Little Runaway Wife: President, Please Stop

She walked slowly to the door. It was a heavy stone carved door. It looked airtight and heavy. Mu Enron looked at the copper ring hanging on it.

The sound hit the stone gate dully.

In a dark and narrow room, canvases are hung everywhere. It looks like a small attic. A man can only see his back in a wheelchair. He looks firm and firm.

He sat in front of an easel. All around the small attic were rotten canvases. They looked messy, all sizes and all kinds of skewness. Even a lot of drawing paper was scattered on the floor

In these paintings, all are a woman. She sits on a high chair with her hands elegantly in front of her. She is wearing a luxurious skirt and a princess style gauze shaggy skirt. She wears elegant gloves and her hair is pulled up high.

Beautiful and elegant.

But they all have one characteristic - the women in these paintings have no face.

"Young master..."

At this time, the door was gently pushed open. Smith was holding a white towel with slightly dense water vapor on the towel. It was obvious that he had been cleaning his hands with a towel for Dongfang Shichuan just now.

The man stretched out his hand and turned his back to him. The slender and clean joints were stained with paint.

Smith handed the towel. Dongfang Shichuan wiped his hands. He handed the towel back.

Smith hesitated. "Young master...?"

"Say."

Always a cold and heartless word, cold and pleasant to hear, but some slightly hoarse, vaguely able to hear the fatigue hidden inside.

"Miss mu... Is outside. Do you want to let her in now?"

Smith hesitated for a moment and gave a frank account.

Dongfang Shichuan frowned without trace, still holding a brush in his hand. The high easel in front of him and the white canvas have outlined a woman's beautiful lines, and some scattered lines behind are outlining the scenery behind.

"Young master...?"

Smith saw that Dongfang Shichuan didn't say a word and tried to call him again.

"Get out."

The voice of Dongfang Shichuan is very pleasant to hear. Even a rolling word is like a gurgling spring in a mountain stream. It is mellow and pleasant to hear, and can't hear any anger.

Smith had to step back. Now he is painting here

Smith is a servant. He can't guess what Dongfang Shichuan is thinking. Maybe he is willing to see Mu Enron, but his mind is also very complex and deep. Smith guesses that Dongfang Shichuan must be angry now. Today is her wedding. What did she come here for?

But Dongfang Shichuan didn't clearly express that he didn't want to see her. Maybe he still had a little expectation?

Smith sighed, closed the wooden door in front of him, went downstairs and opened the gate of the castle. Mu Enron was standing outside, tall and wearing an elegant and luxurious skirt. The fine diamonds on the skirt were brighter than the stars tonight.

She stood outside, some cramped rubbing her hands, more because she was cold.

"How's it going?"

Mu Enron has been walking back and forth outside, stamping his feet from time to time to move his body.