Slag Girl Illustrated Book
Chapter 1153: Tianzun Gongya
He frowned slightly, alas, why bother.
His nasal voice is a little heavy: "What did I do wrong, you said I changed it."
She closed her eyes and forced herself to be more cruel.
The more silent, the more uncomfortable Arayi: "Ruan Ruan, let's not break up, okay, we will go to the Netherlands to get married now, and we will be married there for the rest of our life, and none of them can do anything about it."
"Arayi, I always feel that whether it is a relationship or marriage, one cannot be the premise of sacrificing one party. You have sacrificed too much for me, but originally, you don't have to be like that."
What she said in the dark was like a blunt knife, slamming into his heart.
"It's all my willingness."
Ruan Xihe pressed his lips, suddenly rolled over, supporting the bed with one hand.
"God Yi."
The man also froze for a moment. He was clearly sad and desperate just now, but now?
Thunder and lightning flashed outside the house, and the moist drizzle was weighed down.
The old man used the pump in his hand to pump up the dry tires of the car. The rain was heavy and the tires were quickly wetted.
The air puffed into the tires.
The tire swelled up quickly, and one hand could hardly hold it.
The old man squeezed the tire with his hand. It was good, full of air, strong, and ready to go on the road.
He got up and got in the car.
The ride felt uncomfortable, so he adjusted the seat.
Bicycle tires ran over a patch of bare pink land.
The soil is too soft, and the color is also beautiful, but it is sticky and tight, and the rain gradually settles heavier.
The old man was worried that this piece of land would be assimilated with the swamp, and it would be completely sinked in by then, but he really couldn't pull it out.
He could only ride harder and harder. The bike was bumpy and the storm became fiercer, and the land became muddy and milky white foam.
Every time the wheels roll, they are stained with rain and pink dirt.
That color is so beautiful.
The blue-purple pattern on the tire also became clearer.
The old man's forehead was sweaty, and the wind and rain were too great. He really couldn't ride. The tires of that car were almost completely stuck in the mud. He had to get out of the car and drag with his hands.
The wind whizzed so hard that he couldn't open his eyes. The weather was too rapid and bursting, making him dumb and unable to say a word.
Holding the little wheel that was still exposed with both hands, he gritted his teeth and moved out.
But the soil is too sticky, it is really made out, the marshland is sinking deeper as it struggles.
He tied the handle of the car with a rope to borrow strength, but everything was useless.
The old man's feet also began to fall into the swamp, and he finally panicked a little.
But it was too late.
The ground was sunken, swallowing him and the bicycle slowly falling bit by bit.
Over the torso, over the neck, over the nerve endings, the extreme wrapping, the darkness sinks.
In the room, God was absent-minded.
The red mark on the wrist hasn't subsided until now.
At this moment, the little tie has been thrown on the floor tiles, and the warmth has dispersed cleanly.
Ruan Xihe came out of the shower, pressing one knee on the mat.
Looking condescendingly at Allahyi.
"You go back."
"I won't go back, my legs are soft." He pulled the quilt directly over his head.
Ruan Xihe chuckled lightly.
Lift the quilt on one side and drill inside.
A wide, thinly callused hand stretched out the quilt.
After a while, a white and slender hand came out along the arm, slowly slid across the confusing texture and wrist, and finally covered the big hand, clasping his fingers.
After the dull sound.
The slender fingers tightened suddenly.
.................................................. ...............
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