"I also think that white is best matched with a little dumb." Yan Ge smiled and frowned happily: while helping him wear a white wig, he said: "Little dumb's vision is really good."

After she fixed the wig for the man, she put Bitongtian on his head again: "With Bitongtian helping you fix it, you are not afraid that the wind will blow your wig away."

The role of the pro-son looks very big!

Yange rubbed the green fur on the chicken feathers, and rubbed the man's white hair again ... oh no, it was white hair.

"It feels good." Yan Ge said this, grabbed the man's hand and put it on his hair: "Little dumb, you feel it fast, is my hair feel good, or yours?"

The man's hand didn't move, she grabbed his wrist and touched her hair twice: "How's it going?"

This time it was too much sacrifice.

As soon as Yange was about to throw away his hand, he realized that the man automatically put his hand on her head again, and then slowly touched down ...

The words "creepy" are actually most appropriate at this time.

Yange's hair was about to burst. She was afraid she couldn't keep it up, so she stood up and stretched a lazy waist.

When weaving those hairs one by one, she also neglected the immortal spirits in her body that were always violent.

Her hair was woven, and the fairy spirit in her body was cleaned up.

This feeling of physical and mental well-being made her feel that she had seen freedom, equality, hope, peace, friendship ...

Jumping on the branches and doing a few stretches, Yan Ge turned his head and smiled at the man with a smile: "Little dumb, I'm leaving."

She handed a jade bamboo slip to the man: "There are many secret recipes for hair growth in this, you can try it after you finish, there will always be one of thousands of methods suitable for you."

He pointed to the top of the man's head again: "Bitongtian is my favorite tiara. You should take good care of it and don't lose it. When your hair grows, you don't need it, you will remember to return it to me."

When the evening wind blows, the man's long white hair slightly swayes with the wind, his words reach out, and a strand of white hair is entangled in his hand: "Your long hair looks so beautiful, and you don't know the hair that grows on your head What color is it."

After a pause, he looked at the sky and said, "I really have to go, little dumb, goodbye."

After speaking, the clothes on his body turned black, and the whole figure looked forward, as if integrated into the night, and no trace was visible at all.

As soon as Yange left, the man standing in place, his face gradually seemed to be invaded by the cold, his expression became colder and colder, as if the ice scum could fall out of his eyebrows.

He raised his hand and tried to remove both the wig above the head and the green hairs, but he pulled out the green hairs a few times.

The green hair cover seemed to be integrated with his head. At the end, his scalp was hurting, but the cover didn't move.

The man's twinkling eyes slammed the direction in which the song left.

The cold in the eyes was gradually filled with killing intention.

His lips moved slightly, his low voice with a strangeness that did not fit his whole body's aura: "A rare magic repair, guess, if I eat her, can I get you off!"

At the end, a low, but extremely whispering voice was scattered in the wind: "Want to kill her? Dream!"