Part 4 (Four)
He pushed to open the door and took her into the room.
“Take a look this music sheet, then sing out the song for me to listen.” He removed the music sheet from the piano and gave it to her.
“That’s right.” He wants to hear her singing voice.
“But…how my ball.” In other words, she is not coming to sing a song for him to listen.
“I understand.” He said so but his expression exposure completely showing different.
His sharp glance, seeing how she scared of him till she is shivering. Feng Xiao Ling shoulders shrinking and shrinking, accepting her fate then head down and look at the music sheet.
On half an hour later, when she is singing Capella of the song, he lowered his head and shut his eyes closed, listened thoughtfully.
How can that petite body have such special sound? Han Yue Yi listened carefully to the music that he composed. He wants to feel strong mood, even it might violent or unscrupulous, and it really doesn’t matter for him.
Even her singing skill is not perfect, even if she can’t accurate grasp the rhythm, still he wanting to hear her singing voice of the music he composed.
His vision line, unconsciously paused at her slender neck. Her small neck, it seems as long as his hand put little strength, it will break easily. But—-it has explosive sound inside.
Surrounded the inside room, her singing voice gradually cease, when the song come to end, Feng Xiao Ling is gulping her saliva, clearing her throat, “ If I been allowing, I still have to go to find the ball…”
To say, the ball with signature might in her embrace now.
“Is this the ball you are looking for?” he asked.
She busying nodding, her face filled with grateful look, “Really thank you, the ball found, Xiao Liang will be happy. Mr. Han, you are one big good person!”
“Good person?” He mocking then laughing, he walked toward her, getting closer to her.
Unconsciously she stepped backward.
He continued to approach her, while she continued to step backward. It repeating and repeating until her back touched cold wall.
“All this time there is no one said I am good person!” his big palm pressed the wall, imprisoned her and narrow her range, “Normally there only people who are hating me, hate to death, or people who loved me love till death. So which types are you?”
She dumbfounded staring at him, she being intimating by his words. His head hanging lower, very low so that closer to her face, her bangs, so much drawn back to her forehead.
That pair of lively and abstruse eyes, glancing as if want to absorb completely everything, letting she could not to resist, her mind stayed blank.
He—- is the devil or an angel?