All The Male Leads Have Blackened

Cen Simiao looked in the mirror for a long time, but she didn't see that there was a girl-in-law on this face.

But as soon as I opened my eyes every day, I started to work. I had to find a way to take care of Song Boyu. If he got a little worse, he began to be dissatisfied. He said nothing, just ignored you.

Cen Simiao didn't want to get used to him at first. But as soon as her attitude got colder, Song Boyu became even colder than her, not even raising her eyelids.

He would look at her once again.

Cen Simao didn't fret, and began to talk softly, in short, it was especially caring. Song Boyu's attitude was not so easy to change back, and it took her several days to make him less cold.

Cen Simiao feels a bit miserable.

The system listened to her for a long time, and the more she said the more she cried, it released the first bgm. Cen Simiao was not affected at all, her brows frowned slightly, but she was sad.

The system looked at her for a while, and couldn't help it: "Can you stop it? You still offered to move here and took your parents away."

"So a body full of youthful hormones is falling in your hands. You are now cheap and sell well."

Cen Simiao thinks it's pure nonsense.

Now Song Boyu is not interested in her at all. Except for taking care of him, he can brush a wave of presence, and the rest of his time is almost like a transparent person in front of him.

It's a long time since she fell into her hands.

Cen Smiao pursed her lips, and was lost.

The system is working hard, and asked, intentionally or unintentionally, "In fact, every world is him, aren't you tired?"

Cen Simiao looked at the glasses, picked up the makeup brush on the dressing table, and gently swept the blush. The complexion on her face became much better, the corners of her mouth were bent, and her eyes became charming.

"Not tired."

The system stumbled: "Why?"

Cen Simiao is meaningful: "The configuration is too good."

System: "What the hell?"

Even though Cen Simiao has gone through many worlds with the system, sometimes it still can't understand what Cen Simiao is talking about, it's in the mist. Cen Simao didn't say any further.

She just bought some vegetables back yesterday and plans to make more at noon today. Cen Simiao took the dishes out of the refrigerator and washed them, perhaps because of the winter, the water coming out of the faucet was cold.

The chopping board has been placed on the stove, peeled the garlic, put the knife flat on it, and then press it hard, it suddenly cracks, and the garlic taste becomes rich.

Cen Simiao was preparing to pour oil into the pan, and suddenly she heard movement in the living room. The door in the kitchen was not closed. She put down her hand and looked out through the door slit.

A back figure, with a slightly curved back, wrinkles piled up on his body, revealing a slender neck, Song Poyu holding a cup in his hand, taking a sip of his head and rolling his throat knot.

The look between the brows was still very cold.

Cen Simiao narrowed her eyes and leaned against the wall side by side, her eyes were particularly interested, and he looked at him from head to toe.

Song Boyu was unaware that after drinking the water, his lips were stained with water stains. The outside light fell on his body through the glass window, and his skin was whiter. Nothing he cared about could be seen in those eyes.

He put the water cup back in place, exactly the same as before, and turned to walk to the room.

Cen Simao raised her brows, subconsciously reached out and touched her pocket, her eyes were still staring at him. She didn't reach into her pocket for a long time, and looked down before she remembered the apron she was wearing now.

Suddenly I feel that smoking addiction has been committed again. Unfortunately, there is no smoke on hand.

When eating, Song Boyu picked up his chopsticks, focused and carefully chopped vegetables. Cen Simao did not eat, leaning on the back of the chair and staring at him, Song Boyu didn't notice it, or didn't care about her eyes.

When he was always doing one thing, he devoted himself wholeheartedly, and no one else could get the slightest attention from him. Moreover, the character is particularly persistent.

After a while, Song Boyu put down his chopsticks and wiped his mouth clean, and then he was ready to stand up. Cen Simiao suddenly got up first, propped his hands on the table, and leaned forward: "You stand still."

He didn't seem to hear it.

Cen Simiao frowned, repeating softly again: "You don't move."

Song Boyu looked up: "Is there anything wrong?"

She bent her mouth, nodded, and then said nothing.

Song Boyu stared at her for a moment and said, "You're wasting my time. I don't want to listen to you."

He wanted to get up and didn't look at her again. Cen Simiao frowned, maintaining a smile on her face, and softly shouted at him, Song Boyu looked up again: "I said it, I don't want to listen to you again ..."

Cen Simiao raised her hand, reached to his lips, touched it lightly, and rubbed her fingertips. Song Boyu reacted, immediately frowning, standing up, his eyes unpleasant.

The mood he used to show was not intense, but it must have been extremely upset at the moment.

Cen Simiao, just like she didn't notice it, took a napkin, wiped her hands, and looked up at him: "You didn't wipe clean."

Then he threw the napkin into the trash can and bent his eyes: "Now it's clean."

Song Boyu was dissatisfied: "How can you touch me casually."

Cen Simao raised her brows and did not speak.

He was still saying, "You can tell me, let me do it myself."

Cen Simiao glanced at him and had nothing to say.

If you change people, Cen Simiao's move may not be wasted, at least the other party can understand her meaning. But Song Boyu really didn't understand anything. Although she felt a little desolate, she did not retreat.

Cen Simiao was so thick-skinned that every time after waiting for Song Boyu to eat, he had to come up and touch the corner of his mouth lightly. At first Song Boyu hadn't found anything wrong, but every time she did it, he was particularly angry.

Later he reacted, knowing to hide. As soon as I lowered my chopsticks, I stood up and hurried upstairs. Cen Simao ran to him, confused, "Why hide me?"

