His Wife Calls The Shots

Feng Xian went downstairs to the girls' dormitory and looked around, but she didn't see Qian Mian.

I sent her a message, but didn't answer, called, got through, but didn't answer.

The girls who came and went kept looking at him, talking as they walked.

After a while, the phone went through.

"Hey, is it... Mr. Feng?"

This voice...was from Wei Wu.

"Where's the ethereal?"

"I don't know, she just came back and put her things down and went out. Maybe she went to the stadium."

Wei Wu opened the door to look out as he spoke.

At a glance, I saw Feng Xian standing downstairs.

"President Feng, should I go find it for you?"

After a faint sentence, Fengxian hung up the phone.

Wei Wu looked at the screen, and the word "string" disappeared with the call interface.

She remembered the expression Qian Mian had when she just came back. She seemed calm, but in fact, undercurrents were surging, and she seemed to have encountered something unhappy.

Moreover, going to the sports field at this point is probably also for relaxation.

There are very few people in the sports hall to the west at this time.

When I walked to the door, I didn't hear the noisy noise, only the sound of friction between the sports shoes and the court floor, and, one after another, the rhythmic beating.

Walking in, I saw a tall and thin figure holding a tennis racket playing tennis with the wall net.

Every time I hit the target, the ball bounced back quickly and was shot by her again.

This is repeated without intermission.

The girl's slender arms kept swinging powerful beats, and a thin layer of sweat was covered on her white face, which made her skin more hydrated.

She didn't seem to notice his approach, still focusing on the ball flying around.

Fengxian stood on the wall behind, without interruption.

In this way, after half an hour, Qian Mian was already sweating and panting.

She threw away the racket, walked to the side and picked up a bottle of water to unscrew it.

At this time, a bottle that had already been opened was handed over.

She glanced faintly, and asked casually: "Have you not gone back?"

The voice is very calm, no emotion can be heard.

But her eyes didn't actually look at his face.

Feng Xian watched she unscrewed a bottle of water and drank it herself, but she didn't pick him up, so she settled on her guess-she was angry.

Sulking.

"I'll go back and leave." He said.

Qian Miao put down the water, picked up the racket and turned around neatly: "No need."

Taking a breath, she waved the beat again.

This time the intensity is much heavier than before, and the sound is different.

Five minutes later, the tennis ball suddenly pierced the wall net and sank over there.

Qianmiao panted slightly and looked over.

At this moment, applause sounded from the side.

"That's amazing, Tang Qianyan."

Three male classmates holding basketballs came over. They just came, and they saw Tang Qianyan playing alone, and there was a handsome man silently beside him. There was a slight worry in the men’s eyes. The atmosphere is subtle.

So, they stopped and looked at it for a while, and after only looking at it for a while, they were overwhelmed by Tang Qian's skills and couldn't help applauding.

"What's the point of playing alone, how about a round with me?" a boy said.

Qian Miao didn't matter, and threw another racket to him.

The boys laughed and said, "If we lose, we have to invite us to dinner. If I lose, I invite us to dinner. How about?"

Qianmiao patted the ground with the ball in his hand, bowed slightly, and his eyes were sharp and ruthless like a hunting tiger wolf: "Stop talking nonsense, let's start."