Chapter 315: he doesn't deserve my makeup
Chapter 315 He is not worth my makeup
Behind the bead curtain, the two sisters turned their heads to look at the other side, with their backs facing the two on a blind date, their shoulders shaking.
Immediately, I couldn't hold back my laughter.
The people over there obviously don't understand the suffering of the two of them, and they are still chatting harmoniously.
"Our family has been passed down for three generations. If we can continue the incense next year, my mother will be very happy."
"October pregnancy, counting from now, you can have two children by the end of next year, be bold, you marry two, one twenty-five and one thirty-year-old, so that next year your mother will have four grandchildren, no matter how bold you are Some, maybe all twins."
…
Lu Jingzhi: I will really die of laughter.
Jiang Wunian: My stomach hurts from laughing.
The wind is surging.
But Yang Yuecheng and Wang Chuan both had smiles on their faces, and their tempers were softer than the other.
Hearing the knock on the door, the two got up, and Yang Yuecheng greeted the two sisters, "It's time for us to go home."
"Oh, why are you crying?"
Lu Jingzhi's eyes were red, and there were still some tears in his eyes. When he heard the question, he bulged his cheeks.
It was the tears that were suppressed from laughing.
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An's was uneasy all the way, and she didn't dare to ask more questions, so she asked in a low voice when she got home. Yang Yuecheng stomped her feet shyly, and ran back to the room.
An patted her thigh and said to her man, "This, is this interesting?"
I was a little pleasantly surprised by my daughter's sudden enlightenment, but also a little bit dazed.
If it really works, I will get married...
Yang Yuecheng sat down quickly with a blush on her face. She didn't have a desk in the room, but it was very convenient to see that Jiang's family had a desk, so she asked a carpenter to make one.
In the words of the sisters, this is her desk.
Pull out the paper.
No need to work hard to grind the ink, just take out the pencil and draw on the paper.
As Xiaoya said, inspiration is fleeting.
A bad pen is worse than a good memory.
Wang Chuan.
It is very suitable for wandering in her dog blood.
As night falls, candles flicker.
What is the reason for the young woman to write vigorously.
The town, the Wang family.
"How is that girl? What's her appearance, what's her personality like?"
"Very lively...gentle."
"Lively and yet gentle, is it lively or gentle?"
"Mother, the medicine is cured."
"Tell me the truth, does she dislike our old lady who takes medicine all the year round and needs someone to take care of her? Well-matched women look down on us, or else with my son's looks, we won't worry about getting married."
"That's not necessarily the case. Today, the two little girls brought by Ms. Yang secretly said that I look plain."
"You still eavesdrop on what the little girl is talking about."
Wang Chuan had a delicate expression.
Does not count as eavesdropping.
Count peeking.
The two little girls have beautiful handwriting.
One is delicate and the other is sassy.
I was afraid that I muttered too much, so I didn't notice when I dropped a piece of paper.
"The matchmaker said that if the man is interested, he can ask the girl out for a walk in three days. Are you going?"
"go."
"If the girl's family refuses, let's go to the next one."
"Why can't we start a business first and then start a family?"
The shriveled and thin woman on the bed shook her head, "I don't live long, and I want to see you get married."
Just a few words of effort, people are physically weak.
"Mom, rest first, I'm going to review my homework."
Three days later.
Yang Yuecheng refused to put on makeup, "The weather turned hot, and I didn't dare to wipe my eyes after sweating, for fear that it would be dark."
Lu Jingzhi took it seriously, "Do you think he is unworthy?"
yes.
Give up, no need.
"Then you still agree to go for a walk." As soon as Lu Jingzhi finished speaking, Yang Yuecheng and Jiang Wunian took out their small notebooks and waved them.
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