This Star is from Earth

So I'm an Artist

"Ding-dong~ Ding-dong~"

Han Jue heard the doorbell and subconsciously walked over.

After taking two steps, he stopped abruptly.

This is not my own home!

Han Jue pursed his lips, first took a deep breath to calm his violently beating heart, calmed himself down, and then moved slowly, lying on the sofa like a thief, twisting his head and staring at the door.

In his plan, if someone opens the door and comes in, he immediately pretends to sleep.

Before Han Jue decided that if nothing else, this room was his foothold in this world.

And now, perhaps, an accident has come.

The doorbell rang a few times, but finally it didn't ring again.

Han Jue supported his head and listened for a while, then relieved.

However, the mobile phone placed on the coffee table suddenly rang.

'From Monday to Sunday, you are so fragile.~'

The mobile phone ringtone is a cappella of a female voice, the sound quality is not good, it is obviously recorded, the voice is very good, but Han Jue has no intention of paying attention to this.

The voice was not high, but it was enough to startle Han Jue.

Han Jue quickly fumbled on the side of the phone for a while, turned it to mute, and prayed that the people outside the door did not hear.

Looking at the screen displayed is 'number 7343', such a strange caller name.

Just as Han Jue was guessing whether the caller was the person outside the door, a sound of keys colliding sounded.

Han Jue's scalp was numb!

Put the phone back on the coffee table, tumble over, and flutter back onto the couch as a deep sleep.

The door opened.

The person who came walked in directly without changing his shoes.

A cheerful advertisement was being played on the TV, but the sound of leather shoes stepping on the floor still clearly reached Han Jue's ears.

Han Jue felt that his back was already sweating.

The person who came walked to Han Jue's side, and Han Jue could even feel a fiery gaze resting on his face. It made his face itchy.

The phone on the coffee table no longer vibrates.

Between TV commercials and advertising connections, there was a moment of silence.

Han Jue felt that his heartbeat was almost the loudest in the room.

He is not a rookie, he pretended to be sick, pretended to sleep, and pretended to die when he was urged to draft in his previous life, all of which were through a hundred battles.

Don't blink your eyes frequently, don't breathe quickly, and endure itchiness on your face. It could be a long time or it could be a while.

Landlord? Or cohabiting? It's over, run or kill him?

When Han Jue was still thinking with his eyes closed, someone came into the bedroom.

Then came the sound of the cabinet opening and closing, and a few seconds later, the person walked back to the sofa.

Han Jue felt something fly to his face.

What a thing!

Han Jue shot up, thinking that he had been attacked, and threw the thing covering his head to the ground.