A drunken and vicious man's voice came from not far away.

Ye Luo looked up and saw Shen Yan.

Unkempt, with a flushed face, holding a wine gourd in his hand, drinking as he walked, his cheeks showed an abnormal flush, and his eyes flashed with the madness and ferocity that are unique to alcoholics.

Ye Luo was stunned.

Is this Shen Yan?

Is it the high-spirited and invincible Shen Yan she knows?

Is it Shen Yan, the handsome and proud son of the sky in her memory?

Is it the original soul of this body, the ex-fiancé who is obsessed with love?

Everything, like a joke.

No wonder Lin Yi desperately admonished her, insisting on pulling her to see Shen Yan, persuading Shen Yan not to drink too much and get lost. At the age of seventeen, a genius became a waste, and a teenager became an uncle.

"I ......"

Originally, Mo Suran, who was unstoppable in front of Ye Luo, saw his drunkard husband walking towards him with his fist raised, and he was so frightened that he stepped back, and his whole body trembled, "Don't hit me, I just wanted to ask her for a nine-eyed dzi." ”

She even forgot to call herself "Ben Princess", and in a panic "me, me, me".

From the fear in Mo Suran's eyes, everyone understood that Shen Yan had beaten his wife not once or twice after he was drunk, he was a habitual offender.

"You dare to ask her for something? Miss Ye's stuff is also something that a stinky like you can grab casually? Shameless! See if I don't beat you to death! ”

Shen Yan rushed over, twisted Mo Su's hair, crackled, and slapped several times in a row, showing no mercy at all.

Mo Suran's face immediately became swollen high, and the corners of his lips were stained with blood.

She was terrified, with tears in her eyes, and she didn't even dare to resist.

"Stop fighting, please, woo-woo-"

"! Underplayed! Little slut! Crawling! ”

As if he hadn't heard his wife's plea for mercy, Shen Yan pressed his wife's head and knocked on the stone lion by the door of Ye's mansion again and again, "I will be arrogant in front of Miss Ye and make you arrogant!" Make you cheap! ”

Knock knock

Mo Suran's forehead hit the stone lion, again and again, and after a while, a large piece was broken, and blood flowed out.

The crowd was silent.

Ye Luo and Si Yutian didn't stop it, they just watched the play.

Because they both knew that Mo Suran was an eighth-order mad martial artist, with excellent physical fitness, but when he hit the stone, he would suffer some skin trauma at most, and he would not be able to hurt his bones and brains, let alone die.

Everything is Mo Suran's own fault.

Ye Luo just looked at it, looking at Mo Suran's eyes, from fear to fear, from fear to sadness, from sadness to despair. She cried and cried, her face was bloody, and she didn't know if it was the blood that had slipped out, or if she had already cried bloody tears.

Get you back?

In the dictionary of a desperate woman, these two words simply do not exist.

Mo Suran's fear and surrender to Shen Yan came from the heart.

Shen Yan fought there, for more than 20 minutes, as if he was tired, he finally stopped, and finally kicked Mo Suran's stomach in disgust, and spit on Mo Suran's face, "Phew".

Shen Yan vented enough, turned his head and looked at Ye Luo.

He suddenly became restrained, subconsciously tucked his somewhat messy hair, wiped the wine stains on his clothes, and stroked the folds on his clothes. He stood below, looking at her above, wrapped in a sable cloak, his skin like condensed fat, his eyebrows like green feathers, his lips like pinch, his eyes like stars and moons, and his posture like clouds in the nine heavens.