342. Chapter 342 Long Zhutian is also narcissistic 1
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When I opened my eyes and woke up, my pillow was empty.
Yang Zimei's heart was suddenly evacuated, and she stared blankly at the white mosquito net for a while. Then she lazily got up from the bed, put on her slippers, and walked out of the room.
There was a faint sound of cutting wood from the courtyard.
He hasn't left yet?
She felt happy and hurried into the courtyard.
Long Zhutian was sitting on the large decorative stone in the center of the courtyard, head lowered, holding her carving knife for carving jade in her hand, whittling something on a large piece of wood.
The golden sunshine in the morning shone on his body, making his concentrated face look even more handsome, handsome and charming.
This is her man!
Yang Zimei stood not far away, looking at him dreamily!
Perhaps feeling her gaze, Long Zhutian raised his head, just in time to meet her eyes that were a bit obsessed and lingering. His heart softened, and there was a gentle light in his eyes. He smiled lightly at her.
Laughed.
Long Zhutian doesn't smile often, but when he smiles, he blooms like icebergs and snow lotuses, making people feel like spring is returning to the earth.
Like Zhuge Yue, when he smiles, two deep dimples will appear on his lips, which makes him drunk to death.
Zhuge Yue is a man who likes to have a devilish and evil smile, which is filled with peach blossoms.
But Long Zhutian was different. His temperament was as cold as iron, and his smile gave people an indescribable feeling.
Therefore, when he just smiled like this, Yang Zimei felt as if his heart was being grabbed by a cat's claws, and his whole body was about to melt into his smile.
This man is really a monster.
She thought again of the time when he was fifteen!
At that time, his posture was unique to a monster, as if he had stepped out of a comic book. She was inexplicably moved when she first saw him.
She smiled brightly back at him, ran over in small steps, and pouted slightly: "I thought you left quietly again."
Long Zhutian pursed his lips, stretched out his hands and pulled her to sit on his legs, like a father holding a child.
The two of them had long been accustomed to hugging each other. Yang Zimei didn't feel any suddenness or awkwardness. She sat naturally on his warm legs and knees, looking at the wood and knife in his hand, "Do you want to carve something?"
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"Well, carve a version of me." Long Zhutian wiped away the fragments on the wood with his fingers, and the rough outline of a head was highlighted. It really looked like him.
"Why is it that the carving is not of me, but of yourself?"