It was already ten O 'clock when Fu Shang got home. As soon as he opened the door, he saw Ji Rong sitting on the sofa with her arms crossed and her beautiful lips pursed, like a resentful woman.
Fu Shang held the skewers and she kicked her high heels back. Hey, hey, hey, I bought some skewers. Let's have a good time together!
She stomped on the floor with her high heels and bent down to look for her slippers.
He heard a sigh.
"The ground is cold, don't step on it."
In the blink of an eye, she was carried up by the waist. Fu min was holding the barbecue in her hand, her peach blossom eyes were wide open, and she looked at the man who was holding her.
To be fair.
When Ji Rong wasn't ill, she was really beautiful. Her ink-black hair reached her waist, her skin was slightly pale, and her facial features were dazzling and beautiful, as if she was a soul-stirring demon.
At this time, Ji Rong's beautiful peach blossom eyes were filled with sadness.
