Chapter VIII: Immorality

Chapter VIII: Immorality

Small class today is the last day.

Today's class is early, two classes in the afternoon, less than 4: 30 on the school.

A few friends in the WeChat group sent messages over, shouting to eat a meal together, today is December 27, from the New Year's Eve has been very close, this time if not to get together again, estimated years ago no time about.

Wen Miao did not want to go, but Qi Cheng shouted "Grandpa" and "Grandpa" in the group. She had a false sense that she was about to plant gourd dolls. She could not match the enthusiastic "Grandpa". WenMiao casually should come down.

After the address came, Wen Miao was silent.

Baishan West Street. A Dream Bar?

Well, isn't this the one she smashed yesterday?

It's a bad fate.

The bar has been cleaned up, completely can not see yesterday's steel money son flying like, lively as usual.

WenMiao went in and saw ShenJiaYu.

It is not her eyes are good, mainly that Shen boss appearance is too outstanding, in the black pressure of the crowd also like a big light bulb. With a face like that, I'm not sure I'll keep a low profile anywhere.

He was sitting in a spot close to the bar, a semi-open booth with a U-shaped sofa in the middle of it, a long table with beer and Coke cans and snacks, and a jumble of lighters and cigarette cases.

The bar was dimly lit, smoky and alcohol-rich. Shen Jiayu sat in a slouched posture. Most of her face was hidden in the dark and her face looked dark. It seems that the whole person from the bone to exude a cold, like water breath.

He leaned lazily against the back of the sofa, his elbows loosely on the side, a long dark smoke sandwiched between his sharp phalanx, and a scorching spark pervaded his long, cold-white fingertips.

There were two young men in the booth. There were girls sitting beside Shen Chia-Yu. They were clean and clean. Nobody was there.

Oh, no. He's got a half-man-tall stuffed animal next to him.

It's Doraemon.

The round blue fat man squeezed into the position beside the general.

All in all, the painting style is very strange.

In the bar with all kinds of restless hormonal atmosphere, it is a clear stream.

The out-of-place blue fat man was so attractive that Wen Miao couldn't help but look at him more.

In the interval of a few seconds, Shen Chia-Yu seemed to be aware of the sight cast from here. His hand on the side of the sofa moved slightly and suddenly looked up.

WenMiao unbiased to his sight.

That is a pair of deep and cool eyes, black eyes narrow, such as ink pupil, the end of the eyes gently hooked up, the eyes hide a little grumpy light, as a blade of general sharp.

With that pair of beautiful eyes to look at each other for a moment, Wen Miao calmly and freely to withdraw the line of sight.

Who are you kidding? Next to a shadow suddenly fell, as if someone sat over, Wen Miao homeopathic turn to look.

The next second, the vision of a bright and colorful face.

The girl was only fifteen or sixteen years old, but she was very beautiful. Her features were amazing, her eyes were large and deep, her lips were thin and cold, and her long, soft, brown hair fell to her waist.

Looks like a lazy and expensive Persian cat.

It's the late Liner.