The True Mistress Has A Thousand Hidden Identities

Song Lishu clutched the water cup tightly, his face turned pale, and he quickly stepped back two steps, tripped on his heel, and sank down on the steps, looking embarrassed.

What is Huo Baiyuan thinking? What kind of method did she think of to make her just right?

murder? accident?

Song Lishu only felt like he had become a prisoner, accepting the death sentence.

Maybe she will never see the sun tomorrow.

Song Li didn't drink the water, and almost fled back to the room.

She was paralyzed on the cold ground, the empty glass fell aside, and she held her head tightly with her hands, feeling that the torment in her heart was far greater than her body.

Gradually into autumn, the weather began to cool down.

Song Lishu was lying on the bed, flipping the calendar on the phone, her exposed arm was as thin as a pole, covered in skin and bones, and there was no meat at all. The cheeks on both sides were also deeply recessed, and the eye circles were black.

The most obvious manifestation of the deterioration of the condition is that she has no appetite to eat, and sometimes it becomes hard, and she will be vomited out. Her body starts to hurt every inch, so that she can hardly sleep, her weight drops rapidly, and her breathing is exhausted.

Song Lishu's eyes fixed on a certain date in the calendar.

It was her birthday, just a week later.

Last year, before her birthday, Huo Baiyuan recovered his memory, and it was a pity that he had not been able to spend time with him.

This year...is it all right?

It should be her last birthday, she wants to have a happier life, and have a more meaningful life.

The eve of birthday.

The night has come quietly.

Song Lishu was sitting by the bed, staring at the dark night outside the French windows. She was actually a little unable to sit still, her thin figure swayed, as if she might fall down at any time, but she still straightened her back.

Song Lishu clutched the water cup tightly, his face turned pale, and he quickly stepped back two steps, tripped on his heel, and sank down on the steps, looking embarrassed.

What is Huo Baiyuan thinking? What kind of method did she think of to make her just right?

murder? accident?

Song Lishu only felt like he had become a prisoner, accepting the death sentence.

Maybe she will never see the sun tomorrow.

Song Li didn't drink the water, and almost fled back to the room.

She was paralyzed on the cold ground, the empty glass fell aside, and she held her head tightly with her hands, feeling that the torment in her heart was far greater than her body.

Gradually into autumn, the weather began to cool down.

Song Lishu was lying on the bed, flipping the calendar on the phone, her exposed arm was as thin as a pole, covered in skin and bones, and there was no meat at all. The cheeks on both sides were also deeply recessed, and the eye circles were black.

The most obvious manifestation of the deterioration of the condition is that she has no appetite to eat, and sometimes it becomes hard, and she will be vomited out. Her body starts to hurt every inch, so that she can hardly sleep, her weight drops rapidly, and her breathing is exhausted.

Song Lishu's eyes fixed on a certain date in the calendar.

It was her birthday, just a week later.

Last year, before her birthday, Huo Baiyuan recovered his memory, and it was a pity that he had not been able to spend time with him.

This year...is it all right?

It should be her last birthday, she wants to have a happier life, and have a more meaningful life.

The eve of birthday.

The night has come quietly.

Song Lishu was sitting by the bed, staring at the dark night outside the French windows. She was actually a little unable to sit still, her thin figure swayed, as if she might fall down at any time, but she still straightened her back.