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When he received the call, Chen Jiabin was stunned. He never thought that he would hear his mother's cry. Her mother cried on the other end of the phone and said, Jiabin, Mom doesn't want to live, I really don't want to live... Chen Jiabin said upset, Mom, don't cry, tell me, what happened? Your dad left me and went with that vixen! I can't find him! Where is this killer hiding? Mom cried sadly, Jiabin, come home and have a look! Come back soon. Mom said Chen Jiabin didn't say yes or no. He slowly hung up the phone, his mind went blank. He didn't know what to do next. The phone made a clear and sweet ringtone again. He knew whose call it was, but he didn't want to answer it at all. He just let the ringtone fly melodiously in the air.

Wang Huiyu cried with joy. She bent down, then squatted down, and called Chen Sansheng with trembling fingers. Sansheng, the baby is okay, okay, it's okay... Her left hand gently beat the ground, as if beating time. While undergoing examination and treatment in the emergency room, Zhang Qingli was completely frightened. Her face was pale and she stared blankly at the ceiling of the ward. She couldn't figure out how she had the courage to face the transport truck all of a sudden! What would you do if you were run over to death? She knew that she didn't think about anything at that time, her only thought was: I can't bear it anymore, I can't keep this child. When she learned that the child in her belly was safe and sound, her tears suddenly fell down. She thought, why was she so stupid? Would you do such a thing? The child in my belly is my own flesh and blood, the fruit of my love with Chen Feng. Chen Feng's good things are coming out little by little, and I have no reason to strangle his life.

A black shadow flashed past my eyes and soon landed on a window sill nearby. I took a closer look and saw that it was a cat covered in golden fur. It jumped far away, turned around again, and stared at me with its green eyes. I breathed a sigh of relief and showed my teeth and claws at it. It looked at it in confusion, then gave a hoarse cry and completely disappeared into the distance. I stared blankly at the place where the cat had been just now. It was now empty. Where will it go? I have no idea. The night was deep and quiet, and you could hear the rustling of fallen leaves being blown away by the wind. I have been standing on the balcony for a while. It can be said that for a long time, I have always liked to think about some problems quietly on the balcony late at night.

Tell the truth. When the girl gave him a toothy smile, Yin Dechao's heart trembled violently. The smile was like a glutinous rice dumpling, and it suddenly slid down his throat, and he couldn't help but swallow. If you bite into that chubby face, it will definitely taste delicious. The teeth are also white and neat. If you lick them, what will they taste like? He couldn't tell, but he guessed that the taste was definitely right. However, when his eyes fell on Li Qiushui's short body, he still hesitated. Oh my god. This Li Qiushui's head only touched his shoulders. In fact, he knew that his height was only about 1.61 Or 62 meters. How could it be such a short bottle? How about I marry a short bottle back and use it as a chamber pot? Before coming, Yin Dechao thought beautifully, give me a tall woman. Children born to tall women must be tall.

Huang Junjun looked at Li Hongqi blankly, as if he suspected that those words came from his mouth, because now Li Hongqi does not look like a mentally ill patient who has just recovered, but a philosopher. She was suddenly moved and said firmly, "Li Hongqi, don't worry. I can tell you responsibly that you will definitely go home and return to your 95-square-meter house." In front of Huang Junjun's eyes, Li Hongqi's former home seemed to really emerge, because he had described to her more than once that the house was all covered with wooden floors, and you could walk barefoot to the balcony, because the balcony was also covered with wooden floors. He liked to let the sun shine on the wooden floors, and also on him sitting on the floor reading a book...

I have interviewed several people today, and their skin is ulcerated and their faces are covered with black scabs. Severe liver damage. I've been sorting through their materials. The tragic experiences of those migrant workers made me forget about food and drink. I kept thinking about myself. What would happen to me if I was also among their team? I can't imagine. Every time I write a piece of text, there will be a poisoned person dangling in front of my eyes. He or she is crying and looking at me helplessly, hoping that I can help them escape the pain. I can't help feeling sad and angry.