Chapter 270: Because I like warmth, 74

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The number went back to the government, and I couldn’t eat anything. I was on the table and I was thinking about my uncle.
Chen Bo knew that her appetite was not good and she prepared some light meals.
"Small warm, eat a little."
The number of warmth just nodded, ate a few porridge, could not help but open the mouth: "Chen Bo, if you can't put it down?"
Chen Bo probably had a few words in his heart, and sighed a bit: "Small warm, he is much bigger than you, and it is the North King. If you abandon you one day, what do you do?"
"But he has caught up with his life for a few warmths, and he has him in his warm heart..."
Even if he is warmer than the number, even if the two people are disparate, but the number of warmth is also trying to make themselves better and better.
"Chen Bo has always respected the thoughts of several of your children. If you have to talk to him, Chen Bo can't say anything..."
A few warm look at Chen Bo, knowing that Chen Bo can say that this has acquiesced her choice.
She is grateful and helpless.
The next day, the number of warmth was busy late in the business, only to get the job. When he walked out of the business, he saw a bag of soft candy in his hand and waited for her in the cold night.
A few warmly rubbed his eyes and walked over.
Along the street, I can still hear the sound of sipping in the market. The number of warm heads is slowly eating and eating sugar, and the little hand is led by him. That scene seems to be a scene of the past shopping in the North City.
"Warm, the king has to go back in two days." He left the capital for so long, it is time to go back.
The number of warmth was unexpected, so it was not unexpected.
On the road, I saw a small booth for painting. I walked over and asked the little brother: "Can I make a painting myself?"
The little brother is also reasonable, "Yes, but you have to give money."
晟 Thousands of inks will have a pocket.
Sitting down, holding a pen and ink, correcting the quiet posture.
Thousands of inks loved the warmth of this look. She was like a green bamboo. The fingers holding the pen were clear and clear, and the fat jade was generally good.
A few warm clothes are wearing a snow-blue enamel skirt, embroidered with peach-patterned light-colored sleeves, and attached to the edge of the table, lining the wrists to be slender and white.
She was slightly low-necked and bent out of a beautiful arc.
The eyes are clear and focused, and the small, rosy cherry mouth is gently squatting.
He remembered how many days and nights he had, and she was sitting in his bookstore and writing intently.
However, Qian Qianmo only looked at a few more eyes. When he was warm, he looked up and said, "Don't look."
晟 Thousands of inks retreated to the stone chair behind and sat down, watching her painting from a distance.
The younger brother of the booth smiled: "It is great that your brother is waiting for you."
The movement of the warm grip pen was a meal, and looked up at the clear and sly scorpion and looked at the thousand inks. The lips were moving and could not hear the emotions and said: "It is an uncle."
No one guessed what she was thinking, and even a thousand inks, just thought that the number of people using their age disparity reminded him not to think.
The younger brother of the booth did not feel the turmoil between the two eyes, but he was surprised to say: "The girl's uncle is really young, like your brother."
The number of warmth lowered his head, and he said a word, and refused to let the younger brother of the booth see her painting.
"Warm, what did you paint?"
Until the number of warm stops the pen, Qian Qianmo finally could not help but ask.
A few warm people looked at the people in the painting, whispered: "My heart."
Looking for the embarrassing 晟 thousand inks licked the thin lips.