Anger appeared on his face: "You don't listen to me."

Cen Simiao frowned, pursed her lips, and looked a little bit aggrieved. She raised her head and stared at Song Boyu, holding a tissue in her hand, and brought it to his lips without touching it.

Song Boyu retreated subconsciously.

She tilted her head, her eyes were charming, her slender arms were hanging in the air, her eyelashes trembled, and her brows frowned slightly: "But I'm taking care of you."

Song Boyu's face was cold, and she was about to go upstairs, but she had gathered up and wiped the corner of his mouth with a tissue. There was a hint of impatience in his eyes, but when he looked down, he saw Cen Simao's eyes focused, with a gentle smile on his eyebrows, and his movements were particularly gentle.

He did not escape unexpectedly.

Cen Simiao touched his lips and felt a warm touch across a thin sheet of paper.

I don't know how it got into Song Boyu's eyes. After a while, when Cen Simiao wiped his mouth, he didn't show resistance anymore. Then Cen Simao began to have an inch, and it took a lot of effort to enter Song Boyu's room.

With a broom in her hand, she narrowed her eyes and got up. Song Poyu, who was about to go to the bathroom. He didn't seem to be awake, his sleepiness was obvious, but his clothes were neatly dressed and his movements were as elegant as usual. .

The rooms are predominantly cold tones, but with a lot of decorations, they look particularly delicate. An oil painting hangs on the wall. The woman above is charming, lying on a blanket in a long dress, half-shouldered, and her legs are long and slightly bent.

When Cen Simiao was cleaning, she saw the easel at the corner, and a lot of paint accumulated. There is an unfinished painting on the easel. The outline has been drawn, but it is a bit messy and should be just a draft.

She was watching vigorously, and suddenly heard the phone ringing, took a glance out of her pocket, Lin Zhenqi called.

Cen Simiao didn't remember who it was. After hanging up there, she suddenly thought about what the person looked like, the person the original owner was thinking about.

She frowned, her fingertips rubbing against the screen, and she didn't call over there. Cen Simao dropped her eyebrows and put the phone back in her pocket.

The original owner was too proactive when contacting Lin Zhenqi. Almost as long as he had a phone call, the original owner could be on call. If it really falls in love with me, I'll be fine, not a loss.

But every time I sat next to him, listening to his bragging, and the fox friends and dog friends around him also teased her, then drunk and let her take him back.

Cen Simiao deliberately did not call him again.

Before going to bed at night, Song Boyu was going to take a shower. As soon as he unbuttoned his clothes, he heard the bedroom door ring. He looked up: "Come in."

Cen Simiao smiled and looked at the time, especially sorry: "I'm late, I haven't given you bath water."

Song Boyu unbuttoned the two buttons on his neck. He glanced at the bathroom and raised his chin: "Then you go."

Cen Simao nodded, looking away from him, and went to the bathroom in an orderly manner. Opening the shower head, he was suddenly splashed with water.

The clothes she was wearing were immediately attached to her body, exclaiming, "Ah."

After three seconds, nothing remained outside the door.

Cen Simiao sighed, and these days she tried to make Song Boyu feel like wiping her mouth and helping to put bath water and clean the room up to her.

A little bit into his private sphere.

Song Boyu accepted it, but she didn't see any effect, and she had no benefit. Instead, she was exhausted from doing housework every day.

The bath water was put away, and Cen Simiao left the bathroom. Song Boyu had taken off his upper body clothes, revealing a thin body. Fortunately, his muscles were tight and he did not look thin.

Cen Simiao froze.

He had already walked in to take a bath, and when she passed by Cen Simiao, she grabbed Song Boyu's arm, and he broke free subconsciously.

Cen Simiao said softly: "It's still a little cold, wash it quickly."

Song Boyu said, "You don't need to worry about me."

The tone was bland. Cen Simiao rubbed his forehead, looked at his back, and turned back to his bedroom to change clothes. It didn't help him to look anyway.

Unbuttoning the underwear, the cell phone on the bed suddenly rang, she glanced and leaned closer.

Lin Zhenqi.

Cen Simiao waited until the bell rang again, and then turned on when she called again.

The mess was over there, the music was stimulating the eardrums, Lin Zhenqi's voice was taunting: "Can't you come? Today is fun, let alone I don't think of you."

Cen Simiao frowned: "What fun?"

Lin Zhenqi drank hard liquor, her throat was spicy, and her ears were always irritating with strong music. Suddenly she heard her soft tone on the phone, and she was a bit uncomfortable: "You are daring, and interested in such a messy place? , Stay well at home. "

Cen Simiao glanced at the wardrobe. There were no **** clothes. She went to the living room, opened the drawer, rummaged, and got a pair of scissors.

Then walked to her bedroom, looked at Song Boyu's door, then looked away, listening to the voice of shouting from the phone, she was far away from the phone.

Turned on the speaker, threw the phone to the bed, picked a long black dress from the closet, picked up scissors and cut it to the hem.

On the phone: "I'm sure to play a little longer tonight. If you have to work tomorrow, don't come over."

Cen Simao raised her eyebrows: "Can you stay overnight?"

There was a pause there.

After half an hour, Song Boyu stood up from the bathtub, his tight body was cast a layer of ambiguity under the light, and he shouted Cen Simiao as usual: "I've washed, what about the towel?"

No one answered him.

Song Boyu frowned.