Yan Tao wandered out, wandering casually on the street.

Aocheng is an ancient city.

A city that combines Gothic architecture with traditional Chinese architecture, and has many iconic attractions.

There are many peace doves in the Peace Square in the city center.

White, gray, many tourists hold a hand of bread crumbs to feed.

But often as soon as they walked over, the doves of peace flapped their wings and rushed to the sky in large numbers. When the tourists left, the doves carefully landed to pick up the bread crumbs to eat.

Young Master Yan stood behind the statue, avoiding crowded places, suddenly she smiled, raised her arms, and opened her lips.

The melodious whistle sounded clear and lingering, and was sent out along the wind.

Peace Square has always been a place where people gather, street vagabonds, performers, painters, everyone.

They were playing intoxicated by themselves, making money, or pulling people to sell themselves, but for a moment, they saw a large scene of pigeons flapping their wings and flying from the corner of their eyes.

In the past, these pigeons all scattered and fled.

But at this moment, reflecting the golden light of the setting sun, they flew to the feet of the tall young man standing under the peace sculpture.

Then silently folded its wings and hovered at his feet.

Facing the light, he couldn't see clearly the boy's appearance.

I can only form a vague first impression from her tall and straight figure and Gao Hua's demeanor.

He should be a young man with a handsome face and a lazy temperament.

She turned slightly to avoid the pigeons that almost hit her, and a gentle smile slowly appeared on her lips.

The pigeons who dominate the Peace Square are obediently like cats in front of the boy, just circling around the boy.

Only a little newborn pigeon staggered and spread its wings, and flew up again and again, but it couldn't fly very far. It jumped impatiently, and its soft feathers exploded. The tourists who watched were a little anxious.

"Cuckoo!"

"Cuckoo, cluck!"

The little pigeon was spinning around in a hurry, unable to fly with fluttering wings.

Yan Tao lowered her eyes and glanced, and suddenly, with a chuckle, she walked out from the backlight, her slender legs wrapped in black trousers, making her figure even more proportionate.

She pursed her lips slightly, with a slight sneer between her brows, she knelt down and waved at that silly and cute little pigeon.

The boy's sky-defyingly good-looking side face fell into the eyes of everyone in the square, causing an uproar of amazement.

The artist held the paintbrush and stared blankly at Yantao. The bean-sized paint was dripping on the drawing paper, but he didn't notice it.

He just opened his eyes wide and exclaimed, "Oh my God...he is a perfect work of art."

The child grabbed his mother's hand and danced, "Mom, mom, that brother is so good-looking! I want to be as good-looking as him when I grow up!"

The mother's eyes were mixed with amazement and love, and it took a while before she spoke, mercilessly strangling the little boy's dream in the cradle: "Don't think about it, just your father's genes, this life is impossible!"

"Wow!"

The little boy's heart was ashamed, and he burst into tears.

The little boy's father... I am also ashamed.

I never knew my wife hated me so much.

However, my wife still loves me.

Then he heard his mother hold her heart in pain, "Why! Why don't you let me be born ten years later!"

Dad... the heart is gone.

Yan Tao pointed at the little pigeon and said in a nice voice, "Little idiot, come here."

The little pigeon jumped up and down with all its strength, and then heard a flapping sound, and it flew up!

Everyone was stunned.

Can there be such a showy operation?

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