Chapter 1235

In Shen Chengjing's memory, there is no other person except Jiang Yuanyuan who can do such extraordinary things.

Now when she heard the story of Mo hongtan, she felt that these two people were printed in the same mold.

"Jiang Yuanyuan is not her rival." Mo Yanchen is very sure to say, Mo red sandalwood has a sense of propriety, but if it breaks down, it is able to tear down the house.

After dinner, Shen Chengjing, on a whim, plays games with Mo Yanchen.

"You're still a rookie? Are you sure? " Shen Chengjing watched the man break through the barrier step by step, and soon reached the highest level. She was still at the primary level.

She protested, but the man thought it was naive.

"This kind of naive, too simple, all the pattern is not enough, you can see that the founder's IQ is not high enough, you can see this." He said, putting his arm around her shoulder and letting her lean in his arms, he reached out to open another one: "this is the occasional play of aze when there is no doubt about it."

Then he began to teach her.

It's rare that Mo Yanchen, who has always been a workaholic, didn't talk about work tonight, and even played games with her!

She looked up at his side face and saw that the man didn't seem to remember anything, but she knew that he wanted to find something instead of thinking about his mother.

In the memory of this man, the closest! The greatest man is his mother!

"Uncle, it's almost twelve o'clock." She reminded him.

Some things, want to avoid is unavoidable! Or face, only face, later can go further.

After hearing this, he stopped and looked down at her eager eyes.

"Change your clothes and come with me." He said, got up and went to the wardrobe, took out the clothes and handed them to her, he also changed.

At 11:30 in the evening, he took her in one hand, cake in the other, and took her in the ink garden.

"Drop." At this time, the front sounded the alarm, but after Mo Yanchen appeared, the sound disappeared immediately.

She saw that there was a door here, and the place was relatively partial. She seldom walked behind the ink garden, and never found it.

He stepped forward, opened the door and went in.

"This is mom?" She walked in, but it was a small room, not big, but with many pictures and faces! But the look is vivid.

She had been in his study and had seen the photos he had taken! It was his biological mother.

"Well, every year on my mother's birthday, I draw a picture. So far, I don't seem to remember what she looks like." He said in a deep voice and put down the cake.

At that time, I was still young. When I grew up, my memory gradually blurred. Although I kept drawing, I wanted to keep the outline. Unfortunately, the outline, which was very disappointing, was getting farther and farther away.

"I'll come, too." She said, went to one side, picked up the drawing board, stood on one side, with the photos he held in memory, she drew a sketch.

Mo Yanchen stood behind her and looked at her figure. She was constantly busy.

He came forward, from behind her, reached out to hold her little hand, followed her gesture, two people fit painting, she pointed to him with a smile, he told her, where to do.

"Orange, it's good to have you." At the end of writing, Mo Yanchen wrote her name below.

He was alone every year. It seemed that since he met her, the loneliness had all dissipated. After every year, every day, have her company, he seems to have no need, or do not care about those fuzzy memories before.

"I thank my mother for giving you such a good birth to me." she laughed.