Chapter 45 It’s worth more than my life
In the villa, several spotlights were turned on. The room was neither bright nor dark. A gauze curtain was pulled in front of the floor-to-ceiling window in the living room to block the outside view.
Ji Mingzong's brown slippers were placed in the entrance hall. One glance showed that someone had arranged everything in advance and was ready for him to return home.
The man changed his shoes directly, opened the shoe cabinet on the side and placed Ji Lan's slippers at her feet, showing his master's politeness and easy-going.
"Is there anyone in Mr. Ming's family who takes care of everything?" Ji Lan asked insinuatingly.
"What do you want to ask?" Ji Mingzong glanced at her calmly: "Is there a woman?"
Ji Lan remained silent, forbearing suspicion required some emotion to do such a thing. She had not yet reached that point with the man in front of her, and followed Ji Mingzong's footsteps towards the house.
When he reached the door of the guest room on the first floor, the man stretched out his hand to open the door and asked abruptly: "Does it matter if the cat is female?"
Ji Lan:.
The door opened, and a feather duster ran out brightly, meowing, rubbing against Ji Mingzong's suit pants and spreading his feet.
The man took a step back, reached out and touched the cat's head: "Say hello."
256 looked up at Ji Lan as if he understood human speech, and meowed in his throat.
Ji Lan thought to herself that the owner is smart and the cat has become a spirit.
"Touch?"
"I don't dare," Ji Lan stood still: "It's worth more than my life."
Ji Mingzong suppressed a smile and glanced at her.
256 walked up to Ji Lan and swept her ankle with his big tail, tickling her. Ji Lan stamped her feet to avoid it.
Mr. Ji asked: "Don't like cats?"
"No," Ji Lan said bluntly, "I can't afford to pay for it losing a hair."
Ji Mingzong laughed out loud, walked to the western kitchen and poured a glass of water. He leaned against the bar and watched Ji Lan entangled with the cat.
She hides.
Cat chase.
A posture of not giving up until he gets started.
He had never imagined such a scene, but when it suddenly happened, he inexplicably felt that it would be nice to have an extra person at home.
Having lived abroad for more than ten years, the people around me are either classmates or subordinates, and there are no people who are particularly close to me.
"Sir," Yan Hui's appearance interrupted the beautiful moment.
From a distance, I couldn't see Mr. Ji's slightly cold frown.
"The trunk cannot fit the gifts from our partners," Yan Hui stood at the door carrying large and small bags of things, with four or five bodyguards behind him to help.
Ji Mingzong was kind and raised his chin slightly: "Send it in."
Five or six people carried the things several times before delivering them to the room on the first floor.
Ji Lan has lived in Ji's family for twenty years, so he naturally knows that people like them who have social needs on various occasions have all kinds of gifts at home. They are beautifully packaged and the items are luxurious. They are either given to him by others or given by others. He gave it to others.
Deng Yi is taking care of these things in the Ji family, and no one else can get involved.
And Yan Hui was obviously doing this for Ji Mingzong.
"What are you thinking about?" Ji Mingzong interrupted her thoughts. Seeing that Ji Lan didn't bend down or stretch out her hand, she saw the cat jumping up and pulling at it, but she didn't mean to touch it: "Pet it and it won't pester you."
"So clingy?" Ji Lan was not used to it: "Do you men like this kind of clingy little goblin?"
Ji Mingzong:
"Ji Lan," Ji Mingzong put down the cup in his hand gently: "The mouth is worthless, so sewing it up seems to be a good choice, what do you think?"
Ji Lan remained silent.
The man walked to the room on the first floor that was dedicated to storing gifts. When he came out, he found a wooden box in his hand. It was five stories high and had exquisite patterns carved on the outside. It looked valuable.
Ji Mingzong placed the box on the coffee table and motioned to Ji Lan to come over: "Open it and take a look." Ji Lan opened the top lid and saw a set of white glazed tea cups, crystal clear and exquisite.
"Bought it?" Ji Lan was curious.
"You can't buy it." Ji Mingzong took off his suit jacket and threw it on the sofa. While pulling on his tie, he introduced to Jilan: "A friend rented a private kiln in Jingdezhen and asked a master to bake it."
Ji Lan turned the cup over and looked at the bottom of the cup. Sure enough, it was pure white with nothing on it. If there were some special marks on the outside, it would be there.
She put down the tea cup and asked tentatively: "Mr. Ming's friend's surname is Chen?"
Except for Zhao Jiahuai, she didn't know anyone in the teahouse tonight.
However, when leaving, Yanzhuang mentioned why Chen Songyang was here.
The sudden inquiry was just to test him.
"Who?" Ji Mingzong's tone was normal, his calm eyes and his unclear look gave people the feeling that he didn't know Chen Songyang: "Where are you standing?"
"To your right."
"If someone else brings it, it doesn't count as acquaintance."
Ji Mingzong sat on the sofa and looked at her, his fingertips tapping on his knees intentionally or unintentionally. When his eyes fell on Ji Lan, they were like fire.
A person with a higher status than others has a bit of domineering nature. Whether she loves her or not is secondary. Seeing her standing with other men is somewhat uncomfortable.
Coupled with Chen Songyang's words, "Love is deep and righteousness is deep," the seeds of discomfort in my heart were already planted.
He is not lusty and never indulges in indulgence.
Being able to reach where he is today is indispensable to his self-discipline that has been imprinted in his bones for many years.
"Mr. Ming." Ji Lan was stared at so much that he felt like a cheetah's meal, being stared at before his death.
However, Ji Mingzong leaned lazily on the sofa, tired and possessive.
Just when she was about to say something, Ji Mingzong's generous palm grabbed her wrist, turned her around, and imprisoned her between the sofas. He kissed her passionately, leaving her with nowhere to escape.
A fiery body was wrapped under the white shirt, looking sanctimonious like a forbearing and restrained hypocrite.
The weariness ripped open, revealing his true nature, leaving her with nowhere to escape.
When it finally came to pass, she dodged and said, "I don't like being on the sofa."
The man's words were concise and concise, leaving no room for criticism. He was so strong and domineering that she didn't give her any chance to struggle: "Be obedient, right here."
"What are you doing here? You're so depressed."
Early in the morning, Ji Lan went to the studio and Zhang Fan came in with a new recruitment form: "This is the resume I received in the past two days."
"Leave it alone!" Ji Lan said, his voice hoarse, and he coughed uncomfortably.
Zhang Fan gave her a strange look, poured a glass of water and handed it to her: "Did you go to a karaoke last night? Your voice is so hoarse."
Ji Lan cleared her throat and calmly made an excuse: "I have a cold."
"Get out! Let me take a look at your resume."
"There is a director who studied abroad and returned. You can pay close attention to it."
Ji Lan nodded.
Zhang Fan stepped forward, but within three to five minutes, Ji Lan's phone rang.
She picked it up and saw the name lying on the screen, and said angrily: "Is something wrong?"
"Go downstairs," the man said in a polite and official tone, "Yan Hui sent the medicine over."
"The fox pretends to be the tiger's power."