Chapter: 1867
Yes.
Ye Wudao nodded.
Song Qianqian asked again, "Have you ever served in Northern Xinjiang?"
Um?
Ye Wudao frowned, how did Song Qianqian know?
He nodded suspiciously: "That's right."
Song Qianqian's emotions were obviously agitated: "I... I have something to give you, you come with me."
Okay.
A strong sixth sense tells Ye Wudao that what Song Qianqian wants to give her must be no trivial matter.
It is likely to involve the Northern Xinjiang Military Region.
The two walked to the door, and Brother Xiong shouted again.
Stinky bitch, wait, you and your little white face, don't even want to live today.
Even if the sixth master lets you go, I will definitely kill you... ah!
Before he finished speaking, Ye Wudao kicked the opponent's calf.
Just listening to a crisp sound, the scar-faced calf was shattered.
The screams like killing pigs spread far and wide.
The fear on Song Qianqian's face became stronger.
When the two walked out of the bar, Song Qianqian turned her head back in almost three steps, her eyes full of nostalgia and reluctance.
In her heart, this bar is completely unstoppable, and now it's better to take a look at it.
Half an hour later, Song Qianqian brought Ye Wudao to the community where she lived.
This neighborhood is a building from the 1980s, dirty and dilapidated, plagued by mosquitoes, rubbish everywhere, and smelly.
Not even the value of demolition.
This made Ye Wudao frown.
Song Qianqian is a bar owner after all, and looking at her clothes, she is very fashionable and sexy, with the breath of a strong woman everywhere.
How could she live in this place, it seems a bit nondescript.
Song Qianqian's family lived on the top floor.
There is no elevator in this old-fashioned building, and the two climbed the stairs all the way to the sixth floor.
Open the door, the room is clean and bright, warm and comfortable.
Walking in, Song Qianqian said, "Sit down for a while, and I'll pour you a glass of hot water."
good!
Ye Wudao took his seat, and Song Qianqian walked into the kitchen to boil water.
As a result, Song Qianqian just walked into the kitchen, but suddenly exclaimed: "Shanshan, what's wrong with you Shanshan?"
Um?
Is there a situation?
Ye Wudao stood up almost subconsciously and rushed to the kitchen.
Standing in the doorway of the kitchen, everything inside is clear at a glance.
A pretty and cute little girl is curling up in the corner.
Her right hand was red and swollen, as if it had been scalded.
Her eyelashes were covered with tears, but she didn't cry.
After seeing Song Qianqian, the little girl's voice was a little choked and she called out "Mom".
Song Qianqian squatted down, grabbed the little girl's hand distressedly and said, "Shanshan, what's going on?"
Shanshan whispered, "Shanshan is hungry and wanted to cook noodles, but was scalded by boiling water."
Song Qianqian's eyes turned red, and she choked out, "I'm sorry, Xiao Shanshan, it's my mother who didn't take good care of you."
Xiao Shanshan stretched out her little hand and wiped away Song Qianqian's tears.
Mom doesn't cry, mom doesn't cry.
Okay, mother don't cry. Song Qianqian quickly wiped her tears: "Xiao Shanshan, you go to the living room and sit for a while, and mother will let you down, okay?"
Okay.
The little girl nodded obediently.
Song Qianqian picked up the little girl and turned around, only to find Ye Wudao standing at the door of the kitchen.
She gave Ye an apologetic smile: "Sorry, Mr. Ye, this is my daughter, Shanshan."
You go to the living room and sit for a while, and I'll give you a bowl of noodles to eat.
Ye Wudao nodded.
Ye Wudao and the little girl sat opposite each other.
The little girl kept her head down, not daring to face Ye Wudao.
She crossed her hands cautiously, occasionally touching the wound, and twitching in pain, but she didn't dare to make a sound.
Ye Wudao found a simple medical box next to him, so he picked up the medical box and prepared to treat the little girl's wound.
Never thought that the little girl was frightened when she saw Ye Wudao walking towards her, struggling to fall off the sofa, holding the sofa back with both hands.
Wuwu, uncle, don't hit Shanshan, Shanshan knows it's wrong.
Uncle, don't hit Shanshan... JrNovels.com