All The Male Leads Have Blackened

The room was permeated with alcohol and fat powder, drifted to the tip of the nose, straight into the lungs, making his head drowsy and irrational. The burning coal fire added warmth to the room.

It makes people feel hot.

Yang Fuqing's eyes were full of possessiveness, without any concealment, staring at Cen Simiao, like a hungry wolf. Cen Smiao drank too much wine, her cheeks were flushed and a little sloppy, and the collar spread out, revealing the skin, adding a touch of ambiguity in the dim light.

Her eyelashes trembled, and she subconsciously adjusted her collar, but after touching it for a long time, she did not make it right, but turned her neck reddish, making her even more tempting.

Cen Simiao gradually calmed down, her expression became flustered, frightened and furious, and she was so angry that she scolded: "Asshole!"

The emotion in Yang Fuqing's eyes did not disappear because of her scolding words, but became even more crazy. Cen Simao suddenly got up, shaking her body and leaving the wine table.

But without paying attention, his body was weak, stepped on the skirt, and fell on Yang Fuqing. Wen Xiang nephrite fluttered his arms, Yang Fuqing clasped his arms tightly, and Cen Simiao sat on his thigh, as soft as boneless.

The fat powder on her body was quite seductive. Yang Fuqing stared at the snow-white exposed on her neck. He reached over and touched, rubbing his fingertips. Cen Simiao struggled to push him hard, but her face narrowed to his thin lips.

Yang Fuqing took advantage of her earlobe.

Ceng Simiao's body suddenly froze, her voice trembling, barely maintaining her majesty as an elder: "You let go of me, you must not be so rude!"

He took a bite and replaced it with a bite. A warm breath fell on her neck, finally defeating Cen Simao's last majesty, with a crying voice: "No, no!"

Her hands seemed to be pushing away, but she had caught Yang Fuqing's neck, and the thin white fingertips were sliding at his throat. The desire in Yang Fuqing's eyes is getting stronger and stronger, I just feel that I am about to burn.

He fiddled with Cen Simiao's collar, her skin was especially white and tender, and she choked more and more, her voice soft, like a cat, especially charming.

Yang Fuqing stood up holding her, looked at the bed, and walked towards it. The wine table was placed in the middle of the road. He lifted his feet and fell, and the dishes broke instantly.

The subordinate who happened to be in the yard was alarmed, and quickly walked to the door: "Ma'am, what happened?"

Cen Simiao has been taken to bed. She has a soft quilt under her body, which is especially warm, but the collar on her body is pulled hard, all the buttons are peeled off, the placket is completely open, Yang Fuqing's eyes are dull, and the touch of her fingertips is especially good. Creamy.

Cen Simiao bit her lower lip tightly and whispered, "You let go of me, or I'll let someone in."

Yang Fuqing's eyes were heavy, and he always looked at her. The possessiveness in his eyes was mixed with bitterness. He ripped the corner of his mouth, put it in her ears, covering his earlobes, and his voice was low: "I don't stop you, call him in and let people Tie me out and be beaten to death. "

He kissed her neck, and Cen Simao shrank suddenly, and heard Yang Fuqing said, "I am crazy. Unless I die, my love for you will never stop."

She trembled, and the people outside the door didn't get a response from the room. She was still asking, and there was even a sign coming in through the door. Yang Fuqing's actions had not stopped, but she became more and more bold, staring at her tightly, her eyes showing a bit of grievance.

The deceased's hand touched the door of the room and tried to push it open. Cen Simiao quickly trembled and said, "It's all right, go back and rest."

Yang Fuqing's messy hand took the opportunity to make it worse, she did not hold back a snoring moan, and began to pant, his eyes darkened, and itching into the bones.

He kissed Cen Simiao's neck, especially hard, raised his head, and kissed her red lips, but saw her eyes glow with water vapor, biting her lips tightly, but seemed to be aggrieved.

He moved.

She stretched her hands and pinched the broken hair on her side face behind her ears. It was extremely gentle, but her eyes were anxious to eat her. Yang Fuqing's lips were bent, her eyes were dark and dark.

"Aggrieved? After all these years, have you brought me such a scourge, do you regret it?"

