Heroine’s Road to Becoming Scum Chapter 875: 1

Ninety-first bowl of soup (1)

In the summer afternoon, the sun is scorching hot, the cries of chi came from outside the window, the mottled leaves imprinted chaotic shadows on the glass, and the floor-to-ceiling air conditioner in the Haibin City Library is very cool. Since it is Saturday, so come here Many people read books.

But most of them are young women, from their teens to their thirties. They are obviously reading books, but they are all dressed up, and the air is filled with all kinds of fragrances, mixed with Together, the fragrance is not so wonderful.

The drunkard's intention is not to drink.

It's like the girl by the window who was wearing a sailor suit and showing a pair of thin legs. She was about fifteen or sixteen years old. She looked like a junior high school student, but her hair was dyed golden, and she wore exaggerated large earrings on her ears. The nails are painted black and the lipstick is bright. She is obviously a young girl, but she has to pretend to be a mature urban beauty.

It's also like the woman in the white shirt on the No. 3 desk near the service desk. She should be thirty years old, and she has a mature look all over her body. This is something that girls of fifteen or sixteen cannot imitate. The beauty that has been precipitated and honed over the years cannot be replicated. Her lipstick is fresh orange, her big wavy curly hair looks very sexy, her shirt has two buttons on the neckline, and her deep career line is clearly visible.

Otherwise, she is like a female college student standing in front of a bookcase. Her red dress is dazzling, and she wears fresh and elegant **** makeup, worthy of the name of the school flower. At this moment, she was standing in front of the bookcase, holding a book in her hand, as if she was reading it carefully. But the expression on his face is extremely uneasy, so the beautiful appearance is particularly attractive.

But one thing these beauties have in common is that they can't help looking at the desk.

Junior high school girls are brave, mature women are lazy and seductive, college girls are slightly shy, and other women are the same, they can't control their eyes, they have to go to Look at the service desk.

Hainan City is only a small city on the 18th tier. It even has only one undergraduate university, which can be said to be very inconspicuous. Therefore, the library's facilities are not very advanced. In addition to the search engine and the borrowing system, there is only one computer in the entire library - at the service desk.

At this moment, a pair of slender jade-like hands are jumping on the keyboard. Obviously it's just typing, but like the most elegant ballet dancer, this scene is represented as a perfect picture.

Looking up, the owner of these beautiful hands is wearing a black shirt, buttoned up neatly up to the top, not even a bit of excess is exposed. The top of the shirt is a swan-like neck, a slightly moving Adam's apple, and further up... is a handsome face that makes people blush and ears warm.

It's so beautiful that people can't bear to look away at one glance.

The man looked about twenty-seven or eighteen years old. His black hair was meticulously combed, showing a full forehead. His eyebrows were thick and slender. His dark eyes were deep and distant, hidden behind a pair of golden glasses. The tall nose bridge is not afraid of the pressure of glasses, and the thin diamond-shaped lips always hold an elegant and shallow smile.

The librarian of Haibin City is a beautiful man who is very attractive, and it has long been known in the university. As a result, the number of borrowers in the library, which has never been neglected, has skyrocketed in recent months. As long as you look at the borrowing records carefully, you will know that most of the borrowers are women, regardless of age.

Because of the beauty of the administrator, there is no age difference. But anyone who has seen him once can't help but want to see him again.

It's so addicting.

But whether it's a fresh junior high school girl who calls him uncle uncle, or a mature beauty who warmly invites him to a one-night stand, or a shy and shy confession of Qingli University's school flower - the administrators all refuse gently and politely. He smiled at everyone he saw, but he didn't get close to anyone. After so long, they only knew his surname Zai, not even his name.

Over time, the women formed a tacit agreement that everyone could only admire Mr. Song, and no one was allowed to take action. Probably this kind of feeling is similar to the fanatical fans who like to chase stars. No women are allowed to appear around idols. He belongs to everyone.

Mr. Song finished typing on the keyboard, and the school flower walked up to him with a book in his hand, and glanced at him embarrassedly, blushes couldn't make it shy: "Hello, I, I want to borrow this book. "..." As he spoke, he glanced at Mr. Song uncontrollably.

Mr. Song's smile was more gentle: "Please wait a moment."

