Song Nuan raised an eyebrow.
In the end, she ordered him a bowl of zhajiang noodles.
Lu Yan was reluctant to hang up the phone, so Song Nuan said, "If you don't want to hang up, then just stay on the line like this."
"I'm going to read for a while now."
The man chuckled softly, "Can't you look at me a bit more?"
Song Nuan sighed, thinking about what she had done in the studio. Haven't she thought of him enough already?
She can't do anything properly, not even paint seriously.
Honestly… she felt her heart was really tired.
"Let me see how you painted me."
Song Nuan casually took out the painting.
In the painting, the man was shirtless, his eyes darkened, and his Adam's apple slightly moved.
"This painting is quite sensual—do you miss me?"
Song Nuan said, "Otherwise, how could I have painted you?"
He chuckled, speaking slowly, "Is this how I appear in your mind?"
"You remember the muscles and lines so clearly. Did I leave such a deep impression on you?"