"..." Why did this stop?

Yang Fuqing's eyebrows grew deeper, her collar was a bit messy, and her face still had a desire to dissipate | Hope: "You know that when I get along with you every day, I can't wait to press you on the bed, tear open your coat, and listen to you calling me first name."

Cen Simiao twitched, then you're fast.

He sneered, his face showing despair, and rubbing her earlobe: "You praise me for my diligence at night and stay up all night studying with the lights on. But as long as I close my eyes at night, you will appear in dreams."

"I only have the light on, open the window and look at your door, thinking about how you lay in bed."

Cen Simiao was emotional.

Yang Fuqing bowed her head, her voice was low: "I am so shy."

He pursed his lips: "Mother, are you sure you want my son to come to your knees?"

After speaking, Yang Fuqing seemed to have lost her strength, her chin was resting on her shoulder socket, the tip of her nose was full of fat powder, and her tears fell down: "I don't want to be your son, and you can't want me."

Like a child, he held Cen Simiao tightly, especially dependent on him.

Cen Simiao choked and finished.

Once the depressed mood is exposed, it will become different. Even though Yang Fuqing did not make the last step, her attitude towards Cen Simiao has changed.

For several days later, Cen Simiao kept cold on him, and when his subordinates saw him, he stopped Yang Fuqing directly out of the door and was not allowed to enter the room.

Before the change, Yang Fuqing would definitely stand obediently at the door, staring at the door, looking forward to Cen Simiao's soft heart. But now, he ignored Cen Simiao's order, passed the next person, and opened the door to enter.

Cen Simiao was anxious, picked up the tea cup on the table and smashed at him, Yang Fuqing stood still and stared at her, the emotion in her eyes was no longer hidden.

After she smashed it, Yang Fuqing bent over and picked up the fragments, fearing that she might step on her injured foot.

When Cen Simiao saw him, he was so annoyed that he tossed around for a while, and at the last moment, he had to be emotional. Yang Fuqing stood next to her with her head down, and said to her, "I'm still out of breath? I'll buy you some more expensive and make you enjoy it?"

Cen Simiao looked at him coldly.

Yang Fuqing pursed her lips and lowered her head again.

She picked up the clothes on the table, and ignored him. Seeing this, Yang Fuqing frowned, his eyes jealous: "Why make him clothes?"

Cen Simiao was not angry: "Or do it for you?"

Yang Fuqing nodded immediately.

She glanced.

A few days later, after the clothes were ready, Cen Simiao didn't go out and let the subordinates send it to Li Zhixiu. Yang Fuqing didn't come until noon. As soon as she entered the room, she went to the table and frowned.

It was empty and the clothes were gone.

He frowned and asked Cen Simiao: "What about my clothes?"

Cen Simiao is inexplicable: "Where are your clothes?"

Yang Fuqing's eyes cooled down, exasperated. Cen Smiao pursed her lips, her voice extremely cold: "Forget about that night, you and I got along like before. In my heart, Grandpa is still my husband."

Yang Fuqing's chest was so undulating that she was mad at her: "You say it again!"

Cen Simiao looked up: "You go out."

He was too lazy to ignore him.

Yang Fuqing clenched his fists.

In the next few days, Cen Simao kept asking her to go to Li Zhixiu, either clothes or snacks, but she was more sincere than when she didn't get her divorce.

Yang Fuqing gritted her teeth, her eyes were obscure, and she didn't know what she was thinking.

Cen Simiao was so tossing for a while, Li Zhixiu suddenly started to get busy, he couldn't see anyone every day, and he ignored the Jianghulang.

And Yang Fuqing did the same. He used to see Tianer here, but now he can't see people.

The subordinates in the courtyard went out to buy things, and when they saw a rebel on the street, the government sent troops to suppress it, but they still did not catch anyone. The scene was thrilling but scary.

After the next man came back to Cen Simiao and said it again, he was still worried.

Cen Smiao froze, listening to the traitor's moves described by the subordinates, how so much like the group of people raised under her hands. Frowning, thinking of Yang Fuqing's recent abnormalities, and Li Zhixiu's busyness.

