100 Ways to Get the Male God

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【Story 15】

【Feng Qing·Fanwai】

...

—※After the end of the tenth plane※—

·

The young man slightly supported his fair chin, and lowered his eyes quietly hidden in the air.

The space was distorted, and the girl's figure gradually appeared.

Feng Qing raised her eyes slightly, her expression unchanged, but a pair of beautiful squinting eyes stopped on the girl.

"Can the soul of the adult be temporarily awakened?"

She seemed to be just asking casually.

The system did not answer.

The boy looked at her silently, and when he saw the girl seemed startled, he raised his eyebrows:

"You can wake up, but you don't want to come back?"

The boy's eyelashes trembled slightly in the air, and he lowered his eyes silently, his expression quiet.

How to explain it.

He was quiet for a long time before pursing his lips slightly.

The figure of the girl disappeared into the space again, and the boy held his forehead with one hand.

In the system's slight nervousness and anxiety, his voice still could not hear the emotion:

"Looks like you're angry."

Is it angry.

The system did not respond, but Feng Qing was very clear.

She was raised by him, and he knew that the little girl almost never showed her emotions, not to mention grievances, not to say tiredness.

Always well-behaved and obedient, if she is suddenly silent and quiet like just now, it means that she is sad, or sad, or angry.

Angry……

The young man lowered his eyes slightly, and in the quiet expression, there was a slight daze, he closed a pair of beautiful eyes, but his tone was so light that he almost murmured:

"……How to do it."

a long time.

He opened his eyes and walked slowly.

The surrounding main god space slowly dissipated, and the scene in front of him began to become clear.

This is a familiar little plane.

He was standing in front of the door of a villa.

After a moment of silence, the slender young man gently pushed the door in, raised his eyes and looked into the house.

There was no one in the huge living room.

He pursed his lips and went upstairs along the revolving escalator, walking through an unfamiliar corridor.

He doesn't come back here often, so looking at the layout here, it's vaguely unfamiliar.

In this house, there are not many traces of people's activities, and only a small part of the kitchen is used.

The used bowls have been washed and placed neatly in the cupboard, clean with tiny drops of water.

The rubbish left over from the meal was also cleaned up, and the rubbish bag was well placed in the corner, waiting to be taken away and thrown away when going out the next day.

There is only one room at the end of the corridor.

But it was sorted into two.

Another room that was neatly tidy and unoccupied, just empty.

The boy stood outside the empty room, stopped for a while, then walked towards the end of the corridor.

He stopped at the door of the room and stood silently for a few seconds.

Then gently push the door open.

The room was huge, but the lights were on and not off. There was no one in the indoor living room, and when I turned to the living room and came to the inner room, I saw a little girl huddled on the big bed.

She frowned and fell asleep.

The clothes in the closet are neatly sized, the workbook is organized and placed in the corner of the table, and the pen is placed on it.

She closed her eyes, as if she could imagine how she came back alone, cooked the meals in silence, washed the dishes, picked up the trash, returned to the room to do her homework, then quietly put away the homework, took a bath, and climbed on the bed cover. Put on the quilt and sleep with your eyes closed.

This process may always be quiet.

The boy stood quietly in front of the bed, his eyes stopped on the sleeping girl frowning.

He leaned over.

The slender, bright red lips fell gently like petals, and were printed on the girl's fair forehead.

"Don't hate me."

he whispered.

...

"I beg you."