He's very good at work, so unfortunately the schoolgirl doesn't get much alone time with him, and there are other people waiting behind him. Holding the book, she finally turned around and walked away.

Behind the school flower is a raw face, at least the women who often come to the library have never seen it, but it looks good. "That..." She made a weak voice while handing out the certificate for registration.

"Huh?" Mr. Song glanced at her, his handsome brows and eyes looked even more perfect, as if the sculptor had carefully crafted them without a single flaw.

"Can I add you on WeChat...or exchange mobile phone numbers?" Girls are very daring people, but no matter how daring people are, they can't bear to face such a good-looking and gentle man Stay shy.

Mr. Song smiled softly, but declined: "Sorry, I don't have WeChat."

Although it is a rejection, it is not embarrassing. The girl blushed and looked at his face insane. It wasn't until the people behind her started complaining and urging impatiently that she woke up like a dream and walked out of the team with a book in her arms, but she couldn't help but look back. .

Mr. Song is still smiling, he always seems to be smiling, always gentle, and always doesn't care about anyone.

Such a person is not so much gentle and elegant and easy to talk about, but rather indifferent to the extreme, living in this bustling world, but never approaching or letting anyone approach, keeping a distance from everyone. If such a person fell in love one day, it would feel like a blasphemy.

I just hope that there will be no women who make his heart move, so that everyone can have him together.

The library closes at 5:00 sharp. Under normal circumstances, sensible admirers will leave five minutes early. Because Mr. Song has to count the books, he also needs to clean up and turn off all the power. After get off work, he will lock the door, then pick up the key, and drive his ordinary black car to the parking lot outside, passing the supermarket on the way, he will go in to buy some daily necessities and food, and then go back to the apartment.

That's certainly the case today.

Mr. Song turned off all the power, and as soon as he walked around the bookcase, he saw a person at the door of the library. He smiled slightly and said, "I'm sorry, I'm off work..."

The words were only half said, and they disappeared between his lips and teeth. Then, on this handsome and unforgettable face, the smile gradually increased and became extra gentle: "Miss, do you need help?"

If the previous junior high school girls were very cute, urban beauties were sexy, and college flowers were beautiful, then this one standing at the door at this moment can step them into the dust. Those women are indeed the most beautiful among the women who usually come to the library, but compared with the woman at the door, they are really far behind, they are simply the difference between clouds and mud.

The beauty of this woman, just like Mr. Song's handsomeness, is as dazzling as the stars in the sky. As long as you see it once, you will never forget it.

But she's more of a girl than a woman. His hair was obediently smooth and black until the waist, and the simple black skirt showed a beautiful collarbone and perfect shoulder and neck lines. A pair of small hands tightly grasped the bag and stood at the door, looking at him nervously and nervously.

That pair of eyes seemed to contain the stars and the sea. No one who saw it would be willing to refuse any of her requests.

"Sorry, I, I want to borrow a book..."

"Of course." Mr. Song smiled and rolled his eyes, "Please."

The girl walked in stiffly, she looked very uneasy, but instead of looking for the book, she stopped in front of Mr. Song: "...you, can you help me? I...I'm afraid I don't know...how to find..."

"Of course." Mr. Song came over, "Which book are you looking for?"

His curved eyebrows and smiling eyes are really good-looking. He seems to be very close to the girl. She is a little unaccustomed to it, so she took a step back, still clutching the bag: "What I'm looking for is... "Kafka" Confessing Lena's Love Letter."

"Okay, please wait."

The handsome man walked in front of the girl, she became even more nervous, and even her breathing began to become rapid. This is an uncontrollable physiological reaction, which is very clear in the huge and quiet library. As Mr. Song gradually walked in, the girl followed behind him, but her hand slipped into the bag. Then she bit her lower lip, took out a knife, and stabbed it desperately——

The expected blood splattering did not appear. Instead, the slender wrist was caught by the man, and after a burst of pain, the knife fell to the ground. For a while, she was trapped in the corner, the man's fiery breath and strong chest surrounded her, like a sharp and vigorous cheetah, with danger and wildness: "How can girls play with knives, how dangerous, If you close your eyes, you can't aim at the target."

Failed!

The girl's face was pale in an instant, and she lost her strength. She was about to slip when she was paralyzed, and Mr. Song easily hugged her. The beauty is sighing.