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When I really shed my robe, I only left a cloak on the bed, and Zong Zhenglin did not understand it. How could she follow her heart for no reason.

Fang squatted down and the quilt lay down, the woman carrying her body, and the little buttocks moved, and she plunged into his arms.

I just yelled at the woman who "doesn't want to marry you." At this moment, he was so rude that he called his mouth. "Your elbow top is not comfortable, and it is good to lift it to the bottom of the pillow."

The man breathed a meal behind him. After half a squatting, the strong and powerful arms really lifted her head, and she put her in the arms and told her to sleep peacefully.

In the ear is her soft and shallow nose, Zong Zhenglin's dark and heavy ink, the sight of her hair falling on her white robes, the brilliance of the brilliance.

After she made a fuss, he wanted to understand her intentions. This woman, the jealousy that would have spawned in each other, was awkward and gave birth to the face through awkwardness. It was like she was squatting on his lap, and the shin was slightly stinging, and he stabbed him with a thorn. Fortunately, she is rather willing to face the two people are not happy, not willing to be angry. Fortunately, he and her temperament.

She dared to be offended in front of him, she believed him. And he is more open and frank than her... Zong Zhenglin closed his eyes.

The left hand touched her arm and slowly slipped until she reached her wrist before moving her fingertips. When she came back, she was out of control...

In the dream, many pictures flowed past, the most profound, still fixed in the man's robes, throwing away the back of "her" alone.

Such indifferent figure, like an old scroll, has a dull color and even a slight outline. It can be like melting into the blood of the bones, and then light, also called "she" feels that if touched, it is the bones of the cold.

Not her. Half-awake and half-awake, Mu Xiyao stunned, such deep despair and sorrow, from that memory. The gray sky in the dream, the pattering, the endless rain, the dripping, is the woman’s heart for the rest of her life.

This is her first time, in the dream of "being immersive", to understand the master of this body of the last generation, how to be depressed and depressed for a man. The emperor's house in the memory of "her" is actually a broken yard.

She is standing in a strange courtyard. I want to come to the small courtyard where the "she" is a waiter. The old banyan tree was bare and withered. The flower buds under the trunk, scattered with a few pots of hibiscus. On the other side, it is an old car.

Something depressed under my heart, this reminds me that "she" is the pain of three years of suffering. This is a mottled glaze, with only the children wearing old clothes and a long life lock on the side. In the hustle and bustle of the courtyard, only this car and the things in the room, still bring some warm colors.

The woman buried her heart, and the last thoughts, I am afraid that the three children who were not with her.

Her footsteps were a bit heavy, and she slowly stepped up the steps in her "her" dream. Very unwilling, like being touched by people, Mu Xiyao only feels like being tied up, tied her to the main house.

In the wide open door, a sudden voice came out. It is the "green tone" that Qingzhou sings widely. The beat slowly and slowly, and the tail sounds long. In the empty courtyard of the uninhabited, there is a kind of creepy horror.

The shoulders have already been wet, and the water droplets on the slate under the feet are soaked in the satin of the embroidered shoes, and the cold water is soaked from the soles of the feet.

Finally, I climbed to the last level of stone steps, and then settled in the footsteps. I saw the east corner of the main house. A woman was wearing a bun, holding a handle, sitting in an armchair, facing her sideways, alone. Low and low tune, slowly combing long hair.

My heart suddenly hurts. Mu Xiyao frowned, the pain of the cone heart, like the body will get, too real.

Just after the time, the little woman around me suddenly had a movement.

When Zong Zhenglin’s nephew was opened, he was able to see the people in front of him with his brilliance.

She curled up and curled her hands in her heart. The expression on her face was extremely mournful, her eyelashes were moving, and her eyes were tearing down.


The man suddenly clears his mind. She was so weak, and when she saw it, she called his heartbeat and missed it.

"Jiaojiao." Half-sitting up and holding the person in his arms, the thumb wiped away the tear marks for her, Zong Zhenglin's eyebrows wrinkled, leaning over and gently calling her.

The dream suddenly trembled. Like being screwed, the view in front of the eyes swirled across the whirlpool. Only the woman sitting in the room, slowly picking up her hair, a pair of empty eyes, like looking at her, as if looking through her outside the courtyard.

At that moment, the four eyes were opposite, and Mu Xiyao’s heart was shocked.

No soul.

The woman is like a shackle from the soul, sullen and lifeless. The face is similar to her three-pointer, but her face is hard and hard.

Yes. She has never been more aware of the current dream than this moment. In the midst of it, it can be sensed, and the "human" in front of you is the projection of the soul. With only memories, there is nothing else next to it.

"Xi Yao." I don't know where there is a cry, the picture of the dream begins with the woman, tearing away like a spider web.

"Xi Yao." Blinking again, his eyes seem to be sore, but in front of him, it is the handsome face of his Jianmei.

Zong Zhenglin. Only in the dream, I saw her.

Finally, she woke up and confronted her, and the man holding her arm slightly tightened. "Jiaojiao?"

Too unusual. What is it that makes people laugh in her dreams?

"It’s not like this under the temple." The heart really hurts a bit. It seems that the remnant is not harmful to her.

The corners of the eyes are moist and the side of the face is slightly tight. Is it tears? Fang wanted to raise his hand and rubbed his eyes, but he was wrapped in the palm of the man, asking her to instinctively look up to see him.

"What is hurting." She was clear, and she was soft, and he took it. This is done in the face of affection, telling her that she is already uncomfortable. When I call her, it is really embarrassing.

"I seem to have dreamed that I am singing in the house. There is an empty cradles in the garden. There is no one on the side. The small courtyard is very ruined and I have not seen you." The little hand clasped his clothes. The head was buried deep in his arms.

"His Royal Highness, I feel... very cold."

Suddenly, the heart stabbed. With a thin hand on her hair top, Zong Zhenglin's eyes were dark, and too many emotions were suppressed and restrained.

Bowing down to her face, the man warmed his breath and slammed on his forehead.

Is his distrust, telling her to think about it, and listening to the words of Wanshi?

He was firmly attached to his chest, and the eyebrows were all gently touched by the man. The lip was still soaked, but she was told to soften her body and rely on his arms.

She was caught in a dream, and she was the first to encounter this thing. I don't know if it is related to yesterday, but if I am wronged, I must let him know and share it.

The heart is secretly concealed, but the ear is low and the man’s heavy words are heard.

"Isn't it. I won't be sad again."

In the last world, the dream is worth it, and the ending will never be her.



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