Mingzhu herself felt that her words were a bit ridiculous, a naive lie, and no one would believe it.

Of course Zhao Shi would not believe it. He looked at her with fear and disgust, and the steps under his feet abruptly retracted.

The scorching sun hung in the sky, and the blazing sun above his head made his face whiter. He lowered his face and said dumbly, "I will not threaten you with children."

The stone in Mingzhu's heart fell to the ground, but he didn't dare to believe his words completely.

After Xiao Man awakened Hong Ling, he ran out again, holding Mingzhu's calf, extending his arms towards her, raising her chubby face, "Mother, hug."

When the little girl is clinging to people, she likes to cling to her mother all day, and she cant separate herself when she sleeps.

Mingzhu picked her up, afraid of basking the child, so she first blocked her from the sun with her hands, and then hugged her to rest under the pavilion.

Zhao Shi is like an outsider, unable to speak.

Mingzhu promised to make kites for her daughter, and there are oil paper and paint prepared in advance in the pavilion. She squeezed her daughter's fleshy little face, and lowered her head to discuss with her in a soft voice, "You sit down and mother will make you a kite, okay?"

The little girl was reluctant to let go of her hand, buried her between her mother's neck, and sniffed the fragrance on her mother's body.

Mingzhu laughed helplessly, "Little sticky guy."

The little girl still didn't quite understand what little sticky spirit meant, so her round and fleshy fingers grabbed her mother's collar, and after a while, she reluctantly let go of her hand.

Mingzhu put her in a small bamboo chair and concentrated on making her a kite.

Mingzhu is good at craftsmanship, but she is still puzzled by what style to draw on it. She bent over and asked, "What kind of animal does Xiaoman like?"

"Butterfly, butterfly, important butterfly and butterfly."

"good."

However, Mingzhu's painting skills are comparable to her handwriting, which is really not very good.

Mingzhu lifted the pen, did not move it, nor did she dare to act rashly.

Zhao Shi walked behind her silently, took the brush in her hand in silence, and outlined a butterfly pattern in a few strokes, which was lifelike, agile and lively.

Mingzhu's thin lips pressed into a faint straight line, she was a little annoyed, this kind of inexplicable annoyance rose in her chest, but she couldn't vent it.

Zhao Shi's voice came over heavily, "Okay."

Mingzhu didn't expect that his solemn Prince would also make these gadgets.

She did not speak.

I don't even want to give this kite to my daughter.

Xiao Man was a little restless, sat crookedly on the bamboo chair, and wanted to stand up.

Mingzhu was afraid that she would fall, so she hurriedly supported her, "Don't move."

Xiaoman's dark eyes were full of water, "Mother, I want to fly."

Mingzhu smiled hard, "Okay."

Then put the newly made kite in her hand, "Hold it and play."

Two or three-year-old children, of course, can't fly kites, they just hold the paper kite firmly in the palm of their palms, and cling to it indiscriminately.

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