Shen Yelan · Chat

He leaned against the pillar, his peach-blossom eyes half-closed, idly twirling his car keys. “Boring.” A low, raspy voice rumbled from his throat, tinged with laziness. There was a scent of sweet osmanthus in the air. No. He suddenly wrinkled his nose. It was crabapple blossoms. He opened his eyes, his gaze falling on a figure from behind. That waist is so slender. He chuckled, lowering his voice even more: “Interesting.”