Shi Yanyang stood in her place a few meters away, her eyes quietly falling in her direction, in the middle of the night, dark ink, like a shining star.

Tong Yan slightly stunned, his eyes moving slowly from bottom to top along his figure, and he looked at him without any trace, looking at him neatly, even if his clothes were not wrinkled, she gently Replied.

Calm down his face, and suddenly did not happen, and casually picked up a small amount of hair in front of the forehead, she faintly returned to him, "stupid people who drive the accident."

She is ridiculing him, Shi Yanyang makes fun of her stupidity, he is not angry, not irritated, fluttering a word and throwing it back to him.

Shi Yanyang’s darkness as a star was only staring at her quietly, and her words, accidents, did not make any rebuttal.

This kind of him, let Tong Yan smashed.

On the micro side of the corner of her eye, her gaze glanced at him without any trace.

Shi Yanyang was walking towards her, the slender legs were staggered, the hard leather shoes stepped on the snow, and the occasionally broken branches made a creaking sound.

He looked at her eyes very bright, and every walk went so powerfully.

Tong Yan looked at him closer and closer to himself, and forgot to react.

Shi Yanyang came to her with her slender legs, stood in front of her, glanced at her, and then made an accident that made Tong Yan unexpected.

The line of sight slowly glanced around her, her body half-bent, and his gaze patted the snow residue left on her clothes every time she walked past a place.

There was a very different gentleness between his movements, the snow **** on her clothes was smashed, and the two hands pulled the ends of her clothes, like tidying up a child who had just fallen over, and helped her by the way. Caress the upper folds.

Tong Yan Muran let him move, and his heart seemed to be gently swayed by something, watching his eyes sparkle.

Shi Yanyang carefully helped her to organize her clothes neatly, straightened up, her eyes shifted to her face, her fingertips inserted into her hair, and she began to wipe the snow on her hair.

Tong Yan left his entire movement, did not say anything, and did not push him away.

His movements, especially meticulous, occasionally licked from the cheeks of Tong Yan's cheeks, cold and cold, like an ice sculpture in the winter, inexplicably let Tong Yan have the urge to warm him.

Shi Yanyang is still helping her to wipe off the snow on the hair, slow and patient.

Tong Yan is from small to large, and the longest hair is just too much.

In Shi Yinyang’s impression, she rarely has long hair fluttering, let alone the long hair and waist images that many men admire.

The childhood in memory has always been simple, refreshing, dry and crisp, and not as good as a girl.

However, I don't know when she started, she slowly kept her long hair.

Shi Yanyang's fingertips wrapped around her little hair, gently circumvented it, loosened it and hooked it up, so she played it several times, and he stared at her hair quietly.

Now the child's face, the hair is long and the chest.

Her hair is very smooth, and when she is casually draped, she sat on her shoulders like a satin, and it glows like a night.

Her five senses are extremely delicate, and when they are short-haired, they will show a bit of good-spiritedness, and their hair will be a little more feminine than ever.