Listening to the rustle of clothes being changed, Wen Nuan slightly closed her eyes, turning her back to him, and cursed softly in her heart.
This man did it on purpose just now, it must be!
What a cute girl, with personality, I like it!
Glancing sideways at Wen Nuan’s embarrassed and angry appearance, Tan Qing’s mood improved even more.
After changing into a flashy shirt, he came out wearing large sunglasses, whistled at Wen Nuan, and casually leaned against the side of a red Ferrari, looking every bit the playboy.
"I’ll take the clothes back, return them to you tomorrow. What’s your phone number? I’ll jot it down so I can contact you."
Looking at him dressed like a Peacock, yet still with an extraordinary, mischievous beauty, Wen Nuan only smiled faintly, directly taking the clothes from his hand without giving him another glance.
Despite this man being incredibly good-looking. But after having met that man three years ago, she seemed immune to handsome men, of course, excluding that man.
Just like a moment ago, her heart still pounded fiercely. Such breathtaking beauty seemed to always reside in the deepest part of her heart, making her involuntarily chase after him. If she had really caught up with him just now, she might have forgotten her married status and, like three years ago, blurted out: "I like you."
Thinking back on her earlier impulsiveness, she felt a bit embarrassed and was glad that she didn’t catch up to him after all.
Today is not as it was before; as a married woman, she no longer has the right to say such words. She has a husband, even if they don’t care for each other.
"Back to your senses, girl, what are you thinking about, did you hear what I said or not?"
A long, pale hand waved in front of her eyes, and Wen Nuan’s embarrassed face turned slightly red: "I’ll wash the clothes clean."
"Okay, but you have to give me your phone number."
For the first time encountering a woman’s disregard, Tan Qing felt inexplicably annoyed. He also took out his phone, intending to write down Wen Nuan’s number.
Wen Nuan smiled faintly: "You tell me yours, I’ll remember it. I’ll call you after I wash it."
Having mingled in Paris for so long, many men had pursued her. To avoid excessive harassment, she always took down the guys’ numbers instead of giving out her own. Of course, she wouldn’t actually dial the numbers she’d written down.
Very cautious indeed! Tan Qing smiled slyly: "That won’t do, I know nothing about you. What if my shirt never comes back?"
In fact, he was more afraid that this beauty before him might never return. It was the first time he had met a woman who was immune to him, indifferent even, and as a self-proclaimed love sage, he couldn’t possibly let her slip away.
"You..." Wen Nuan was a bit annoyed, but on second thought, his request wasn’t unreasonable. She took a breath and gave her number.
Soon, her phone rang, and Tan Qing had already dialed her number: "This is my number, make sure to save it."
"Goodbye, sir. If nothing special comes up, I’ll return your shirt tomorrow afternoon." Quickly storing the number and putting her phone in her bag, Wen Nuan turned to leave. Suddenly, her wrist tightened as a long, bony hand gripped her.
"Name? Tell me your name?" A light and airy voice floated from Tan Qing’s lips.
The large sunglasses had been removed, revealing a deep smile on his face, with a wicked gleam in his eyes, exuding a captivating "Demonic Energy."