Mi Yao kept telling herself, she didn't like him!
She liked Gu Yunsheng!
"What are you drawing?" At this moment, a deep magnetic voice sounded overhead.
Mi Yao suddenly looked up, only to see Feng Yueming standing next to her, his hand casually tucked into his trouser pocket, looking down at her.
When had he come? She hadn't noticed him.
"I'm not drawing anything, I have no inspiration."
Feng Yueming leaned down, sat beside her, then extended his strong arms and clasped her delicate waist, pulling her to sit on his firm thighs.
"You..." Mi Yao was about to struggle.
"Don't move." Feng Yueming held her securely in his arms, then picked up her sketchpad and pencil, "How about I draw a portrait of you?"
Mi Yao blinked, looking up at him, "You know how to draw?"
Feng Yueming raised an eyebrow and snorted, clearly meaning—don't worship me, bro.
"I'm done."
Mi Yao looked down, and he had drawn a little pig on the sketchpad.
What?
