"Can you help me with the thrush? My eyebrows are a little light. "

Ning Yaoyao looks at Ye Tian with a gentle look.

"yes."

"for life?"

"yes."

"now."

"yes." Ye Tian's words fell, and his palm slightly wiped in the air. Then he pinched two fingers, and a brush of a thrush was in his hand.

"I thrush for you." Ye Tian goes to Ning Yaoyao's front, and draws the brush on her light eyebrow, one by one, carefully, tenderly and intoxicatingly.

Ning Yaoyao quietly looks at this big boy who is not handsome but has a strong taste. The older a man is, the better. Because he is...