The body in his arms was soft, and his brow frowned slightly on his small face, seeming extremely painful.

Luo Fei hesitated for a moment, and then she hugged her horizontally.

With both hands, she took the neck around him and giggled: "Luo Fei, have you never held a woman like this, now holding your little stepmother, what's the feeling in your heart? Do you want to fall I?"

The former Loser glanced back and said nothing.

Luo Fei's body was tight and her lips were tight. She didn't know how she thought about it.

I thought she would continue to make fun of him, but she said nothing, but put her head on his chest.

Her cheeks were hot, and his chest seemed to be familiar.

When he entered the room, he was going upstairs behind the old man, but she said, "You put me on the sofa. I remember the medicine in the first aid box in the locker."

The old man has been helped upstairs by Uncle Wang.

Luo Fei put her on the sofa, and found the medicine box again. Seeing that she was asleep on the sofa's pillow, he hesitated slightly, and then she squatted to help her take off her high heels.

She wore stockings and could no longer help her to take them off. He carefully cut the stockings with the small scissors in the medicine box. At a glance, her ankle was already swollen.

No wonder she shouts pain.

He applied the medicine to the red and swollen ankle, and rubbed her for a while as instructed.

Her feet are small, small and white, her five toes are rounded and small, and they look very nice.

He squeezed, his eyes gradually attracted by her feet.

Her voice sounded at this moment: "Does my foot look good?"

He heard that his face flushed instantly.

She let her feet go as she burned her hands.

Yange didn't need him to respond, chuckled, and said, "The old man likes my feet the most. I remember when he was young, he liked to play with my feet. It was a special hobby."

He was extremely embarrassed. At this moment, he had a feeling of restlessness and embarrassment. He turned to leave, and she took one of his fingers.

"Brother." She called softly, dragging his finger repeatedly.

As if his finger was plasticine.

The heart he had been surrounded by toughness, because of her soft whistle, suddenly collapsed.

Looking down, she sat with her head against one of his legs, looking up, a pair of misty eyes drenched in wine, looking at him: "Brother, am I terrible?"

She didn't ask what she said.

But he instantly understood that she was asking him that her achievements today are not great.

She looked at him with anticipation, so he suddenly remembered the picture that he was looking forward to being bragged by the old man with his academic results as a kid.

"Great." His hand touched her head and rubbed lightly. "Very powerful."

Yeah, she used to be a wasteful second generation, who can walk step by step until now, who dares to say that she is not great.

She pinched his leg, as if she had sugar, and smiled with joy.

With a ridiculous smile, tears rolled up in his eyes and he murmured, "I'm so powerful, why aren't I happy?"

He touched her head and froze, and he heard his voice gently and tremblingly ask her, "Why not happy?"

She didn't respond, he looked down and realized that she was holding his leg and fell asleep.