The clothes and bed sheets were rolled out in the sa washing machine. The various bathing supplies used by the two people were the sa set. The essential oil sprayed in the humidifier with an aroma in the corner was also "stained by rain and dew." Be impartial.
The clothes that Sheng Lingyuan wore from inside to outside were bought by Xuan Ye.
In terms of hobbies and interests, Xuan Yuan is always 18 years old. He doesn't buy clothes very fast. He always prefers light-colored, simple and comfortable fabric clothes, bought and bought, there are always so many styles, so the clothes of two people are also very similar, when buying, there is a master, mixed thrown into the washing machine, I can't tell which one is who, so I have to pick it up randomly.
Living in such a small apartnt, trivial matters are always lingering.
At this ti, I felt connected again, and I could hear each other's voice in each other's heart.
But across the mountains and across the sea.
In Sheng Lingyuan's life, people were trying to figure out his mind all the ti, trying to use the situation, or use it. He wanted to bury himself deeper and deeper with a single enemy.
Widowed alone.
"Lingyuan," Xuan Yuan crossed his face and looked directly into his eyes, "I ask you a word ... don't be nervous, it's a private matter."
Sheng Lingyuan's eyelashes blinked slightly.
Xuan Yuan: "You don't really need
at all, do you?"
His Majesty may be loving, petting, and even persistent, but he does not need any company.
"Companionship is a burden to you." Xuan Yuan stood up, walked to the bedroom window, and lit a cigarette—he was afraid of His Majesty's odour, and since Sheng Lingyuan lived in, he hasn't smoked a cigarette at ho once. Fortunately, it is not mortal, and there is no smoking addiction. I almost stopped by the way ... almost.
These days, in fact, not only Sheng Lingyuan is nervous.
"The world is your burden, and I am also your burden."
Pretending to be dead, Sheng Lingyuan said, "... nonsense."
Xuan Yuan held his cigarette and smiled down, "Not a burden, so what am I to you?"
Sheng Lingyuan probably had more than a dozen answers in his heart at the sa ti, scrambling in his throat, almost covering all the subjects used in ancient and modern Chinese and foreign confession. There are affectionate, nauseous, ingenious, and plain-hearted, even advertising words that I do not know where to listen are mixed in it. It can be seen that a person must have a vocabulary in order to have bright flowers.
But sohow, these beautiful words were blocked by his tongue.
He seed suddenly dumb.
"I'm a 'Suzaku Tianling' who has survived a half-dead life," Xuan Yuan said slowly, in the blue smoke, "later beca your heavenly sword."
"You can tell from this na that I definitely don't have a good ending-otherwise, why should I call it" Ding Qiankun
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