The seven years between me and Zha Gong

"What kind of boy is he?" Luo Sirao asked curiously. Fang Qiyan likes him the most. He will not be jealous or jealous. He knows where he should put himself. Fang Qiyan likes such a sensible and smart person.

"You don't have to worry about him, all he wants is money, which is different from you." Fang Qiyan looked at Lan Weiyu on the bed and said, no matter what, he must first make his lover feel at ease.

Luo Sirao laughed lightly: "Well, Qi Yan, I believe you, huh?! I'm sleepy, and I have to fly back to the United States early tomorrow morning."

"Thank you for your hard work." Fang Qiyan exhaled a puff of smoke and said unhurriedly.

"I want to help Qi Yan manage the company?! When will you let me stay in Beicheng, by your side?" Luo Sirao acted like a baby.

Fang Qiyan said: "When the branch in Beicheng is stable, I will pick you up. You stay in the United States obediently. If you need anything, just tell me."

"Okay?! Qi Yan, when I'm not by your side, you can't fall in love with that shield?!" Luo Sirao was joking with a lazy voice.

Fang Qiyan's heart skipped a beat, and quickly calmed down again. He glanced at Lan Weiyu on the bed, and smiled cruelly: "Don't worry, I will never fall in love with him."

"Yeah, I believe in you, I love you, Qi Yan."

Fang Qiyan was stunned for a moment, and then said: "Good boy, go to sleep." After hanging up the phone, the room was dark and silent. Fang Qiyan extinguished his cigarette, walked to the bed, and looked at Lan Weiyu who was lying quietly under the quilt. It has been three years Just now, he was dazzled by anger, so he didn't look at him carefully. Looking at him now, he is thinner and taller, and his hair is still very soft. Fang Qiyan really likes to smell the smudges on his hair, and likes the tangled strands of his hair. through his fingers.

Lan Weiyu looks better than before, a little more mature, but his appearance is more handsome. He has never been considered stunning, but the more people look at him, the more comfortable he is. His slender eyelashes, small nose, no matter how cute he looks...

Fang Qiyan's eyes softened a little, and he reached out to touch his hair, but stopped just as he was about to touch it.

Everything from the past came before his eyes again, he gritted his teeth, and lowered his hands weakly.

In Hilton's presidential suite, there is a faint smell of tobacco.

The next day, when Lan Weiyu woke up, the smell of smoke had dissipated, he sat up slowly, his body was a little sore, and there was no one around him, Fang Qiyan had already left, Lan Weiyu lifted the quilt, and saw the changes on his body. Covered with bruises, Lan Weiyu got out of bed, the pain of tearing made him almost unsteady.

"Huh..." Lan Weiyu frowned, and propped her hands on the bedside table. There was a bank card and a business card on the bedside table. Lan Weiyu picked up the business card