Black Lotus Tactics Manual

Ling Miaomiao slowly bowed her shirt skirt and laced up, sat at the dressing table, dreaded her braid against the mirror, and her bun was soft and collapsed. She looked left and right, and pouted with dissatisfaction: Now. "

Her fingertips traced the face of the teenager reflected in the mirror, and then nodded: "You, help me."

Mu Sheng approached her silently and turned back in amazement. It seemed that she didn't understand how the person in the mirror could appear in reality.

Mu Sheng took hold of her soft hair bun, took it apart, and then dipped her hair with a comb to brush her hair.

The girl in the mirror is not noisy and noisy, but looks curiously with a pair of deer-like apricot eyes, obediently like a doll.

"I don't want this." She suddenly earned it.

"What?" He moved slightly, his black eyes looking into the mirror.

"Don't want this smell." She pinched her nose.

He suddenly realized that she was talking about the hair on his comb, and the gardenia had a strong fragrance.

He looked down at the comb, slightly confused: "You used to comb your hair."

"I don't like it in my childhood," she said angrily. "I don't like it either."

He suddenly froze, put down the comb, took her a few strands of hair and sniffed, and his eyes were dizzy: "I don't like it ... I used to lie to you."

"Really?"

"Really."

"Well, I like it too." The face in the mirror suddenly turned clear, and my eyes rolled with a smile. "I like it too."

The corner of the teenager's lips bent slightly, only a moment, and the kiss fell on her hair, and immediately squatted down. He fell on one knee and kissed her side.

Ling Miaomiao leaned her head and tapped the mirror with her fingertips: "Tie your hair."

He let go of her reluctantly: "Okay, tie your hair."

The smoke rose from the incense burner, so quiet that you could hear the chirping birds singing outside.

He combed his bun for a quarter of an hour, which was still too short. His hands were a little trembling when he put on a ribbon. Fortunately, he was quite proficient in putting his own hair band, and the last bow was beautiful and strong.

Ling Miaomiao looked at the braid in the mirror, her face picky: "It's even crooked than me."

"..." He held her bent bun and looked at the mirror inquiringly, "Come again?"

"No." She raised her chin and shook her head.

"Then don't need it." His eyes were dark and moist, and his lips were pursed for a long while, promising, "It will get better and better in the future."

Ling Miaomiao narrowed her eyes and yawned. This is the side effect of Qing Gu, and he feels ill all day long. The teenager stretched his hands behind her, ignoring her struggles, hugged her around her and settled on the bed.

"I don't want to sleep." She braced herself and played with a few black jade beads nailed to his clothes.

His hand was covered on the back of her hand, holding her hand, "rest, you will have energy when you eat."

"Oh." She pulled her hand back obediently, overlapping her abdomen, her eyelashes trembling.

Mu Sheng's face was slightly pale, and he looked at her with a complex expression: "Remember what you will say in a while, remember?"

"Uh." She nodded.

"Do you want to practice it again?"

She paused and turned her head: "No."

The teenager forced her face back, for sure: "Practice again."

"..." She blinked and poked his chest, "You will be uncomfortable."

"..." Gentle suddenly swayed in his eyes, "It won't be sad anymore."

She clenched her teeth and shook her head. He no longer demanded, lowered his eyes, stretched his hand to care for her forehead hair, and smiled invisiblely: "If you like it, it is really harder than going to the sky."

Ling Miao fell asleep in the tent, he sat at the table, took off the pen from the pen holder, and the pasted notes, marriage letter, and appointment letter should be written in the past.

"Tuk Tuk Tuk—" He put down the pen to open the door, and Xiao Er came upstairs sweating with a big yellow-billed black-winged bird. The bird was still flirting and instigating his wings. When he opened the door, he was happy: "Son, you want the goose. You see, the spirit is very big."

The teenager lifted his wings to watch it for a long while, nodded, and handed him a piece of gold. The second boy thanked him, and thrust himself into his arms.

