71. Destined to be my wife

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Han Ning's expression instantly solidified on his face.

She really could not have imagined that the eldest Miss Zheng family, who seems to be pure and pollution-free, has such a strong personality and does not quarrel with her. She is despised by the condescending class, as if in her eyes, she is not even a paramecia.

Han Ning turned on the headlights angrily, which made Zheng Lan's eyes narrow:

"What else do you have besides a great father?"

"Our whole family is amazing, not just my dad."

She paused and laughed,

"No matter how bad it is, I'm better than you. I know that I'm a vase, something I don't like."

After saying this, Zheng Lan suddenly admired herself.

Why am I being so rude? Is it domineering etched in DNA?

While thinking about it, she didn't stay much and walked away at a fast pace.

How wonderful Han Ning's face was, and whether she was bleeding from anger, she didn't have time to see, because she was standing in front of other people's cars by herself. It might be explained here.

Arriving next to her car, the driver got out of the car and opened the door for her.

I just heard the muffled sound of two cars colliding not far away, followed by Han Ning's sharp and unusual scolding, not caring about the air of a female star:

"Don't you have eyes while driving? Was your driver's license picked up from the rubbish heap?"

Half a minute later, a black Audi drove past the cluttered crash scene.

Zheng Lan fastened her seat belt, not even interested in looking out the window.

-

On the weekend, under the hardships of his mother, Zheng Lan reluctantly left the dormitory and returned home.

She likes living in the dormitory, and she can be very unrestrained when she is with her roommates. She doesn't want to wash her hair on weekends. She wears plush pajamas and slippers to eat in the cafeteria when she doesn't bother to change clothes. Keeping clean and tidy every minute and every second, not eating or sleeping, pajamas are too fancy, and my father will comment on "how old and so naive"...

Today, Zheng Lan was sitting on the sofa in pink coral velvet pajamas and flipping the score. Zheng Congshan passed by her once, twice, three times without saying anything.

Zheng Lan thought that he was in a good mood today and was too lazy to care about her, so his sitting posture became more and more crooked, and gradually he lay down on the sofa, flipping through the score with both hands raised, his left leg folded over his right leg, which was uncomfortably comfortable.

In the autumn afternoon, the sunlight of Qing Lingling slanted in from the south-facing window.

Zheng Lan had been lying down for a long time, and as soon as he closed his eyes, he began to dream, not knowing where he was.

When she opened her eyes again, her father and mother were sitting on the small sofa beside the couch, staring at her for a moment.

Her father had never allowed her to sleep on the sofa.

Zheng Lan hurriedly propped up and sat up: "Dad, that, I'm so sleepy..."

"fine."

Zheng Congshan was unexpectedly good at talking today.

He took out a folder and placed it lightly on the coffee table.

Zheng Lan was a little puzzled, so he picked it up and looked at it under his father's instructions.

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