Chapter 372

"Don't Don't... " The girl in the dream, suddenly exclaimed.

Mo Jingyao frowned slightly and patted her back with a big palm. "Don't be afraid. I'm here. It's OK. It's OK."

"Dad, I don't want to marry a dead man. Don't you want me to marry?" But did not think, Mo Jing Yao more coax, in the sleep metaphor color cry more fierce.

The words of metaphor and crying made Mo Jingyao black in the moment.

I also understood in an instant what metaphor was dreaming about.

Close your arms slightly.

Hold the metaphor closer.

"Little color Small color... "

"Don't How black... "

"Little color..." Mo Jingyao kept calling for several times, but he was still immersed in the nightmare and could not wake up.

Mo Jingyao's eyes were slightly heavy, and then his handsome face was slightly inclined. In a flash, he sealed his lips.

After the light shallow, suddenly straight in.

At last, he dispelled the scream in the nightmare of metaphor.

Then, it is the girl's salty tears quietly into the lips, let Mo Jingyao a burst of heartache.

Dream, dream, she cried.

I think he must have frightened her with his shroud.

Metaphorical color cried and cried, and felt that the cold in the dream was gone.

Instead, it's boiling hot.

Hot she gradually warm the body, and then, just want to be closer to that warm source.

"Xiaose, now is the bridal chamber of that day, OK?" On that day, he couldn't move. On this day, he was sober.

That day, she saved him, she was his day, this day, he was her day, he wanted to hold up a sky for her.

Hearing the word "bridal chamber", the figurative color slowly opens his eyes, and then he puts on a handsome face magnified by the man.

What's more, he always enjoys playing games of kinship.

Every time I kiss, I can't stop addictive.

Micro squint eyes, metaphor color finally wake up, and then, what did not think of the language is not surprising, die endless way: "Mo Jingyao, are you sure you can?" He's hurt. It's impossible.

The girl's indistinct voice spilled from the lips of two people.

Mo Jingyao only felt a fire rising rapidly in his body.

Then, with the body shape, the back of the metaphor falls on the bed sheet slightly.

Lips.

Hands.

All, all.

It started to explode at this moment.

By the time the metaphor reacts, it's already late.

It's too late for anything.

No matter how much she begged him, he would not let her go.

Although the sun was blocked by dark curtains outside, it did not affect them to see each other at all.

As if the flow of water, bit by bit with two lonely hearts for a long time.

Yes, metaphor has always been lonely.

Yes, Mo Jingyao has always been lonely.

Fortunately, they met each other and were no longer alone.

However, the metaphor of this moment is to bite off a piece of meat of Mo Jingyao.

He's hurt.

However, no matter how many times she asked, he would not let her go.

When the flowing waterfall suddenly falls into the pool, the water in a pool is quiet.

On the side of his body is the heavy breathing sound of Mo Jingyao.

Yu se has curled up like a kitten and crouched there, "Mo Jing Yao, don't you want to die?"

"Yes, you do." The man's Mo Mou micro Mi lie on the side of the body of the metaphor color, the voice has become dumb.

It's like killing me.

He seemed liberated.

But only he knew how hard it was.

Hearing what he said, she sat up with her little hand on Mo Jingyao's forehead. "I don't have a fever. It's normal, but I have to do that terrible thing. Mo Jingyao, don't think about your ribs."

She said, her little hand moved down to feel the wound on his body with her hand.

The broken rib had been cured for seven or eight minutes in one day of medication and her acupuncture. As long as he was given two more days to consolidate, he could move freely. As a result, he had just made such a fuss, and everything had to start from the beginning again.

Metaphor is really a cry without tears.

"No good, no good." Mo Jingyao closed his eyes slightly.

But the more so, the more we can feel the little hand of metaphor.

It moved slightly.

It's a life-threatening rhythm.

Mingming just had a rough sea, this moment, began to move.

"Well, you really don't want to? When the time comes, your bone injury will fall ill. I promise you will cry every rainy and cloudy day. However, it is useless for you to cry at that time. It will definitely hurt your heart if you want to die. ""Well, it's not good if it's not good." Mo Jingyao also did not know how much he had heard, only knew that he really didn't want to be good at this moment.

Such illness has a metaphor accompany, with her 24 hours close to the body care, he likes.

Otherwise, once the disease is good, I am afraid that there will be no such treatment again.

Metaphor wants to bite.

The man really owes to bite. She is going to treat him wholeheartedly, but he doesn't think so. She takes it.

His hand was removed from his abdomen, and Yu turned and went out of bed, took his bag, opened it and put it by the side of the bed.

"Mo Jing Yao, you lie down."

"Well." The man lay out stretched and waited for the metaphor to give him a needle.

"Mo Jing Yao, I must have owed you in my last life, so I have been bullied by you all the time in my life, and I have been bullied by you, and I will give you good treatment."

Whirring and dropping the needle.

One shot after another.

However, this time, the needle, and the previous two completely different.

Deep.

It's a little deeper than before.

Naturally, each needle is more painful than before.

However, the metaphor is not nervous at all, anyway, it is not her pain.

What hurts is mo Jing Yao.

But he hurts him to live.

Who let him just refuse to let her go.

She blushed at the thought of every action he had just made.

Dozens of needles fell, the metaphor this just slowly straight up waist, sit well.

Looking at Mo Jing Yao body thick and numb silver needle clapped, "Mojing Yao, pain?"

"No pain." Mojing Yao's forehead slightly Qin sweat, in fact, has been painful to the extreme.

Yes, this time, it really hurts.

But he is a man, and he can't hurt.

And it is not to worry about him.

As a result, he just finished speaking, and listened to the simile: "really not hurt? Is it that I fell the needle and fell shallow? Then I'll deepen it a little bit. " Yu said, the hands fell down, a light turn has fallen the needle tail of the silver needle, one by one deepening.

It was only a dozen seconds, and she had turned a few needles.

Mo Jingyao forehead sweat meaning more thick, this is the way of suspicion: "you fall needle, pain is normal?"

Otherwise, she would not ask back and again would not fiddle with the silver needle that had fallen.

"Yes, the pain is right, it doesn't hurt right."

"It hurts." The tail of the metaphor is only falling. Mo Jing Yao stands for a word "pain" to respond to Mo Jing Yao.

Yu se this only to live in the hand, slightly smile at Mo Jing Yao, "Mr. Mo, tell me, now taste is lost?"