Little Runaway Wife: President, Please Stop

Blanche narrowed his eyes and smiled.

She raised her hand and opened the retro record player next to her. The light melodious little dance music was mellow and elegant. In the wine glass in her hand, the red wine rippled slightly.

Outside her villa.

A pair of gray pupils have seen all this. Havila is wearing a light blue gauze with large open sleeves, inside which is a light blue silk suspender dress. The gauze cover seems to be filled with a dense layer of light fog.

Her long, light chestnut hair curled up slightly, with thick, wavy hair.

The whole person exudes a clear and spiritual beauty, like a fairy who accidentally fell into the world.

Especially her skin porcelain white, light cherry red lips, beautiful unreal.

She looked coldly at the woman who was leisurely tasting red wine in the villa, and the dance music of the last century was extremely melodious and beautiful.

Of course, she knew Blanche's temperament. She couldn't wait for her to take the initiative to tell her the trump card in her hand. She had already expected that Blanche would make people steal the information in her hand.

After all, Blanche's disgust with Ye Qingcheng is getting deeper and deeper, so deep that she can hardly tolerate Ye Qingcheng's existence.

She already knew Blanche couldn't wait.

There is a Chinese saying that the mantis catches the cicada, and the Yellow finch is behind.

Havila looked at the scene inside and smiled coldly.

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When ye Qingcheng arrived at the emperor, the lights were on, the traffic flow around was like a long dragon, and the wind was a little strong at night.

Almost as soon as the car stopped, ye Qingcheng ran down and entered the hall of emperor Hao. The brilliant decoration made her a little depressed.

She has always been familiar with Dihao's conference hall on the second floor.

Standing in front of the black gate, ye Qingcheng felt that all his strength was stripped away. There were many bodyguards in black at the door. When he saw it, he knew it was around Dongfang Shijin.

All the bodyguards saw her coming and nodded slightly.

Ye Qingcheng's cardigan coat slipped a little, and one side of her shoulder was exposed. She was wearing a white cotton linen skirt, loose and baggy.

The black door opened a small gap. Ye Qingcheng felt that the whole world was quiet at this moment.

She slowly stretched out her hand and touched the heavy wooden door, which was slightly cold.

Push hard.

At the press conference site covered with red carpet, there were a lot of scattered mineral water bottles and several bodyguards.

The body of Dongfang Shijin stands in a forest of cold trees, shrouded in a narrow low pressure, and the surrounding air seems to condense.

Beside him stood six bodyguards.