Chapter 1798: Love Letter 3 (1/2)

Feng Xinglang was listening attentively at the time.

You can even count the beats and time spent by the little guy every step.

I have to say that the science and technology content of Xing Shiliang got quite strong. Even the little gasp of the little guy can be heard.

”Bang bang ...”

The child Feng Fengzhe stopped outside a closed room door. The door was locked, leaving the little guy to slap him in the air.

Feng Xinglang checked the location of the small things, which was at the top west corner of the second floor. The door was locked in Feng Xinglang's memory. But why do small things persevere tap the door?

Could it be said that the door was opened at some time?

A series of associations came up: for example, the quilt covered by his son; another example was the small cricket that his son hit;

Feng Xinglang's alertness is quite keen. But at the moment under the focus of monitoring, but weakened a lot.

Of course, if in front of a big witch, his little alertness is completely negligible.

A smoky smoky cloud flew over, taking on a slight herbal breath.

Lying sideways, Feng Xinglang did not even realize that the composition of the air around him had changed, and he was breathing as long as he could breathe.

He didn't even notice the sighing sound in the dark.

The drowsiness struck in layers in an instant. Before Feng Xinglang took a few breaths, he felt that his eyelids were too heavy to open.

This broken place with a broken sofa, do you sleep so well?

Feng Xinglang rubbed his eyes more and more drowsy, and when he wanted to raise his spirit to continue to monitor his son's movements, he was still trapped by the layers of drowsiness and finally fell asleep.

A bony joint with a clear and slightly rough hand slowly came over, and very lightly removed the invisible earplug from Feng Xinglang's ear; sent it to his ear and listened for two or three seconds, Sent back again.

It was supposed to be plugged back into Feng Xinglang's ears again, but the hand that had been probed was slightly quiet, and finally just placed it in his ear.

The face was still handsome, with a sharp sense of clarity; his handsomeness was stained with evil.

Feng Xinglang, who was asleep, lacked the usual suffocation and deceit, but had a slightly softer beauty: a thick sword eyebrow, a tall nose bridge, and the pale lips ...

If you really die, you can't live well! He could even be scolded and jumped up and down even though he had descended to eighteen levels of hell!

Ninety-nine times brushing his face can be extended to: his needs for him? Or is he nostalgic for him?

But the dignity of the last step ... but still couldn't hold it!

Eighty-six face brushings are far from the final ninety-nine times ... seems to be a lot worse!

Will this be the typical example of sincerity? It seems that my behavior is still so naive!

Is it pay? Is it please? Still charming? Or an alternative licking face?

Such self-inquiry has to rise to the level of ‘what is the value of a person ’s life’!

Some things, since I haven't figured it out after spending more than two years ... what else do you want to do!

Think of it as an ecological balance!

Isn't it common saying that one thing falls into another! Maybe it's applicable to him and him!

Bone-jointed fingers came over, and stood still two centimeters above the bridge of Fengxing Lang's nose .... It was amazing, the pinched fingers fell down, and they passed across Fengxinglang's nose!

Is it revenge? !!

Or is it a gift for him?

The clapping from the second floor interrupted such silence; the sweater man immediately flew up and floated upstairs.

”Big ... big ... big bug.”

Capturing the shadow, the little boy rushed over happily and kept thinking about it in his mouth.