Little Runaway Wife: President, Please Stop

The sun was great that day. Dongfang Shijin was wearing a dark gray nightgown and sitting in the kitchen for breakfast.

She was wearing slippers and her hair was messy. She saw the back of Dongfang Shijin and was boiling milk for her.

Her heart was very warm. She walked slowly almost subconsciously and gently hugged him from behind.

Good morning, Dongfang Shijin

[wake up so early? Don't you sleep a little longer? I'll finish it later and bring it to you.]

He seems to have faded his usual sharpness and indifference and become an ordinary man. He gets up in the morning and makes breakfast for his beloved woman.

Ye Qingcheng smiled slightly.

He put mushrooms in the porridge and stirred it. The air was filled with a faint smell of meat porridge.

He turned around gently, leaned against a corner of the stove and held Ye Qingcheng in his arms.

It was sunny that day, and a cluster of wild roses, green lawn and berry bushes almost meandering in the window.

Beautiful is like a fairy tale.

Perhaps it was that scene that made her remember so deeply that ye Qingcheng smiled and unconsciously shed tears.

Tears flow down, warm, that scene seems to be slowly becoming thin, blurred and blurred like a mirage.

She raised her hand to wipe her tears, recovered, opened the lid of the pot, and the noodles inside were almost cooked. She took the egg and cooked another poached egg while it was hot.

When she hurriedly served noodles, perhaps it was because her heart was so uncomfortable that she was absent-minded. The hot juice splashed on the back of her hand and turned red in a moment.

Ye Qingcheng endured the pain and wrapped the bowl in a towel to put it on the next table.

The moment I turned around, I saw the Oriental world brocade standing there all the time.

His figure is tall and big. Although he is wearing hospital clothes, he still can't see a little pale pain on his face. It's just that he has lost a lot these days, with some stubble on his lips, and the outline is more profound.

He was originally a hybrid of things. Now it seems that he is as profound as a complete westerner.

His skin was a little rough, but his eyes were still the king, as if he were the cold Milky way across thousands of distances.

As cold as ice.

Ye Qingcheng took the noodle bowl and was slightly stunned there for a moment. The hot heat penetrated the towel and burned her palm.

After sipping her lips, she put the noodle bowl on the table, "eat... I, I've done it. The ingredients here are limited. I can only make you a vegetable noodle, but I added ham and poached eggs."

Dongfang Shijin just looked at her for a full minute. Ye Qingcheng didn't know what he was thinking.

When she thought the atmosphere was going to be awkward, Dongfang Shijin moved, opened the chair and sat down next to the table.

Ye Qingcheng turned to clean up the stove. She only cooked food for Dongfang Shijin.

Dongfang Shijin sat there. The air seemed to condense slightly. He took chopsticks. This should be the only dish Ye Qingcheng can cook. It's full of color, flavor and flavor.

Green vegetables, ham and poached eggs.

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