The True Mistress Has A Thousand Hidden Identities

Chapter 947:

But Huo Baiyuan didn't speak any more. He didn't promise or refuse. He just looked away indifferently, bypassed Song Lishu, and stepped upstairs.

Song Lishu turned to look at Huo Baiyuan's back.

Tomorrow, what does she want to tell him?

Tell him that she didn't want to marry him. She didn't use any means to climb onto his bed and told him that he stayed with her during the six months he disappeared.

Maybe I can say it, maybe not.

In fact, she just wanted to sit in the sweet dessert shop with Huo Baiyuan as before.

I hope that Huo Baiyuan can change back to her Ayuan for the last time.

Early in the morning, Song Lishu got up early, opened the closet, and looked at the scattered clothes inside. It seemed that there was nothing to choose from.

She came to Huo's house empty-handed, basically did not go out, and had never bought clothes, only a few pieces of different seasons, back and forth repeatedly.

But in the end, Song Lishu changed into a pale pink dress.

She put on light makeup, combed the silky hair neatly, and draped it over her shoulders. Her cheek sunken in the mirror. Even with makeup, she was not pretty.

Having packed everything up early, she sat on the side of the bed and did nothing.

She had no appetite for lunch, and waited until the afternoon when Song Lishu went out early.

She first went back to the rental house, took out the tin box from the cabinet, put a diary in the tin box and locked it, and then stuffed it under the bed.

Standing at the door, Song Lishu could see this small rental house at a glance. She and Huo Baiyuan used to live here.

Song Lishu clutched the water cup tightly, his face turned pale, and he quickly stepped back two steps, tripped on his heel, and sank down on the steps, looking embarrassed.

What is Huo Baiyuan thinking? What kind of method did she think of to make her just right?

murder? accident?

Song Lishu only felt like he had become a prisoner, accepting the death sentence.

Maybe she will never see the sun tomorrow.

Song Li didn't drink the water, and almost fled back to the room.

She was paralyzed on the cold ground, the empty glass fell aside, and she held her head tightly with her hands, feeling that the torment in her heart was far greater than her body.

Gradually into autumn, the weather began to cool down.

Song Lishu was lying on the bed, flipping the calendar on the phone, her exposed arm was as thin as a pole, covered in skin and bones, and there was no meat at all. The cheeks on both sides were also deeply recessed, and the eye circles were black.

The most obvious manifestation of the deterioration of the condition is that she has no appetite to eat, and sometimes it becomes hard, and she will be vomited out. Her body starts to hurt every inch, so that she can hardly sleep, her weight drops rapidly, and her breathing is exhausted.

Song Lishu's eyes fixed on a certain date in the calendar.

It was her birthday, just a week later.

Last year, before her birthday, Huo Baiyuan recovered his memory, and it was a pity that he had not been able to spend time with him.

This year...is it all right?