After all, there is not much time, and she doesn’t know what will happen when she wakes up.
When his door turned back to the bedroom, the woman who had been sleeping in the quilt had sat up from the bed, white and round, and her shoulders were exposed to the eyes, which was exquisite and beautiful.
He walked up to her with long legs and said, "Did I wake you?"
Anyan stared at him quietly and said nothing.
But when he was sitting on the bed and looking at her tenderly, he suddenly slapped him. It was very loud, which was different from the slap he gave him in the bedroom yesterday afternoon. After the slap, the palm of his hand was numb.
"Have you found that you want to feel safe?"
Xiao Jing looked at her whole body, and her blood flowed slowly, even her nerves were unusually slow. He felt the burning pain in his face, and after a while, he hung his eyes slightly and spoke anything.
She was unhappy, and this time he couldn’t even say sorry.
He is really afraid of nervous breakdown these two days, and it is true that she really wants to have sex with her.
An Yan slapped him, and men and women loved her. She didn’t show such strong reluctance last night. It’s not worth fighting with him the next day.
At noon, I barely ate some rice. Anyan finally looked at my mobile phone sometimes, but the man followed him almost everywhere. Anyan was tired of looking at the man three meters behind me in the corridor on the second floor. "I’m going to my room to wait for the plan, so I didn’t leave you yesterday. How important am I?"
Xiao Jing coughed and his face was silent. "I won’t bother you."
Section 541
What he means is that no matter what she leaves, he just stays silent and doesn’t disturb her.
An Yan gritted her teeth and looked at the sunshine outside the window. She turned back and prepared to go back to the bedroom terrace to bask in the sun.
Xiao Jing followed him without saying a word
Anyan slammed the bedroom door and didn’t lock it. Anyway, he will find a way to get in.
Sure enough, it took less than ten seconds for the doorknob to turn, followed by a tall man.
He looked at her and walked towards the terrace with hand in hand, sipping his lips and asking, "Do you want to see it?"
"I don’t watch me sunbathe."
It’s not much fun to make a decoration by taking one as a yes.
"good"
Anyanmen went out, followed by him. There is some warm sunshine outside, but it is not the kind of warm and dazzling sunshine in winter. It will take at least a long time for the snow to really clear up in Wencheng.
An Yan’s nest is in a blanket-covered imperial concubine chair, and her legs are covered with a thick quilt. What about Xiao Jing?
He is sitting beside her and reading to her at the moment.
"All the songs in the East praise the nightingale’s love for roses, and the winged singer sings a love song about his fragrant flowers in the silent night-"
There is a flower on the rose tree fence, the most beautiful flower among all the flowers. The nightingale sings his love and sorrow to her, but this rose doesn’t say a word. It doesn’t even have a dew of sympathy. It is hanging against these big stones. "
"-among these foreigners, there is a singer who comes from the hometown of Yunkuai and Northern Lights. He picked this rose and put it in a box … This flower body is lying in his Iliad like a mummy. It seems like a dream. He heard him hit it and said it was a rose from Homer’s tomb."
After the story is finished, Xiao Jing looked up quietly at Anyan, narrowed his eyes through the sunlight and looked at his face with a slight twist of delicate eyebrows, which was somewhat confusing. "What did the nightingale die for and didn’t get rose love?"
Xiao Jinghe put it aside and bowed his head and kissed her forehead. It was as low as before and slowly said with a magnetic voice, "In order to win the love of the rose, the nightingale kept singing until she vomited blood and died, but this rose did not shed a tear … Because the rose clung to a secret in its heart, a great musician fell asleep in this grave, and the world left a beautiful song soul."
An Yan’s long eyelashes fluttered gently like butterfly wings, which was very beautiful. She slowly opened her eyes and looked at the Fang people. "What’s the name of this story?"
Poor nightingale can’t get love like her.
Even if you die, you can’t get a tear from your lover. How can you be sorry and sad?
The man looked at her with his fingers clasped and gently said, "A rose in Homer’s tomb."
As if I saw what she was thinking, Xiao Jing reached out and touched the top of her soft hair and whispered, "An Yan fairy tale is a fairy tale. We are different. I love you more now than I love myself. You can’t just hide yourself in a turtle shell. There is no shortage of love in the world, and there is no shortage of people who love you. You are my world, you know?"
An Yan didn’t say anything, and suddenly he stuck out his finger and grabbed his cuff as if he remembered something. "What day is it today?"
"January 25th"
Her heart trembled. "Is Qinhuai married?"