Shang Yechu turned his head and saw a tall figure, also carrying a huge tray, walking to his side.
Shang Yechu's brow twitched.
The figure paused, slowly walked to the opposite side of Shang Yechu, and said in Russian, "May I sit here?"
Shang Yechu subconsciously made a swallowing motion, but unexpectedly swallowed the croissant in her mouth in one gulp, almost choking to death.
"OK." Shang Yechu only managed to utter those two syllables before grabbing the milk glass and gulping down several mouthfuls.
After the liquid washed the food away, Shang Yechu finally had time to straighten her expression and look directly at the person in front of her.
"Sergei," Shang Yechu said with difficulty, "You...have arrived?"
The last two words were spoken in Chinese. But Shang Yechu didn't react.
Sergei wore a thin black coat that Shang Yechu admired, and a baseball cap on his head. After sitting down opposite Shang Yechu, he took off the cap, revealing a clean-shaven buzz cut.
This short, almost slicked-back, jail-style hairstyle did not detract from his handsome face at all. On the contrary, it accentuated his sharp features and strong, almost indescribable features.
This is truly an exceptionally handsome man, a veritable Apollo among men.
However, however.
A month had passed, and Sergei's signature mustache was still there, which was bad enough. What truly suffocated Shang Yechu was that a short stubble had begun to grow on his cheeks. Although it wasn't quite a full beard yet, it was still hard to ignore.
Shang Yechu stared in disbelief for a full three seconds before forcing herself to look away from Sergei's face.
Objectively speaking, Sergei's beard made him look several years older, which better suited Kovalev's character. If his beard was merely a comical transplant when they first met, now it made his face much more harmonious, exuding a mature masculine charm.
She suddenly thought of Sheng Wenzhi. Sheng Wenzhi vehemently disliked men with excessive masculinity and would always use sharp and sarcastic words to ridicule such men. If Sheng Wenzhi were sitting here now, he would probably jump up and throw milk in Sergei's face.
If Kovalev really looked like this, Shang Yechu couldn't help but wonder, when Wei Bingkai touched his face, didn't it feel rough to the touch? Like shaving potato shreds.
The image of Sergei's beard covered in potato shreds flashed through Shang Yechu's damned mind again, the fine potato shreds fluttering in the wind on Sergei's cheeks. She hated her own imagination at that moment.
Shang Yechu dared not look at him for long, nor dared she show any sign of disgust. She could only lower her head and frantically stuff food into her mouth. She was afraid that if she looked at Sergei's face again, she would burst out laughing.
For some reason, she always felt like laughing whenever she saw Sergei. Just like how she felt annoyed whenever she saw Sheng Wenzhi, and wanted to run away whenever she saw Su Ge.
Sergei, radiating winter chill and with wet snow stains on his shoulders, sat down in front of Shang Yechu. Shang Yechu lowered her head and stuffed several mouthfuls of food into her mouth.
"Are you feeling unwell?" Sergei asked. "Your shoulders have been shaking."
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