The secretary had never seen him so fierce before and was startled, standing frozen in place for a moment. But thinking of the documents in her hand, she gritted her teeth and chased after him.
Song Hengjue pressed the elevator button, not expecting that the secretary would follow him in. He gritted his teeth and swallowed his anger, snatched the documents from her hand, and held out a slender hand: "Pen."
The secretary carefully observed his expression, then quickly reached into her pocket, pulled out a pen, and respectfully handed it to him.
Song Hengjue read it quickly, twice, and after confirming that it was identical to the one he had seen before, he signed his name with a flourish.
The secretary took the document with trepidation, only to find that her boss's expression was extremely bad. She kept her eyes down, hoping that Song Hengjue would ignore her presence.
The elevator must have heard his wish, because it slowly opened its doors after only a few seconds.
Song Hengjue exuded a chilling aura, startling even the employees waiting for the elevator outside, who retreated in fear.
One of the young women winked at the secretary.
Is the boss about to kill someone?
The secretary looked at the back of Song Hengjue's head, shook her head slightly, and dared not utter a sound.
"That face, is the company about to go bankrupt or has your wife run off with someone else?" A soft laugh came from behind.
Where did this hothead come from?
The secretary subconsciously looked over at Song Hengjue, only to see that the boss, who had just been frowning and acting like a plague, was now frozen in place, looking somewhat restrained and at a loss, but more than anything, pleasantly surprised.
Yang Qingheng smiled, the large bouquet of roses in her arms looking vibrant and beautiful, which made her bright eyes and white teeth stand out even more, as if she were in a dream.
"Aren't you leaving?" Seeing that he didn't move, she reached out and threw the flowers into his arms, then stretched her wrists.
She was sore from the backache the whole way; she was exhausted.
Song Hengjue was in a daze. He gently held the bouquet in his arms and followed closely behind her.
The person who was arguing with him just a moment ago appeared in front of him the next second?
"What are you standing there for? Give me a hand." Yang Qingheng, holding a suitcase, looked at him standing there in a daze and said irritably.
Song Hengjue snapped out of his daze, quickly picked up her suitcase from behind and put it in the car. He moved his lips, but after a long while, he managed to squeeze out a sentence: "Why did you come here without telling me?"
He's been furious these past two days.
His emotions were in turmoil. Song Hengjue's excitement reached its peak. If they weren't still outside and it wouldn't be inappropriate, he would have loved to pull her into his arms and kiss her hard, and even swallow her whole.
It's just so rare and precious.
Yang Qingheng chuckled, signaling the driver to drive, then turned to look at him: "If I hadn't come, I wouldn't have known you had such a big problem with me. What, you want to go back to the capital and teach me a lesson?"
Song Hengjue's ears felt hot. She glanced ahead and, finding the driver hadn't noticed, leaned close to her ear.
Yang Qingheng heard what he said clearly, her expression changed, and she slapped him on the lips: "What nonsense are you talking about outside?"
Song Hengjue's eyelashes trembled. This light slap did not anger him. Instead, it made his lips and the back of his ears feel hot, and his well-defined fingers on his leg curled up unconsciously.
What are you pretending for?
Yang Qingheng rolled her eyes at him. He was the one talking nonsense, yet he was blushing before she was.
The two had lunch outside before Song Hengjue took them home to rest.
He pulled the woman close by the waist and kicked open the hotel door. A muffled thud was the sound of luggage hitting the ground. The man's trembling breath mingled with the woman's warm breath, and the faint fragrance of roses lingered in their nostrils, adding a unique allure.
"Wait a minute." Song Hengjue suddenly leaned back and, under Yang Qingheng's bewildered gaze, placed the bouquet of flowers neatly on the table.
So, the person who rudely threw her luggage just now wasn't him, right?
Yang Qingheng's lips twitched. Perhaps it was a case of beauty being in the eye of the beholder, but she inexplicably found his actions adorable. She rubbed her pearly teeth against his slightly red nose, biting and sucking.
She lifted his chin with two fingers, admiring her own mischievous teeth marks: "You like flowers that much?"
"This is the first time you've ever brought this to me." Song Hengjue snorted coldly, his tone clearly showing dissatisfaction, and then he pushed her onto the bed.
"I don't want this position, my knees hurt," Yang Qingheng frowned, turning her head back to find his lips, "Why haven't I ever given you any? In my past life, I planted a whole yard of them for you."
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