Little Runaway Wife: President, Please Stop

Ye Qingcheng turned over comfortably, as if he had fallen asleep

Perhaps it was because he had not been so satisfied for a long time. Ye Qingcheng had a very long dream

She dreamed that outside an ancient castle illuminated by the sun, there was a swing made of rattan hanging on the dense trees, with many roses winding around it, pink, pink, white, very beautiful

A little girl with pink and jade carving sat on it, shaking her legs slightly, about 5 years old.

Her face is a kind of almost crystal pink white. Her big eyes are deep, but with the softness of the East. The small bridge of the nose and the small mouth with a slight toot, but with the clear outline of the West.

It has the domineering spirit and dignity of the Oriental world brocade, as well as the simplicity and purity of Ye Qingcheng, as well as the pure pride from the bone.

Goose yellow dress with many bows and light flowers.

In her small hand was a princess umbrella of the same color, with lace layers.

The broken golden sun seems to have covered everything with a dreamy halo. This scene seems to be transformed from a fairy tale.

At this time, a woman in Jane Eyre's skirt came out from the trees behind. She had a gray blue high waist skirt and a circle of white lace embroidery with a square collar on her chest.

Her dark chestnut hair was pulled up high, and only two strands of hair fell from both sides of her cheeks.

Her face is delicate and thin. It is the face of a typical Nordic woman. Her thin lips are a sign of coldness, and her jaw lines are fluent

Bai Jingli's gray eyes seem to have missed the focus, and can only see the slightly blue pupils. They look like skeletons walking in the ice desert.

Her hands were as rough as the bark of a dead tree.

When she came out, the originally bright sky slowly darkened in an instant, and the whole world was a little cold.

Ye Qingcheng seemed to be fixed in place. She stood in the distance and her steps were nailed to the ground.

"Mom..."

The little girl suddenly opened her mouth and her voice was soft and waxy.

She was about to jump off the swing with that little umbrella.

Ye Qingcheng's hand tightly clung to the bushes next to her. She clearly wanted to go over and pick up the child, but her steps couldn't move anyway

"Oriental City..."

Bai Jingli's thin lips aroused a cold smile. She bent down and hugged the little girl who was about to run over.

"Both of you are... Dongfang Qingcheng..."

Bai Jingli smiled, hugged the child and stood there. The sky was gloomy, as if she could wring water out

Ye Qingcheng's eyes stared at Bai Jingli tightly, but her voice was broken, "don't touch her... She's my child... Don't touch her..."

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