nian replied hesitantly.

Sensing the light and heavy touch on her face, she patted Su Xiang's hand uncomfortably: "Let's go back quickly."

Su Xiang withdrew his hand and asked her, "Can you stay with me tonight?"

When Qiao Nian heard it, his head began to shake slightly, but before he could say no to it, Su Xiang continued: "Don't you want to eat ice cream, I can make you strawberry molecular ice cream."

"If you want something else, that's fine too."

Qiao Nian stopped shaking his head when he heard it.

She changed her mind and agreed instantly: "Okay."

Back at Su's house, after Qiao Nian and Su Xiang had dinner, Su Xiang went into the kitchen and started making ice cream, while Qiao Nian went back to his room first because he was in a hurry to catch up with the drawing.

Su Xiang stayed in the kitchen for a long time, using many machines to make strawberry molecular ice cream, it will be 10:30.

It's not too late.

She put the strawberry-shaped ice cream on a plate, and then carried it upstairs to find Qiao Nian.

Upstairs, Su Xiang knocked on the door: "Qiao Nian."

No one answered.

Su Xiang frowned, and knocked a few more times. After finding that there was still no answer, he pushed the door open and walked in.

The room was empty, and there was no sign of Qiao Nian, but there was the faint sound of a hair dryer coming from the bathroom.

Su Xiang listened to the movement over there for a while, then put the plate of ice cream on the table, and then walked towards the bathroom.

As soon as he walked to the door of the bathroom, the door of the bathroom was opened from the inside.

Qiao Nian, who was simply wrapped in a bath towel, just ran into Su Xiang's eyes.

Su Xiang's throat rolled slightly, and his red lips were tightly pursed.

Qiao Nian looked at Su Xiang who suddenly appeared at the bathroom door, and asked in surprise, "Why are you here?"

Su Xiang's voice was a little dry: "I didn't hear any movement in the room when I knocked on the door just now, because I was worried about you, so I came in directly."

After finishing the sentence, he added another sentence: "The ice cream is ready, and it will be placed on the small table in your room."

"So fast!" Qiao Nian was overwhelmed with surprise, her brows and eyes slightly curved: "Then I'll go over right away, so as not to melt later."

Su Xiang: "No rush, there is still time."

"It's not too late to go after changing your clothes." After she finished speaking, her eyes suddenly settled on the small mole on Qiao Nian's right shoulder.

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The author has something to say:

Short guy again, more tomorrow or Monday night.