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Mr. Long tried his best to suppress the curse in his body, and after listening to the man in his ear babbling about his plans for the future, he finally regained a little bit of consciousness and seemed to be a little blurry again.

Did he hear it wrong?

He must have heard it wrong. How could this cheap daughter-in-law of Chongxi Lai not mind when he looks like this? I have been crying a few days ago, but it has changed so quickly?

Mr. Long desperately suppressed the strange feelings that were surging from the bottom of his heart, expecting and fearing, and desperately brainwashing himself:

Impossible, he is a waste dragon, the tail is rotten and the horns are gone, and there are curse marks all over his body, so ugly, so unpleasant, how could she not dislike it.

Even when he was at his best, no one ever treated him with sincerity. This person must have some ulterior motive to approach him...

I just fed him porridge, so gentle, it should be pretending.

Although the tyrant didn't know what benefit Mu Wanwan would do to her by pretending like this, he didn't even know what he had to figure out now.

His cultivation base was almost sealed, he was cursed, the most precious horns and tail tips were gone, and his family was searched after the defeat, and all his rights were lost because of the wrong trust. If there is anything of value, it is probably the pronucleus that has been broken into several pieces.

Oh, if the bones are boiled in soup, the taste should be fine, but I don't know if the curse of the abyss monsters is engraved on the bones.

Mr. Long thought a little sarcastically, but no matter what he thought, Mu Wanwan didn't know. She counted the difficulties of life in the future little by little, and carefully calculated how to allocate the monthly schedule reasonably. The voice was very soft, like a pervasive fire. , a little bit to prevent Mr. Long's heart from melting.

"Now in mid-October, the monthly number is only a little bit, and there is not much spiritual rice." Mu Wanwan was counting the three meals a day in the future, and suddenly thought of something, suddenly reached out and touched Mr. Long's belly exposed outside, confirming In addition to the tight abdominal muscles, there was only a little shriveled, and I was relieved.

Her movements are actually very light, but the delicate touch with some body temperature suddenly came to Mr. Long, who had never had close contact with anyone except fighting, but it was like several roaring fireworks, with a bit of numbness. The electric current suddenly blew him up.

She touches him!

There was only one thought left in his mind. Mr. Long waited for a long time before he heard her next words——

"It's a little shriveled, it shouldn't hurt the stomach." Mu Wanwan said to himself, "Then you can eat other things, but I don't know what the seeds are in that bag, it would be great if it was a vegetable... ..."

Are you making sure his stomach is okay?

A strange feeling slowly rose in his heart, the tyrant's eyelashes kept fluttering, and he silently explained in his heart that when he was half-dragon-shaped, his stomach was shriveled, which was different from other dragons.

When I was a child, it was because I couldn't eat enough. When I grew up, my stomach became very small.

The unpleasant memories are accompanied by the itching and pain of the dragon's tail. The curse of the monster seems to have a chance, and it continues to wreak havoc on the tyrant's limbs.

Mr. Long tried his best to suppress the pain in the meridians, his face was pale, and he was sweating coldly.

Mu Wanwan noticed that his brows were wrinkled even tighter than usual, his eyes touched the black bugs that kept coming in and out of his half-rotted dragon tail, and his scalp was numb.

"Does it hurt?" She cheered herself up and said, "I'll help you right away."

Mu Wanwan stood up in a hurry. She remembered that there were some knives and gauze in the side hall. The wound on Mr. Long's tail could not be dragged, and she had to get some hot water.

But her messy footsteps and breathing were like a sharp sword, shattering the tyrant's just-rising expectations.

She really did pretend.

Listen, her frightened tone.

She was probably frightened by his appearance. What I said before was really fake!

The tyrant sneered in his heart. He could feel some pus, accompanied by bloody scales, constantly flowing out from the terrifying tail. The black and red curse kept rising and falling, which was disgusting.

He felt disgusting, so why should he have any expectations?

















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