Interstellar Rebirth to Save the Husband
Chapter 69 Writing a Review 2
Chapter 69 Writing a Review 2
People who didn't know thought she was practicing some kind of secret high-level spirit-hunting technique. How could it be seen that she was trying hard to write?
"The writing posture is wrong."
A certain long-legged Ouba stepped in, and the military uniform on his body had been replaced by white soft silk pajamas. The pajamas were very close-fitting and smooth, fully showing his tall and stalwart but not rough figure.
"Can it be written without handwriting?"
Hua Canling raised his head, his tears were wet, and he said very aggrieved.
"No, get up, sit on a chair and write." A certain Highness did not compromise at all, and his tone was very cold.
"Who invented writing with a pen? How could such a brain-dead thing happen? Obviously using a watch, you can record while talking, and even connect brain waves to form text on the star network. Why is there such a thing?" The way of writing? I have never used a pen to write, dear husband, husband, husband, Your Highness, great patron saint, please forgive me this time, please?"
Hua Canling threw the pen away, got up, threw herself at Xing Ji's feet and hugged his calf, acting coquettishly and begging for mercy.
The red, delicate and charming little mouth is as sweet as honey, and one name after another is so tiresome that people burst out, and the ice-cold face twitches and twitches, and the golden eyes bow their heads. Looking at his wife clinging to him like a little milk dog, his heart was so soft that it was very ironed.
It should have been so clingy to him long ago that he would spoil her to the sky.
In the next second, he pulled Hua Canling up.
Hua Canling secretly rejoiced, as expected, the trick of being cute and coquettish was useful.
The little face secretly smiled, laughing cheaply.
But in the next second, she was lifted to a chair by spiritual power and sat down. The pen and paper she threw away fell lightly on the table in front of her. At the same time, a man's irreversible cold voice came, saying: "Write."
"Ah!" Hua Canling's mean smile froze in astonishment, and howled plaintively, if he hadn't known in his previous life that this sullen and ruthless man in front of him loved her so much that he loved her so much that he didn't want his life Now this kind of iceberg face that is forcing her to use a pen to write a self-criticism without any room for change, she will definitely fight him to the death.
Xing Hao calmly took his wife with such a lively and bright expression into his eyes, and was extremely happy. He was not moved by her resentful little woman's expression at all, and put the pen into her hand, and said coldly: " Finish writing early and rest early."
The tone of voice is uncompromising, and she is not confused by the beauty at all.
"I don't know how to write, I really don't know how to write!" Hua Canling put down the pen and raised his hands in a gesture of surrender, with watery eyes and anxious eyes, he said pitifully and flatteringly: "Honey, I know I was wrong , I will never act alone again when I face ghosts, I must notify my dear to save me as soon as possible! Just let me go this time!"
As soon as the words fell, Hua Canling's body trembled a few times: Hey, mom, did this coquettish and charming voice really come from her mouth?Vomit~vomit~ Let her vomit first~~
For a person who picks up a pen as if holding a sword, chopping left and right on the paper, and dances for a long time, and has not even written the words of a self-criticism, but wastes paper. To me, this is simply the most horrific torture.
(End of this chapter)
People who didn't know thought she was practicing some kind of secret high-level spirit-hunting technique. How could it be seen that she was trying hard to write?
"The writing posture is wrong."
A certain long-legged Ouba stepped in, and the military uniform on his body had been replaced by white soft silk pajamas. The pajamas were very close-fitting and smooth, fully showing his tall and stalwart but not rough figure.
"Can it be written without handwriting?"
Hua Canling raised his head, his tears were wet, and he said very aggrieved.
"No, get up, sit on a chair and write." A certain Highness did not compromise at all, and his tone was very cold.
"Who invented writing with a pen? How could such a brain-dead thing happen? Obviously using a watch, you can record while talking, and even connect brain waves to form text on the star network. Why is there such a thing?" The way of writing? I have never used a pen to write, dear husband, husband, husband, Your Highness, great patron saint, please forgive me this time, please?"
Hua Canling threw the pen away, got up, threw herself at Xing Ji's feet and hugged his calf, acting coquettishly and begging for mercy.
The red, delicate and charming little mouth is as sweet as honey, and one name after another is so tiresome that people burst out, and the ice-cold face twitches and twitches, and the golden eyes bow their heads. Looking at his wife clinging to him like a little milk dog, his heart was so soft that it was very ironed.
It should have been so clingy to him long ago that he would spoil her to the sky.
In the next second, he pulled Hua Canling up.
Hua Canling secretly rejoiced, as expected, the trick of being cute and coquettish was useful.
The little face secretly smiled, laughing cheaply.
But in the next second, she was lifted to a chair by spiritual power and sat down. The pen and paper she threw away fell lightly on the table in front of her. At the same time, a man's irreversible cold voice came, saying: "Write."
"Ah!" Hua Canling's mean smile froze in astonishment, and howled plaintively, if he hadn't known in his previous life that this sullen and ruthless man in front of him loved her so much that he loved her so much that he didn't want his life Now this kind of iceberg face that is forcing her to use a pen to write a self-criticism without any room for change, she will definitely fight him to the death.
Xing Hao calmly took his wife with such a lively and bright expression into his eyes, and was extremely happy. He was not moved by her resentful little woman's expression at all, and put the pen into her hand, and said coldly: " Finish writing early and rest early."
The tone of voice is uncompromising, and she is not confused by the beauty at all.
"I don't know how to write, I really don't know how to write!" Hua Canling put down the pen and raised his hands in a gesture of surrender, with watery eyes and anxious eyes, he said pitifully and flatteringly: "Honey, I know I was wrong , I will never act alone again when I face ghosts, I must notify my dear to save me as soon as possible! Just let me go this time!"
As soon as the words fell, Hua Canling's body trembled a few times: Hey, mom, did this coquettish and charming voice really come from her mouth?Vomit~vomit~ Let her vomit first~~
For a person who picks up a pen as if holding a sword, chopping left and right on the paper, and dances for a long time, and has not even written the words of a self-criticism, but wastes paper. To me, this is simply the most horrific torture.
(End of this chapter)
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