"When will Yanhe letter be delivered to you? The postman has returned, and it will take three days for the quick horse to whip less, and the boat will be in the middle."

His voice was low: "Enough. Take care of it on the road."

"it is good……"

"Child period!"

He turned back suddenly, Ling Miaomiao ran to him barefoot carrying a bi-colored skirt, pointing at the bird that instigated his wings briskly said: "I want this wild goose!"

"Yo, Miss Ling." Xiaoer fell with a smile. "This ... this is the wild goose."

Confused innocent on her face, she tilted her head and repeated: "I want this wild goose."

"..." Xiao Er's expression froze a bit, and always felt that this girl looked strange, not as flexible as the previous few days, and hadn't reacted to him before. She returned to bed and covered it with a tent. She still struggled by pointing at the wild goose, "I want ..."

Mu Sheng hurried back, gave him another piece of gold, and whispered: "This one stays, then go find one."

He glanced inwardly again, and touched the boy's gloomy warning eyes, feeling like he was strangled by his neck, and quickly closed his eyes: "Ok ..."

Ling Miaomiao squatted on the ground and poked her yellow beak carefully with her finger.

"Gha--" It was annoying, and he cried weakly, his voice hoarse.

The girl smiled, her eyes bent like a small animal. In front of them were two small dishes, one of which contained a little clear water, and the other a tired blade of grass. She twisted a piece of grass and tried it at the beak of the big bird. Don't eat. "

Mu Sheng looked at her face intently and only said: "Just slowly."

"Does it not like being caught?" She looked up nervously. "Let's put it back ..."

Mu Sheng's fingertips fell on her cheeks, rubbing a little, "Where to put it back?"

"Where do you come from, where do you go ..."

"Let's put it?" He smiled meaninglessly: "Miao Miao, this is a gift that I sent the scratch."

She paused, and she was distracted: "What is the grass paste?"

He looked at her deeply and hesitated: "Letter to your father."

"Daddy ..." She seemed to remember something, sitting at the table, suddenly covered her head, "Daddy ..."

"... What's wrong?" He grabbed her wrist nervously, and there was a glimmer of light in her eyes, and the whole person was still.

The world was silent for two or three seconds.

Face to face, her hands slowly dropped from her head.

"I'm going to write to Dad too." She squeezed her lips slightly and took the pen from the pen holder. She started writing a little bit on the ink and paved paper he had just studied.

Mu Sheng looked down, she wrote fast, and repeated only two sentences:

"Daddy: I ​​like the childhood, I am willing to marry the childhood"

"I like childhood, I am willing to marry childhood"

"I like childhood, I am willing to marry ..."

There was a sudden shock in his heart, clutching her wrist, "Don't write ..."

"Don't stop me from writing a letter to my dad ..." She still struggled, drawing out the last stroke, slanting the red grid, as if cutting the entire letter paper.

He finally took the pen from her hand, and there was a little ink on their clothes. She glanced down at her dark hands, stunned for a few seconds, and rubbed on his clothes in disgust.

"..." Mu Sheng looked down at her hand.

She wiped her hands cleanly and restlessly, suddenly rubbing him around his neck and rubbing him, it seemed very irritable, her lips repeatedly touched his face, Mu Sheng pulled the person away, and her fingers pressed against her lips, violating Wonderful, wait ... "

His thumb flicked repeatedly on her ruddy lips, as if it could hope Meimei to quench her thirst. "Wait again."

It's just ... when to wait ... after seven days?

Will he still have a chance.

Ling Miaomiao was tired, so he buried his head in his arms and said hatefully: "You apologize to me."

The tone and emotion of the words were very similar to the original one, making him froze, and then excited and trembling rose at the same time, even daring to look down at her face, his eye feathers tremble, "Apologize ? "

"Say you are wrong, you should not use this method for me."

"..." He lowered his head in an instant, "Miao Miao?"

The people in his arms were still loose, playing with their fingers.

The seventh day had not yet arrived, and indeed everything was his illusion. It was hard to say that he was relieved or deeply lost.

