Just curse me.

Just curse.

Anyway, he doesn't care, this little fish doesn't care, and that little fish doesn't care either.

He is Yan Chanyu, no, Yan Chengyu, so he doesn't care even more.

The fat baby said he didn't care but clenched his hands into fists, like a bunch of carefully made white and chubby buns.

He kept repeating in his heart that he didn't care, and kept saying that he was the crown prince and his father's treasure.

He will be the future emperor.

The fat baby doesn’t know that the more he cares about something, the more he will keep saying it.

At least we heard and saw that there was a little white ball here.

Hiding in his father's arms, his watery eyes flushed red, he comforted himself like a puppy.

Clusters of water droplets condensed on his dark eyelashes, like ice crystals, crystal clear.

He loves to cry and has loved to cry since he was a child.

This bad habit was also passed on to his father.

The emperor once asked helplessly, "Should I return my tears to you?"

Oh, the little crybaby won't admit that he loves to cry.

We also have to pretend not to know and cover up for him.

Because he is so bright and lively, ignore his lust, greed, and fatness.

The breath turned into water, and wisps of hot steam rose up and stuck to the little fat boy's forehead, making his black hair full of moisture.

Sticky on the forehead.

The tiny noises disturbed the emperor even in his dream, and he suddenly opened his eyes.

Eyes like the abyss, as cold as the ice crystals on the snow that have remained unchanged for thousands of years.

At that moment, there was a faint inky light and a flash of black without a medium.

Not quite like a human being.

Emperor Mingxi was still clutching his collar with one hand and stroking the child's back with the other.

But the rustling eyes had already fallen on his child, who was curled up and biting the corner of the quilt, like Han Songzi's child who had just left the arms of his mother.

"Oh." A long sigh.

The clear and cool voice contained endless love, and within that love was a mixture of deep helplessness: "I'm not dead."

Why are you crying if you're not dead? You're crying so pitifully, so heartbreakingly.

Didn’t you say you won’t cry anymore?

Why are you lying on daddy's body and whimpering again? I'm just taking a nap.

The emperor did not even dare to stand up, his handsome face staring straight at the ceiling, not moving a muscle.

Like a corpse that had long since stiffened.

Oh, and the mouth can still talk.

The fat baby who was biting the corner of the quilt and crying kicked the quilt away angrily when he heard this.

He sat on his own father's waist and abdomen, and slapped him all over the face.

The palm wind was like clouds, blowing up the emperor's messy hair.

But not a single slap landed on the emperor's face or shoulders.

He looks very impressive. If he can really fight, he will be a warrior.

The emperor commented like this.

"You are not allowed to say that! You are not allowed to say that!" The little guy waved his hands like a storm.

It was as if he wanted to beat his father into a meat patty.

He had learned martial arts and was very strong. Even though the slap did not land on His Majesty, the whistling wind from the palm still attracted the palace servants and secret guards.

They arrived in an instant and then stood there.

Watching their always cute and well-behaved little prince beating his "paralyzed" old father.

Such treasonous and inhumane behavior is enough to make people shudder!

But what about His Majesty? He opened his eyes and looked at his child in fascination!

Wu Zhonghe had no doubt that he could even reach out to applaud his child and say that he fought well.

Excellent strength.

The palace servants and secret guards retreated like the tide.

What a sin!

"I won't say anything more. I was wrong. If I say it again, just call me, call me--" The emperor saw that he was breathing rapidly and was teased too much, so he racked his brains and swore.

But why would an emperor like him need to swear or swear?

So much so that when the curse comes to be used, one regrets not having used it enough.

Fortunately, his children loved him enough. Seeing his anxious look, they covered the emperor's mouth with their chubby hands.

"You have the elixir of longevity. You said last time that you wouldn't talk about death."

"I don't want you to die."

"Fish meat can make you immortal. I will stew it for you to eat. Please don't leave me."

The little fat boy covered the emperor's mouth fiercely and cried loudly, crying so hard that his throat was visible.

Tears fell on His Majesty's face, neck and shoulders.

And in his chest, the hot tears were like a raging fire, which seemed to burn away His Majesty's sanity.

"Father, Father, Daddy." The little fat boy called out in a sobbing voice: "Don't leave me, don't leave Yu'er, I only have you, I only have you."

Tears flowed down, eroding the emperor's chest inch by inch.

Emperor Mingxi never knew that a person could shed so many tears.

Like a flood, half of his chest was hot and burning, as if on fire.

Emperor Mingxi blinked blankly, wondering, is this my illusion?

"Speak up, speak up!" The chubby boy who had lost his mind stared at the emperor, wanting to get a positive answer from him.

He looked so pitiful when he cried, his face all red.

Wrinkled like a small bun.

Emperor Mingxi was being ridden by him, such a fat and plump fish, whose plump butt had been watched closely by the fish since childhood.

He couldn't even struggle, let alone speak?

The iron-like palm was pressed on his mouth. Seeing his anxiety, the emperor wished he could grow thousands of mouths to answer his questions.

1002 is very experienced in this regard, after all, he has been suppressed by fat fish before.

Fortunately, the little fool is sometimes very smart and takes his hand away halfway through pressing.

This chapter is not over yet, please click on the next page to continue reading!