The temperature dropped sharply and the heavy rain was rising.

The entire Nanlin City is wrapped in the misty water vapor.

The pavement lined with sycamore trees is covered with yellow leaves that have been knocked down by heavy rain, as if it is making a final farewell to late autumn.

When Jian Qing arrived at the address sent to her by Teacher Zhou's text message, she was already fifteen minutes late.

She pinned the wet hair on her side to her ears, took a deep breath, and rang the doorbell.

The doorbell sounded slowly.

The footsteps coming from the door were approaching, and they were both slow and slow.

Click-

The door slowly opened.

A shadow suddenly blocked her.

The man stood at the entrance, wearing a well-tailored high-end suit, which made him look tall, with wide shoulders and narrow waist, and a height of 1.85 meters above.

Deep facial features and delicate eyebrows.

The thin-edged silver glasses were on the narrow nose bridge, and the eyes hidden behind the lens were as dark as ink, the lines of the jaw were clear and profound, and there was a sense of coldness and distantness all over the body.

His eyes drooped slightly and fell on her face.

Jian Qing stared at him in a daze, tightened his itchy right hand, and resisted the idea of ​​drawing the man immediately.

A low and very magnetic voice came from above my head, "Tutor?"

Even the voice is perfect.

She quickly withdrew her gaze and lowered her head to apologize, "Sorry, I'm late."

"fine."

The man's tone was faint, he took a step back, gave up his position, and signaled her to come in.

Clean slippers were already arranged in the entrance hall, and Jian Qing changed his shoes and walked into the living room.

The house is open and wide, with a high-end grey minimalist style.

"Is Jian Qing right? Professor Zhou must have confirmed it with you, right?"

Lu Huaiyu found a clean white towel and handed it to her.

The joints are clear, and the cold white and slender fingers come into view.

Jian Qing sat on the sofa with some restraint, took the towel, and the touch was soft and comfortable, and subconsciously thanked him first.

Then he said, "Well, Teacher Zhou told me everything. From Monday to Friday, from 3:00 to 6:00 p.m., I will teach the children to draw."

Children's parents are generous, but they have many requirements.

You must be a student from the Department of Oil Painting at the Nanda Academy of Fine Arts. You cannot dye your hair and tattoo, or smoke and drink.

This is a rarer existence than phoenix hair in the art academy with open academic style.

In order to get this job, Jian Qing dyed her beautiful burgundy hair back to black.

The original hair was long and the waist was cut into short ears in order to save money on a bottle of hair dye.

The towel was pressed on her head and rubbed repeatedly, and soon wiped the water from her hair and hung it around her neck.

A little girl with pink and jade appeared from somewhere.

Taking small steps, he hugged the man's legs, like a little koala.

The little girl is about three years old, not as tall as a man's knee.

Wearing a pink princess dress, her big round eyes blinked, her small fan seemed to have long and upturned eyelashes, her pink face was white, soft and tender, and she was so cute that she was unremarkable.

Lu Huaiyu bent down and hugged the little girl in his arms, with skillful movements.

The black suit sleeves are slightly closed, revealing the exquisite cufflinks, and every move is noble and elegant.

"Mianmian, call people." His voice became gentle and intimate, different from the cold tone he had just said.

Lu Mianmian stared at Jian Qing for a long time, pursed her lips and said nothing, turned her head and buried her face into the man's shoulder.

Full of resistance.

Jian Qing rubbed the tip of his nose awkwardly.

"Mianmian is a little afraid of being alive. When you have difficulties, you can find Aunt Qin." He explained lightly.

Aunt Qin, who was busy working in the kitchen, clicked a name, poked out a head, wiped her hands on her apron, "Mr. Lu, is this the tutor who teaches Mianmian to paint?"

"The little girl looks so handsome, with pretty eyes. How tall are she?"

“…Junior Year.”

"I'm all junior? I really can't tell, why do you look so young?" Aunt Qin was shocked.

Lu Huaiyu raised his eyes slightly and looked at the little girl in front of him quietly.

It was a small ball, not as tall as his shoulders.

A simple white sweatshirt with a pink rabbit hand-painted on the front. The gray jeans were washed out in old fashion. The fabric was mostly darker and soaked in rain.

The swan's neck is white and slender, with wet hair tied behind his ears, and his porcelain-white little face looks like a piece of flawless jade, with clean and clear eyebrows and eyes.

He fiddled with his hands a little nervously.

It really looks small.

He glanced at his watch and said in a cold and polite voice, "I have something to go out. There are clean clothes in the guest room. If you don't mind, you can choose one to change it."

Jian Qing responded obediently and stood up politely, "Uncle Lu walks slowly."

The sound is soft and glutinous.

Lu Huaiyu paused, and said nothing, put his coat on his arms and opened the door and left.

A little cold.

Jian Qing sneezes.

Aunt Qin processed the bone broth for supper and simmered it slowly in a casserole.

After coming out of the kitchen, she took her to the guest room, closed the door gently, leaving her alone inside.

It's a room, but the room is still very spacious.

The dressing table is filled with expensive skin care products, most of which are not unpacked and are not stained with dust.

When she opened the thick wardrobe door, the clothes inside really scared her.

Looking around, it was full of haute couture dresses, shining, and she had seen several photos of the red carpet fashion photos of the stars on Weibo.

Each one is valuable.

Fortunately, there were several clothes for daily commuting in the corner. Jian Qing chose a long suspender lilac dress with a beige blouse.

The hostess' clothes are all mature and sexy. Although they are beautiful when worn on her, they feel disharmonious no matter how you look at them.

It's like a child stealing an adult's skirt.

Mianmian sat alone on the white carpet in the living room playing with building blocks, and saw a glimpse of a figure coming out of the guest room.

He ran over and hugged her legs, shouting timidly: "Mom, Mianmian misses you so much."

It seems to be acting cute and grievance.

I'll cry the next second.

Jian Qing knew that the little guy had admitted the wrong clothes because she was wearing, so he squatted down and rubbed her little head, and said softly in a tone of coaxing the child: "I'm sorry, I'm not your mother, do Mianmian miss her mother?"

Mianmian raised her head, and after seeing her face clearly, she pursed her lips and showed a disappointed expression. Her big round eyes quietly turned a little red.

But he was well educated and did not cry. He just let go of his hand and nodded.

"My mother went out to work and came back soon. Is it okay for her to draw her mother?" Jian Qing comforted, not forgetting that she was here to teach the children to draw.

Two easels are erected on the living room balcony, one large and one small, one high and one short, facing the floor-to-ceiling window.

At this time, the rain had stopped, the dark clouds dissipated, the sun was shining in from the window.

Jian Qing was very patient and taught Mianmian how to hold a brush, how to draw straight lines, how to draw circles, and how to draw villains.

The wet hair is already dry, and a strand of hair always hangs down unpretentiously.

She simply used a small painting clip to fix it behind her ears, revealing her snow-white and slender swan neck.

Near evening.

After checking the room, Lu Huaiyu leaned against the hospital corridor, inserted his right hand into his pocket, took out his cell phone casually, and habitually turned on the remote monitoring software.

The full picture of the living room of the home is displayed on the mobile phone screen. Two children are sitting in front of the easel, each painting their own.

The older child leaned back slightly, pinched his pencil and gestured up and down at the scenery outside the window, measuring the proportions and composition.

As her arms moved, a soft knitted cardigan slid off her shoulders, revealing the slender lace.
To be continued...