He hugged the man on his lap, redrawn a piece of paper, circled her and wrote.

Her head was tilted. From his perspective, she crossed her hair top and saw her white nose and blinking eyelashes. "How do you write to my father on my behalf?"

He raised the corner of his mouth and wrote, "Why should I write?"

The second son, Mu, asked to marry Ling Yu, the only daughter of Linglu Mountain in Taicang County.

The young talents are of equal family background, and the words and phrases are all modest and appropriate. His character board is clear, and he is as powerful and confusing as he is, making people mistakenly think that this will be a bright and decent good boy worth trusting.

Through a thin piece of paper, Yue Zhang could almost see a satisfied smile.

Before writing, he left two lines blank, gave her the pen, and tapped a piece of paper with his fingertips: "Write here."

"..." She stared at the vacant lines and did not move.

His lips were close to her ears, with a patiently coquettish taste: "Write the two sentences you just wrote."

For a father who only loves his daughter, what family morals are the words of others, the pro-daughter's approval is the pinnacle of the red stamp.

Ling Miaomiao squeezed the pen tightly, but did not fall: "You apologize to me."

The young man laughed and lowered his head to kiss her hair: "I was wrong."

Ling Miao Miao paused, wrote a line of text, picked up the pen, and started playing with her fingers.

Mu Sheng looked down and only five words were written on the paper: "I hate childhood."

"..." He didn't speak other words. He took another piece of paper and transcribed it more neatly. Before making the payment, he left two lines blank and put the pen in her hand. "Write well."

Ling Miaomiao pursed her lips: "Apologize."

He wondered why she was so obsessed with apology, and casually coaxed, "I was wrong."

She gritted her teeth and wrote more scribbled than before.

"I hate childhood."

"..." He smoked another piece of paper.

He never thought that one day when he would be so patient, as if as long as she didn't stop, the game would loop indefinitely. And he has no complaints.

The pen gave her, she was a little tired, and yawned: "Apologize first."

He covered his long eyelashes, opened her hair, kissed her earlobe, and carried a bit of paranoia in her tone: "... but I really like you."

"Snapped……"

She dropped the pen and the ink splashed. It seemed that she hadn't had enough of it. She picked it up and grabbed it in her hand. The squirrel swelled her cheek like a nut and broke it a few times without breaking.

Mu Sheng took the pen, clicked it in his hand, folded it in front of her, and looked at her with watery eyes: "Did you get angry?"

Ling Miaomiao stared at him, as if trying to break him off like a pen.

He picked up a few wolves from the pen stand and lined them up, don't care: "If not enough, I will help you fold a few more ..."

Ling Miaomiao didn't finish listening, and suddenly fell into his arms, biting on his shoulder, he pressed the person tightly in his arms, she kicked and hit and scratched, using a bit of force on her teeth, bit There was blood on his clothes.

The pain on his shoulder came suddenly, and he glanced through the strange glory in his eyes——

At this moment she was just like her, Ling Miao Miao who was just tempered on the outside and fangs on her teeth. Sour and dazed.

The sun fell on the top of her chestnut hair, and the broken hair seemed to be covered with warm golden edges. She reached down and shot down his bamboo dragonfly: "It ’s like a dragonfly because of the wind. Controlling it with a spell makes it a puppet. How is it different from other puppets? "

It turned out that the more sinking and the more empty, he always missed her.

Dragonflies and puppets are different after all.

He held her calmly, his black eyes flickering, slightly inaudible, "I was wrong."

The man in his arms won't earn a meal: "You, let go of the wild goose in a while."

"……Ok."

She paused, dumbfounded: "Write another one."

"..." He lowered his head, and Ling Miaomiao's Xingzi eyes also looked at him, blinking.

He spread the paper and copied it three times, and he was already familiar with it.

Two lines left before the payment, Ling Miaomiao grabbed the pen from his hand and lay down on the table to knock down the red stamp.

"Dad, I like the childhood. I am willing to marry the childhood."