Yan Ning is over fifty years old, but she looks young and looks in her early forties. He is personable, has a gentle voice, and teaches professional courses in a simple way. The general courses are fun to teach, and are popular with students. For ten years in a row, he has occupied a popular position in the Yuan election course.

Young students admired him, sacrificed paper notes, incense, and red ink pads, and wrote love letters to him line by line with a brush, in order to win love and start a soul-remembering year-end love.

The top students in the literature department are all love seedlings. According to the classics, Hua Zhang is brilliant. A piece of paper loves to write more carefully than a thesis. Just Yan Yan clips the book into the classroom, takes off the windbreaker, picks a scarf, and then supports the glasses. I can blow five pages.

A doctoral student brought by Yan Ning also wrote such an inadequate but affectionate confession in the acknowledgment part of his graduation thesis: Professor Yan, your pheromone is bitter and elegant, and it is a yellowed wire-bound book in the old bookstore. I was lucky enough to be your student for three lifetimes. I opened a few pages and saw your thoughts. Looking forward to the long future, time will still add fragrance to you.

The pursuit of the students was so enthusiastic, but none of them succeeded.

There are two reasons.

One is Yan Ning's own rejection, and the other is weird.

Every third time, there will be noise from nowhere, saying that Professor Yan has been married for more than 30 years, and his husband and wife are loving. Alpha is also a well-known business man with a wealthy family and assets of up to 10 billion.

The poor students in the school had no room for blood, but they were penniless. They were stunned by the news and lost.

Yan Ning is actually very clear about who released the news: Zheng Hongming took him as a furnishing for twenty years, and once the prodigal turned back, he went to fight with a group of young and stinky little hair children to be jealous and wise, and it was a miracle. .

After dinner, Yan Ning narrowed his eyes towards the blurred sunlight and yawned lazily, saying that he was sleepy and had to go back to his room for a nap. Zheng Hongming caught the opportunity to get close and followed him upstairs. He was politely blocked outside before he entered the door.

Zheng Feiyu laughed when he saw this.

But this brisk mood did not last long. After laughing, he leaned back solemnly on the back of the chair, looked at the white snow outside the window, and pressed the temples that were painful.

Twelve years have passed hurriedly since entering Jiusheng at the age of eighteen. In these twelve years, he has worked harder for Jiusheng than anyone else. But just for an Omega, the kingdom that belonged to him changed owners.

How ironic.

For twelve years, he devoted himself to his career and hardly ever enjoyed holidays. Now, he finally ushered in a long, endless holiday.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

The mountains and mountains are cold and the sky is clear.

A silver-gray sports car drove out of the Zheng family's gate, sped down the mountain road, turned sharply in the inner lane, and swept away a large fan-shaped snow and fog.

Speed ​​can often give people a feeling of lightness in weightlessness for a few seconds, temporarily reducing stress.

Zheng Fei stomped on the accelerator, galloped, and breathed the fresh air filled into his lungs, but he didn't know that this was about to become his last complete and sober 24 hours. The high concentration of soothing agent flowing in the blood gave him sufficient reason to make He was able to think calmly in front of his father and make choices that did not go against his own wishes, and at the same time overwhelmed ten or twenty times overdangering the precarious pheromone balance.

After returning to his downtown apartment, the 24-hour efficacy coverage period ended, the suppressed Alpha pheromone furiously counterattacked, and his spouse worsened at an unexpected rate.

In the early morning the next morning, Fei Zheng was awoken from a strange street corner.

He lifted his head from the steering wheel, his spine and scapula clucked for a long period of sitting, accompanied by sharp pain.

Through a layer of glass, snow was falling quietly outside the window.

The morning light in winter is like a person in winter, being lazy and not arriving early. The long street is still dark, and the tall and tall street lamps are erected one by one, illuminating the empty streets without people. Under the dim light, every piece of snow is dim yellow, falling white in the light, and black in the dark.

The fog was so heavy that it was gray and gushing in the sky. Looking further afield, the flagpole-like street lights disappeared, leaving only one shadow after another.

There are many old residential buildings along the street, low and scattered. At the bottom of the building is a row of shops, all of which are topped with tacky Song-like signboards and hung with old metal roll-up doors. Public trash cans are ugly dark green, plastic bags, disposable chopsticks, and degradable lunch boxes with soup are piled up, scattered all over the place, and buried in snow all night.

Where is he?

Looking at the dirty appearance of this street, I am afraid that it is some suburb of Yuanjiang.

The car was extremely cold, the sunroof glass was under heavy snow, and the air conditioner had stopped running. The instrument panel backlight is completely off, and the interior lights are completely off. Only the diligent IWC quartz watch also shows the current time:

05:30 AM.

Zheng Fei moved his fingers, his joints were frozen so inconveniently, his skin lost most of his touch, and he could not feel the leather texture on the steering wheel. He tried to start the car to warm up, but the engine was disturbed like a hibernating beast, grunting in his throat, complaining a few times, and then fell asleep again.

The air conditioner could not be turned on, and the temperature inside the car continued to drop, approaching the freezing point. He was wearing a thin shirt and waistcoat, and the cold had penetrated into his musculoskeletal bones, so cold that he couldn't stop shaking.

He lowered his head and clenched the steering wheel with both hands, but exhaled a hot nose.

Because the root cause of the tremor is not cold.