Little Runaway Wife: President, Please Stop

She herself is Ye Qingcheng, and her every move is Ye Qingcheng. She just makes some changes in her appearance. This faint similarity is most likely to attract the Oriental world brocade.

Ye Qingcheng didn't sleep. She wanted to open her eyes. She thought Lillian's name was strange, but her intuition told her that she needed to pretend to be asleep

Her face was cool and someone was touching her skin.

Something crossed

Ye Qingcheng's intuition told her to try her best to pretend.

I don't know how long later, she even smelled the faint smell of rose incense in the air, very soft

Half an hour later, ye Qingcheng felt that the people around him had left, and the incense in the air was still burning.

be quiet.

The sound of the door being closed was a little clear.

Ye Qingcheng breathed gently and slowly opened her eyes. There was only a light bedside lamp in the whole room. The light was dim. In this blur, she could only see that this was a big room and a completely strange room to her.

She slowly propped up and sat up from the bed. She was a little dizzy. She opened her eyes and looked at the surrounding environment. The pure wooden floor was covered with white cashmere carpet, covered with full rose petals, dark red, light pink, white

There is a glass walkway in the middle of the room. Below it are colorful tropical fish swimming slowly, with light blue light in the water.

Ye Qingcheng slowly raised her head and looked at the ceiling. The carvings on it made her feel strange

Ye Qingcheng felt cold on her face. She gently lifted the quilt and got out of bed. Opposite the big bed was a huge floor wardrobe with ancient roses carved on it and an oval fitting mirror next to it. The surrounding of the fitting mirror was carved with spiraling rose vines.

Ye Qingcheng was barefoot on the carpet. The cashmere was soft and the rose petals were cold.

There are lighted glass aromatherapy around the big bed.

Ye Qingcheng gently walked to the fitting mirror. In the mirror, a petite woman stood there, wearing a white nightdress with a light V sling. The nightdress had just reached the knee. The skirt was embroidered lace. Her naked legs were elegant, and her neck was long and slender, like a swan.

The long curly hair hangs cleverly on both sides of the shoulder blades, slightly chestnut.

Her facial features are so delicate that people can't move their eyes.

That pair of eyes smart as if they could speak, small and sharp bridge of nose, slightly red lips.

She felt a little cold on her face. She gently stretched out her hand and touched her cheek, but she always felt a little unreal. The person in the mirror was like an 18-year-old girl, pure and naive, especially those eyes, clear as a deer jumping in the forest.

Why... These eyes don't feel like themselves?

She has a vague memory of her appearance in her memory, but she has a strong intuition that the person in the mirror... Doesn't look like her.

Where is she so simple and pure?

*********************************************************************************************