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81. Chapter 81 Hit him where it hurts

"Um...wait a minute...I'm an injured person..." Xiahou Huan'er's messes came one after another. Beast, her injuries weren't even healed yet. She quickly buttoned up the buttons he had unbuttoned.

.

He paused with his palms and stared at her without concealing the fierce desire in his eyes: "Rest?"

Xiahou Huan'er nodded hurriedly: "Rest, I'll rest soon."

"Close your eyes."

He gave an order, she made a move, and she cursed: a sinister beast.

He seemed satisfied with her cooperation. His slender fingers buttoned the buttons that she had not yet had time to do, and helped her cover her with the quilt.

Her nerves were tense for a long time, and she quietly opened a small crack, but was frightened by his fierce eyes and quickly closed it.

Damn, in such a tense atmosphere, she couldn't sleep until she was so depressed.

She said tentatively: "It will be difficult for me to fall asleep like this."

Dongfang Xing snorted dangerously, and the cold breath immediately approached.

She quickly opened her eyes, held his approaching chest with her palms, and said with a fake smile: "I mean, you can do something else to coax me to sleep."

Dongfang Xing narrowed his eyes and glared at her: "Is there anything better than torturing you?"

Countless black lines appeared on Xiahou Huan'er's face: "I am an injured patient, do you want to make me more injured?"

Damn, beasts, don’t they have anything else to do besides being beasts?

He stared at her for a while and then said slowly: "Say."

"You can sing to relax me." His voice was low and mellow, perfect for singing a lullaby. Xiahou Huan'er looked at him longingly.

He stared at her coldly and said arrogantly: "That's a nice thought." Let him sing. A long time ago, he could only sing the national anthem. After a few hundred years, he doesn't speak much anymore. How can you still expect him to sing? Unless

The sun rises in the west, and it rains red in the sky. Otherwise, it would be nonsense.

Xiahou Huan'er's face turned dark and she said patiently, "You can still tell stories." If you can't sing, you can always tell stories.

Who knows, the Corpse King's cold eyes darkened, and he said coldly: "There is no story to tell."

Xiahou Huan'er became angry: "Fuck, who are you lying to? You have lived for more than five hundred years and have eaten more salt than I have eaten rice. You must have experienced a lot of things. Just tell me."

Dongfang Xing's face suddenly stiffened, his eyes darkened, he straightened up, turned around, and left without saying a word.

The tall and steep back reveals a touch of aloof and cold loneliness.

Xiahou Huan'er regretted that she had touched his sore spot impulsively.

These five hundred years were pain that he was unwilling to face.

She jumped out of bed and followed him quietly.

He walked slowly to the riverside outside the village, stared at the endless river, and stood with his hands behind his back.

Xiahou Huan'er hid behind the tree, looking at his back, feeling a little distressed. He was carrying too much, and she really wished she could share some of it for him.

A cold voice came through the air: "Come out."

was discovered.

In fact, he noticed it from the beginning and deliberately slowed down to let her keep up.

Xiahou Huan'er touched her nose without concealing it, walked out from behind the tree, came to his side, pointed at the flowing river water, pretending to be profound: "The water of the Yellow River comes up from the sky, and it rushes to the sea and never returns. It's annoying and blocking my heart."

Everything is like a surging river, it will eventually flow away and pass. Nine times out of ten things in life will be unsatisfactory, so why not enjoy yourself in time, haha, Mr. Xing, don’t you think so?"

She rarely comforts people, so this time she comforted him by quoting scriptures, which was pretty good.

Dongfang Xing looked at her sideways and frowned. Even big things could turn into trivial matters in front of her.


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