"Don’t cry. If you go to my bed like this, you won’t be able to sleep. Can’t I share the soup with you?"

"You go!"
Listen, he’s not sincere at all to comfort Yaner, and suddenly he’s even more sad and angry! She rolled over and sat up. She jumped at Zhao Xiaogong with her thin arms and tender legs. You’re welcome to greet him.
"You want to fight, right?"
Zhao cuo didn’t gently raise his hand as a threat.
"Don’t be angry!"
There was a psychological shadow. Mrs. Flame was heartbroken, panicked and embarrassed, and cried even more.
"No fight, no fight …"
Zhao Cuo had a splitting headache and knew that this fool couldn’t cry hard, so he barely patted her beautiful back lovingly.
"How can you be as bad as that woman with that surname!"
She grabbed Zhao’s wrong clothes and sobbed and buried her little face in his arms, sobbing piteously
"Flame son couldn’t eat meat bedding skin! Five years ago, something happened to my dad, and my mother couldn’t bear to go with me. At that time, I wanted to go out of the palace to see them off, but the bad woman was not allowed to go into the palace. Even if she didn’t enjoy the national luck, even her parents would come to serve. "
"Flame son really hard luck? Don’t cry, ok? I give you my sister’s soup. "
Zhao Cuo rarely said softly that he knew what to say at this time. Although women are magical creatures, it is practical and effective to drink more hot water when they are sick, but they prefer to listen to "pitiful, I hug you."
"Don’t call you Yan Er ~"
She opened her misty purple eyes with some embarrassment.
"Then don’t cry?"
Zhao Cuo feels that this monk is too difficult, that is, asking her to come over and practice together has turned into his efforts to comfort my little girl.
"Don’t cry for a while …"
She bowed her head and wiped her tears on Zhao’s wrong clothes.
"Then you cry slowly. I’m going to have soup."
Zhao raised her hand in disgust and wanted to wipe this snot and tears at herself, stupid young woman.
"Didn’t you say to give the soup to Yaner?"
She said with a flat mouth
"I’m just fooling you … I can give you a small bowl."
Zhao Cuo is worried that she can cry endlessly and give up what she wants.
"Come here."
He took Mrs. Yan, whose figure was too rich to match the pure tears on her face, to the table and sat down.
"wipe away tears"
Zhao Cuo took out a handkerchief and pulled her delicate face unceremoniously.
"Don’t you know anything about compassion?"
Flame son didn’t resist is expressed dissatisfaction.
"hmm"
Zhao cuo ignored his complaint and simply took a look at the lid of the table soup pot, then he hesitated.
"This is sea cucumber lean broth. Do you want to drink it?"
"What is not?"
Flame son looked at him strangely.
"give"
After confirming that she really didn’t know the soup, Zhao Cuo picked up a small bowl of soup and handed it to her, but she blew it directly on the pot.
"Your sister’s cooking is really good."
After tasting it, Yan Er immediately praised.
"Isn’t that of course?"

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