Chapter 78: Was he the one who hugged her to bed? One
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Chapter 78: Was he the one who carried her to bed? (1)
At dawn, Ming Xiaochen had already woken up before Hong Tao came in. Oh my god, she had a nightmare last night. She actually dreamed of that tyrant again. Why, in reality, did he treat her so badly?
Isn't the torture enough?
He even invaded her dream to scare her.
Thinking of last night's dream, Ming Xiaochen hated Han Junrong even more. This hateful man had better not appear in front of her. She hated to see his arrogant and arrogant look.
He had a condescending expression that looked down on everything.
Did he come last night? When she was having a nightmare last night, just when she felt like she was about to fall into the abyss, she felt as if someone pulled her up, saving her from the panic of falling.
Him? Did he save her?
She remembered that she also fell asleep lying on the table last night. She remembered clearly that she did not go to bed. It must have been him, and it must have been him who carried her to bed.
Thinking that it might be the unknown person who visited her in the middle of the night, she felt bright and cheerful. As long as she thought of him, her mood would suddenly improve. Suddenly she thought she remembered something.
Her fair cheeks suddenly turned red, and then she lifted up the quilt. She didn't even have time to put on her shoes, and ran to the side of the table with her bare feet. A cold chill came from the floor, but she didn't pay attention. Now she was concerned about what he had done yesterday.
Did you see the sentence she wrote in Wan?
When she took away the paper weight, the words on the rice paper suddenly came into her eyes. Wow... such beautiful words. Compared with his handwriting, her handwriting was simply embarrassing.
Went to the Pacific Ocean,
She finally knew what it means to compare people to death. She would really be compared to death by him. Putting her words together with his, they were like an extremely gorgeous flower. And hers,
Even being a green leafy foil is too shabby.
When that sentence came into her eyes, her face suddenly turned red, as bright and eye-catching as if she had applied rouge. She quickly pressed the piece of paper on the table, her heart pounding like a deer.
He started beating wildly.
After quite a while, her heartbeat had not returned to normal, but she couldn't help but pick up the piece of paper and put it in front of her, looking at the handwriting that made her so envious, and the sentence that made her so envious.
Her face was red and her heart was beating wildly, her heart was beating wildly uncontrollably.