Living With a Temperamental Adonis: 99 Proclamations of Love

Cheng Qingcong was choked and only swallowed the second half of her sentence into her belly. She stared at Su Zhinian with words, and wanted to persuade, but did not dare to persuade. She had to stand still and stay still.

Su Zhinian rubbed his hands, rubbed the temperature with the palm of his hand, preheated the safflower oil, and when preparing to cover Song Qingchun's ankle, he saw Cheng Qingcong standing on the side before he walked slowly. Raised her eyelids and glanced at her.

A very brief look, she didn't stay too much on Cheng Qingcong's face, she turned away, but Cheng Qingcong clearly felt the thick warning from the flashing sight, her back For a while, he suddenly lost all thoughts, and hurriedly walked out of the box door.

When taking the door, Cheng Qingcong heard Su Zhinian's soft whisper: "It may hurt when you knead it. You bear with it. It will be more comfortable when you knead it well."

The words are softer and softer, as if fearing that the decibels will increase will shock the people in front of you.

Cheng Qingcong turned his head subconsciously, peering through the door that was about to be closed, and glanced at the indoor scene.

Miss Song was still wayward with a silent face, and she didn’t even flick Su Zhinian, but the big boss who had always been proud and expensive was not annoyed and displeased, but instead held her ankle. In the palm of his hand, the movement pinched gently and meticulously.

Many years ago, she knew that this man who existed like a **** in her heart had a good heart.

Although she always wanted him to be happy, but when she saw that he had a good heart for him, she still showed a little loss in her heart.

Cheng Qingcong pinched his palm hard, so that the pain forced him to maintain the perfect smile on his face, stepping on high heels, step by step toward the elevator, and went upstairs.

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After Cheng Qingcong went out, the whole box seemed more quiet and empty.

Su Zhinian's palm is very hot, and the strength is just right. A little more strength is heavy, and one less strength is too light. Song Qingchun's ankle is twisted, and it is particularly comfortable to pinch.

Halfway through the pinch, Song Qingchun pulled the sight out of the window back and fell on Su Zhinian.

Throughout the room, all fluttering is the smell of safflower oil.

He lowered his head, holding her white ankles with his big palms, with a serious look on his face.

She looked at this picture, her eyelashes shaking twice, her hands hanging on the chair, quietly grabbed the skirt, and squeezed firmly.

After Su Zhinian pinched Song Qingchun's ankle, she did not get up anxiously. She still knelt in front of her on one knee, raised her head slightly, and asked softly, "Are you better?"

Song Qingchun still did not speak, but her eyes suddenly turned red.

Although Su Zhinian touched Song Qingnian's skin, Song Qingnian didn't think of anything at the moment, but she had a sad emotion that kept rolling in her chest, and it was very strong. Su Zhinian looked at her red eyes , And didn't know what she was doing, she suddenly became panicked: "What's wrong? The ankle still hurts?"

She still didn't speak, but tears climbed up under her eyes.

Su Zhinian's anxious back was covered with a thin layer of cold sweat. He thought about it and thought he had just scratched her: "I just overstretched it? Has it hurt you?"

As soon as his voice fell, a tear rolled out of her eyes and hit the back of his hand.