100 Billion Doted On ( Machine Translation )

Jin Di was always two to three steps behind her, holding an umbrella, silently watching her jumping like a bird in the rain.

His thoughts drifted back to the afternoon, when he was in Zhang Qiao's office, what Zhang Qiao had said. ​​

"The treatment plan that I previously considered might have worked. It seems that Miss Zuo has really affected you a lot. If you two continue to be together, your allergy might recover very quickly. At that time, you can get married and have children like a normal man. "

This was the goal that he wanted to achieve the most in the beginning. However, when he really heard the news, he could not help but frown.

"Jin di! Have you taken a walk here before? "

Zuo Aiai, who was walking in front, suddenly turned around and called out to him, interrupting his thoughts.

He narrowed his eyes and saw that her hair was slightly wet. He was about to scold her, but the next moment, he saw the smile on her face, which was unprecedentedly bright and brilliant.

He was stunned for a second. When he came back to his senses, his face had already become much gentler.

He looked in the direction she was pointing at. The calm surface of the river rippled slightly as the raindrops fell. It was as if a mischievous fairy had gently stepped on the surface of the water, leaving behind a trace... ...

The neon lights on the Riverside Bridge flickered and reflected on the surface of the water. It just so happened to form an oval shape, connected to the lights that were as brilliant as the Sea of stars in the distance.

He was lost in his thoughts again... ...

"Isn't it very beautiful? " The smile on her face was a little smug.

He remembered that in his office previously, she stood on a sea of lights, like an angel stepping on the stars... ... And told him with a smile ...

I knew it would be beautiful to eat dinner here.

That was the first time someone told him to look at the place where he worked every day and night from a different angle. In fact, there would be a different kind of scenery... ...

It was the same this time. This girl seemed to let him see a different side of his life every time.

During the few days when Jin di left, she had actually been taking a walk around and found that this sea was when she came back the night before last.

She saw that Jin di was looking at everything in front of him in a daze, and then she shook her head slightly.

She suddenly felt a faint heartache for this man.

Sometimes, money really wasn't everything in life. If a person was just a money-making machine, then his life would actually be more miserable than other people who enjoyed the beauty and happiness of an ordinary life... ... than others ...

Because although Zuo Aiai wasn't a money-making machine, before she was twenty years old, she didn't know how to discover these subtle and ordinary beauty. Every day, she was immersed in material things and vanity... ...

One day, when she woke up from all this flashiness, she learned to ignore the looks of others and live the way she liked and enjoyed the most... ...

Even if others thought it was terrible, she didn't regret it for even a second.

"I think the biggest value of living in such a good place is actually this beautiful scenery. If you can't appreciate it often, then that house is just an expensive building... "

"What about your little flower shop? To you, that flower shop could have been sold to earn a bigger profit. The value of that area was already very high five years ago... "

He remembered the detailed records of her investigation at that time. Five years ago, because Lin Huiyue and Zuo Yunyun had arrived at the Zuo family home, her and her mother, Mo Chen, had already had a difficult time.

[ recommend readers who have always been very supportive of me. Nanting Liuguang's article, chasing his wife 99 times: A good horse will always return to the grass. Thank you for all the tips and messages you have given me. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *