The Slag Gong wants to Kill me

Chapter 13

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Zhuma's recent itinerary is to participate in the promotion of the film, to participate in interviews, and several entertainment programs. I calculated his interview time and the time spent on the road, and arranged for several reporters to block him.

Although this is my whim.

I also tried to get the actor and the bamboo horse to meet again, but the difficulty of this matter is obviously a bit high. After all, I can't get the itinerary of the actor, so I have to give up this plan first.

When my husband came back that day, I saw that his face was tired, and there were very obvious marks of a slap on the palm, but it was not a bamboo horse.

Judging from the size of the palm, it probably wasn't made by a bamboo horse. I estimate that the person who hit my husband was about 1.85 meters tall, and I ruled out some options, probably in the film king and his brother A or someone else I don't know.

But I think the probability is A.

I went to get a hot towel and put it on his face. I even squeezed out a few tears, pretended to be concerned, and asked him, "Does it hurt?"

My husband shook his head, and he replied, "It's fine."

He didn't seem to want to explain why. I didn't ask, anyway, there are only so many explanations.

He then sat down to eat. I put the bowl of drugged dishes in the second position on his left hand side. I have observed that he especially likes to hold the dishes in this position, perhaps because it is convenient. And this location is also convenient for me to give him those vegetables to show my concern.

My husband still had an unwavering look on his face at that time, perhaps because his anger had paralyzed his mind, and he almost ate the whole plate of food.

According to the rules, today is my turn to do the dishes.

While I was doing the dishes, I heard my husband's footsteps by the door, and he hugged me from behind, whispered in my ear, and asked, "Tonight, are you going to do it? "

Live your dreams. It occurred to me for a moment that my cleanliness could not be tolerated in one night.

"No." I said, "I have to write an article tonight."

"Okay." He looked a little disappointed.

Afterwards I heard him pick up a phone and he seemed to be gone. I put the bowl down and went to the living room to find my locator. As I expected, he probably didn't go to his bamboo horse.

It seems that what I predicted earlier about their quarrel is true.