Little Runaway Wife: President, Please Stop

Ye Qingcheng smiled shallowly. His eyes seemed to see far away. In that ancient and romantic British street, there were European buildings everywhere, including castles and Centennial cathedrals

On a snowy night, they walked hand in hand on the road. In the distance, there was a church bell. They were wearing a thick scarf, one end of her and the other end of him

There are also Christmas music on the street, bright Christmas trees, shops with beautiful socks

Just think, you will feel very happy.

Ye Qingcheng is dreaming about their future.

"Oriental world..."

"Patter -"

Something hit her chest and quickly filled her skirt. Ye Qingcheng looked down. Bright blood droplets fell on her chest and bloomed a dazzling blood lotus.

"Oriental world brocade --!"

Ye Qingcheng looked back in panic. Dongfang Shijin sat on the big rocking chair. His eyes were somewhat lax, and blood was seeping out of his nose. He raised his hand to wipe it, but his consciousness was not controlled by himself

The scene in front of the Oriental world brocade becomes blurred and overlaps constantly, and the sound of cicadas is intermittent

Ye Qingcheng Cang was busy. He didn't even have time to wear his shoes. He went down and asked Ma Zai to take the pills. A wooden box with bright red brocade in it, a small glass bottle in it, and 10 scarlet pills

Ye Qingcheng poured out one, and his hands were shaking. The horse boy hurriedly asked the maid to get the water. Ye Qingcheng's mood fluctuated very much, and the water cups were shaking

She fed one, and the whole heart was beating wildly, because Evan said that only Cecilia's blood

To have an inhibitory effect

She's not Cecilia

She looked at Evan mixed with some other potions, hoping to work

Ye Qingcheng's heart seemed to be stabbed by thousands of knives. Her heart was a broken pain.

The head of Dongfang Shijin passed slightly, and blood seeped out at a very slow speed. Drop by drop, drop by drop, dropped down his pointed chin and onto his chest

Ye Qingcheng's tears fell down in a moment, and his face was pale.

Ye Qingcheng knelt down on the blanket made of wool and wiped his hands in panic. Tears fell one by one and smashed

"Dongfang Shijin... Dongfang Shijin... Dongfang Shijin..."

Her crying whisper, the feeling that her heart was swept by a great panic, really seems to be the stagnation of the surrounding temperature in a moment

Ye Qingcheng held the palm of Dongfang Shijin tightly and prayed that the medicine was useful

It seemed that heaven felt Ye Qingcheng's sadness, and his blood slowly solidified.

Ye Qingcheng hurriedly picked up the paper towel next to him and wiped the dense blood on his face.

The warm palm was a little weak and shook and grabbed Ye Qingcheng's hand.

His voice was oppressed, with a strong hoarseness, "what did you give me to eat...?"

"Medicine... I went to the black market to find the medicine for you..." Ye Qingcheng's tears didn't dry up. She looked at Dongfang Shijin's gradually clear eyes, and a heart was beating violently, "are you better..."

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