Seeing that the enemy was defeated.

Zhao Ye shook his head and said casually: "There is nothing that cannot be said. It seems that my mother especially likes a poem by the Russian poet Surkov, called "The Resin in the Field is Like Tears". So, I took it for me.

This one."

Gao Xiaoqin shoved the towel into Zhao Ye's hand without saying a word, and said disgusted, "Hey, are you guys all lazy? During dinner last night, Han Jianguo passed by me, and the smell almost made me smell like

Even the overnight meal was spit out. What do you think, it would be easy to wash it!"

It’s so miserable for me. My father has passed away for many years and my mother has gone away again. I’m afraid there will be no more time in my life. So what should I do? Could it be that I will cry like you, and I can’t live a life?”

"Where are you looking at? Are you shameless?"

"Well, the handwriting is so good! This seems to be a Russian poem, which poet?"

Zhou Rong said speechlessly: "Nonsense, of course I know that this was not written by him. I mean why did he give you this poem?"

In fact, to a certain extent, Zhao Ye is not nonsense, because in the memory of his predecessor, this is indeed his favorite poem by his mother in this life.

"I'm talking nonsense? Who is surrounding Zhao Ye every day? Can't that person be me?"

Gao Xiaoqin patted her breasts with a large size and complained casually. She suddenly noticed that Zhao Ye's thief eyes were looking around her. She was immediately angry and kicked her up.

"Just accumulate some moral character! I don't care about talking about you. Why do you immediately change your mind once what you say is in your mouth? Can't you be more serious?"

Zhao Ye said righteously: "What do you know! I am so happy in pain, keep a positive and optimistic attitude, and always be ready to sacrifice my head and shed my blood for the revolutionary cause!"

"Really, then I'm not polite!"

Thinking of Wu Mangui's wife's thick waist and her exposed big buck teeth, Gao Xiaoqin could no longer hold back and laughed:

Zhao Ye was not embarrassed at all and said calmly: "I'll wash it when I go back today."

During the bickering process, Gao Xiaoqin suddenly found that Zhao Ye's cotton jacket was wet, and she couldn't bear to hand over her towel and reminded her with concern: "Wipe your sweat quickly and don't catch a cold!"

Because the flame of my love will never fade,

"What is it called Surkov."

Gao Xiaoqin opened her mouth, but she couldn't help but say what she said in her heart: "Then have you ever thought seriously? If... I mean, Feng Huacheng is not what you think, what should you do

?”

"Poetry, whose poem? Let me see it!" Zhou Rong's eyes lit up, and she squeezed to Gao Xiaoqin and turned her head over.

When I was a child, whenever I couldn't sleep, the foreign mother would slowly read Russian poetry to her in her not fluent Chinese, and the one I read the most is this one.

Gao Xiaoqin tilted her head and replied, "I asked you at that time, why your parents gave you this name, you haven't told me yet."

Unfortunately, Zhou Rong had to pay attention. She was no longer on this at this time. She just saw half of her eyes, so she pushed Gao Xiaoqin's shoulder and teased:

"I think it's because you women are difficult to serve. This is a requirement. If I want to hold on to you all the time, how tired should I be?"

Hearing Gao Xiaoqin's cheering, Zhou Rong felt a little harsh inexplicably, and pulled the quilt on her head with anger, and said irritably: "Go to bed quickly, let's talk about it tomorrow if you have something to do!"

When I wrote the last few chapters, I forgot to divide them into chapters, so I simply posted them into two-in-one chapters and told everyone.

Recently, I have been conceiving the plot outline below. I have already conceived it and strive to update two chapters of more than 4,000 words every day.

I hope everyone supports it!
Chapter completed!