Little Runaway Wife: President, Please Stop

Ma Zi ran down from upstairs and looked at the crazy appearance of Dongfang Shijin. He was immediately frightened.

There is a ferocious wound on his hand, which is constantly gurgling blood. Those eyes are like a lonely and seriously wounded lion

Ye Qingcheng put down her rice washing tools and had no time to wipe her hands on her apron. She went out with a slight pain in her voice, "Oriental world brocade, I'm here."

“……”

At the moment of seeing her, his anger and madness seemed to fade slowly, and the scarlet in his eyes was like the ebb tide, slowly disappearing bit by bit.

His eyes gradually softened and deepened.

Ye Qingcheng raised her feet and her heart was sour. When she walked over, his expression was still so deep, but it was a lot softer.

Ye Qingcheng stretched out his hand and slowly hugged him. A pair of slender hands were around his waist, "I'm here, I didn't go."

Those slightly hot hands slowly lifted up and hugged her. His voice was a little dumb and broken, "you are not allowed to walk around without my permission."

"OK." Ye Qingcheng's eyes suddenly sour and tears are about to burst out. He is ill. He is seriously ill. Ye Qingcheng can feel it.

He had always been so strong that it seemed that no disease could defeat him, but now his face was abnormally pale and his body was abnormally hot.

His face was even a little haggard.

Morbid haggard.

When he hugged her, his body shook slightly. Ye Qingcheng also felt it. Her heart was a little sour and wanted to get rid of it, but his hand was like a pair of iron pliers, which imprisoned her.

Ye Qingcheng closed his eyes slightly and responded to his hug.

When he saw this scene, the horse's eyes turned sour.

When you can't see ye Qingcheng, the world of Dongfang Shijin seems to collapse. He is like a lion on the verge of madness, roaring and dangerous, with great sadness and heartache. When ye Qingcheng appears in front of him, he can always calm down for a moment.

Maybe this is a great love.

After a while, Dongfang Shijin's hand slowly loosened. There seemed to be a broken light in his eyes. Ye Qingcheng looked at him and it was impossible for him to go up and rest.

"You sit outside," Ye Qingcheng's little hand held his hand. Dongfang Shijin naturally shook her fingers, "I'll make you something to eat."

"Well," he replied dully.

Ye Qingcheng's nose was sour and took his hand. Outside the kitchen was the restaurant. There were mini bars and chairs in the storage room, so that the young master could rest here one day.

The servant brought him tables and chairs.

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