As soon as Wen Ran sat down in front of the dresser, he heard the door of the study open, and Mo Xiu's dusty figure appeared in the mirror.

Although she had shared a bed with him a week ago, at this moment, her heart still skipped a beat inexplicably.

The hand holding the comb paused slightly before slowly combing his hair.

Mo Xiuchen walked towards her with elegant steps, her slender figure reflected in her dark pupils, the closer she got, the stronger the faint fragrance lingering between her noses, irresistibly penetrating into his lungs through her breath, spreading to every cell.

His eyes were shining, and he couldn't help but be a little dark.

"I'll help you."

The man's deep voice drilled into the eardrums, and Wen Ran's hand was suddenly grabbed by a broad palm, and her heartbeat suddenly broke out of rhythm in his touch.

Qinghong's eyes widened in astonishment looked at the handsome face of the man in the mirror, and then she understood what he meant by the phrase 'I'll help you' just now, and she refused without thinking: "No, I'll comb it myself." ”

He took another half step forward, her back suddenly stiffened, his body was almost against her back, through the fabric, she could clearly feel his temperature, her fair cheeks instantly flushed with a thin layer of powder, and her heartbeat became even more chaotic.

"Do you remember what I said during the day?"

Mo Xiuchen's broad palm wrapped her little hand, neither letting go, nor snatching the wooden comb in her hand strongly, just holding it like that, the strength was not light or heavy, but she couldn't break free, the heat of his palm passed through her skin, straight to the dirt, and she felt that the blood in her whole body was heating up.

She hurriedly hinted to herself, don't be nervous, don't be nervous, this man is sick in that area and won't treat himself like this.

"We are husband and wife, we have to get along for a lifetime, not strangers, you have to get used to me."

Without hearing her answer, Mo Xiuchen took the initiative to speak, and his deep magnetic voice spread out in the spacious and silent master bedroom, and finally formed an impenetrable net, enveloping Wen Ran.

In her heart, there was a little warmth, a little touch, and what emotions she had, she couldn't describe it herself, but the hand that grabbed the comb unconsciously loosened her strength.

Mo Xiuchen smoothly took the comb in her hand, let go of her hand, her deep eyes paused in the mirror, and her blushing face paused for a moment, and then slowly helped her comb her hair.

Wen Ran sat stiffly on the chair, not daring to move, Qinghong looked at the man in the mirror with fixed eyes, watching him comb his hair gently and gently, sliding down from the top of his head with a big palm, and then going back, so repeatedly, but he did it naturally, and her heart was filled with a layer of fine softness.

Thinking of the things that Zhang's mother told her in the days when he was on a business trip, her soft heart was filled with a little distressed emotion, such an excellent and perfect man, how could God be so unfair to him, let him suffer so much from childhood to adulthood.

"Mo Xiuchen!"

With a soft call, he couldn't help but overflow his red lips.

"Hmm!"

The man's deep, magnetic voice sounded above her, and his eyes were looking down at her hair, and at the same time looking at her in the mirror, his eyes were deep and warm.

"That, give me the comb, you go take a bath, you definitely haven't rested well on a business trip, take a shower, rest early."

Wen Ran called him, but she didn't know what to say, and he stared at him fixedly, so she found a topic randomly, and reached for the comb.