Jiu Ge’s Beloved Spirit

However, after going to college, Song Jing no longer needed her care.

The slow-responsive, limp little sheep had turned into a lazy and coquettish big white cat at some point.

Beautiful, beautiful, but ultimately very squeamish.

When he is happy, he will hum and respond to you. If he is unhappy, he will ignore you and be extremely cold.

In Qingdu University, the photos of such a sweet-looking but extremely cold-tempered junior student quickly went viral.

Many girls know that in the latest art department, there is a junior named Song Jing who is particularly good-looking.

Not only is he highly talented in art, he also has a cold temperament.

Someone wants to chase him, but...

I found out that the flower of Gaoling already had an owner, who was the boyfriend and childhood sweetheart of the goddess from the mathematics department.

Song Jing ignored everyone and often went to the door of the mathematics department classroom to wait for his girlfriend after class.

The cat-like boy would always lean outside the classroom lazily, waiting for someone in his pocket.

When it becomes a human, it will change from a cold cat to a sweet and cuddly cat.

He held his girlfriend's hand and smiled sweetly.

The girl next to him was so heartbroken that she wished she could become his girlfriend and rush up to rub him and kiss him.

Song Jing rarely pays attention to external affairs, so he doesn't know much about girls' enthusiasm for him.

Yun Si could see it, but rarely said anything.

After class, she dragged him away so as not to attract other girls to take pictures.

…

…

After the freshmen season is over, winter comes soon.

Kyungdoo University is located in the north, and the first snow falls at the end of November every year.

After the first snowfall, white snow will continue to accumulate on the grass and trees on the roadside and will not melt for a long time.

After it snowed, the weather became colder and colder.

The vast white snow was blown by the wind outside the window and hit the window, as if it had left the mark of hexagonal snowflakes on it.

The winter wind outside is strong, dry and cold, like a knife, which can make people's faces hurt.

The heater was on in the classroom, whirring, and the temperature reached a warm twenty-five degrees.

The professor was giving lectures above, and below, most of the students took off their coats and were listening to the lectures in their singlets.

This class was an introduction to art history. The professor talked about dry history, which made everyone feel sleepy.

By the window, the boy was sleeping on the table as usual, motionless.

He took off his pure white down jacket and put it on a chair nearby.

He was only wearing a thin white turtleneck sweater and thick fleece jeans.

The baby fat on his face faded away, and his features became clearer and clearer.

Reflecting the white snow outside, he closed his eyes, like a big white cat waving its tail and basking in the sun, lazily and motionless.

The professor was talking non-stop on the podium. His lips were red, his eyelashes were thick, and he slept quietly.

There is a textbook next to the table, which has not been opened at all, and I have not even taken notes.

A girl sitting in the row behind him looked at his back and then looked at the notes she had carefully made.

The pen cap was opened and closed, opened and closed, and his mind seemed not to be on the podium at all.

The classroom is warm and comfortable, which is perfect for taking a nap.

Everyone was drowsy, and several people were lying on the table.

Until the bell rang and the professor on the podium said the get out of class was over, a large piece of it fell instantly underneath, as wilted as eggplants in the ground.