She rubbed her forehead. Yang Fuqing's movement was still very fast. The moment she gave the key to him, she immediately started.

The key she handed to Yang Fuqing that night was not only a key containing a treasure chest of gold or silver, but also a symbol of power. The group she raised, who only recognized the key, now fell into Yang Fuqing's hands, and only listened to him.

Neither was there, and she was rare and quiet.

Sleeping in the room for a while now, and see if the book is passing the time. Occasionally, Cen Simiao met Yang Fuqing in the yard, and his cuffs were stained with a few drops of inconspicuous blood, and she frowned.

Yang Fuqing looked down his sleeves, as if doing something wrong.

Cen Simiao pursed her lips: "What have you been doing recently?"

He was stiff, and he felt the key, which Cen Simiao had given him that night. Yang Fuqing raised her eyes: "I've seen you raise a bunch of people, it's great."

Cen Simiao did not speak.

He pursed his lips: "I'm planning something. If you want to take back the keys, take them."

Cen Simiao's attitude was rather indifferent: "In the beginning, I wanted to give you a way out of raising those people. What am I going to do?"

She turned to leave without looking at Yang Fuqing's expression. He stared at Cen Simiao's back, his eyes became deeper, he tightened the key, and bent his mouth: "I said, to kill Li Zhixiu, even if you like him, it's useless."

A few days later, the rebels became more and more fierce. Cen Simiao could hear the latest rumors in the room. They all said that this group was directed at Li Zhixiu, and they had already started several times.

She raised her eyebrows, and didn't think about it, but still passed the time holding the book. Just feeling comfortable, Yang Fuqing suddenly appeared in the middle of the night and broke into her house.

Cen Simiao was lying on the bed in her coat, and when she heard the movement, she was startled, got up from the bed, and asked sharply, "Who?"

Yang Fuqing stepped behind the screen, her voice was a little weak: "It's me."

She frowned.

Unbuttoning a few clothes buttons, revealing the neck, and then expressing panic pretending, opening the screen to speak, but seeing Yang Fuqing wearing a night clothes and covering his face, only showing familiar eyebrows.

His coat was stained with blood, wet, and his lips pale, and her eyes widened: "How did you do that!"

Yang Fuqing stared at her, bending her eyebrows and revealing satisfaction. He lost his strength and instantly fell to the ground: "You still care about me."

Cen Simiao squeezed her lips tightly.

He was seriously injured, and it was useless to use ordinary gold wound medicine. He could only let the system open a gold finger and carefully bandage him. Cen Simiao frowned, but could not help expressing her worries.

Yang Fuqing was pale with pain, but her lips were still smiling.

Cen Simiao was annoyed and asked him, "How the **** did you do that?"

He said vaguely: "Fighting."

"With whom?"

Yang Fuqing raised her eyes and stared: "Li Zhixiu."

Cen Simiao's eyes moved, and she looked cold, looked at the wound that had been bandaged, threw clean clothes to him, and then turned to leave.

I only heard her say, "I gave you this silver and manpower to keep you from being bullied and to have your own power. It is not for you to embarrass you."

He opened his mouth and muttered, "Eccentricity."

Cen Simao covered the **** clothes and burned it. Yang Fuqing stayed in her house for several days with her wounds. Cen Simiao made people tonic, and he was especially happy to drink.

But when she saw Li Zixiu sending a snack, her face instantly became gloomy.

Cen Simiao glanced at him and ignored him.

Yang Fuqing couldn't help it, and when they were only in the room, he said coldly, "It's no use sending him snacks. He's afraid that he's also being healed, and he can't even take the medicine."

Cen Simiao looked at him in amazement.

Yang Fuqing tightened his jaw: "I've been hurt this way, where else can he go?"

She frowned. "Where did you hurt him?"

Seeing her worried look, Yang Fuqing was so angry that she didn't overdo it coldly. Cen Simiao left for Li Zhixiu directly. If he died now, the original master's counterattack task would be completed.

Yang Fuqing called her anxiously.

Cen Simao looked back, her voice chilling: "Drink your soup, and go out if you talk more."

He clenched his lips, and a little grievance appeared in his eyes.