I Married a Disabled Tyrant After Transmigrating

Part 125

Accepting the seemingly very good advice from the Longchens, and recalling that Mrs. Long did have some uncomfortable expressions this morning, Mr. Long felt that he should do something.

"I beg her for forgiveness, cook for her, and call her whatever you want."

Mr. Long whispered what the little Zilong had just said, thoughtfully.

When cooking, he remembered that his wife seemed to prefer to eat a kind of shrimp from the bottom of the sea.

Mr. Long carefully packed the dragon horn lotus, shrinking into an inch, and went to the bottom of the sea.

After searching for a long time, he found a third-order deep-sea silver thread shrimp. He cut off only the tenderest part and prepared to take it back to his wife to eat.

But soon, the dragon fell into a new round of entanglement...

Long...

Can't cook.

When he was young, there was no chance, no food and firewood for him to toss.

He was older and wandered all the time. When he was wandering, the dragon was still growing. He couldn't get enough to eat just the cooked ingredients, so he either didn't eat it, or he ate a lot at a time.

After becoming the Dragon King, there is no need to cook.

Therefore, when he returned home lightly, facing the cold pot and stove in the kitchen, the strongest of our Dragon Continent wanted to please Mrs. Mrs. and was completely at a loss.

About an hour later...

Mu Wanwan woke up in an unspeakable taste.

She felt as if her body had been run over by a truck, and she felt very aching everywhere.

His mind gradually became clear, all the absurd memories of the previous few days flooded up, and Mu Wanwan caught a glimpse of the red marks on his wrists, and his cheeks were astonishingly hot.

"Madam." The door was pushed open, outside the red curtain, Mr. Long, who finally finished the meal, held the plate and called her softly.

Mu Wanwan heard his voice, subconsciously stretched out his hand to tighten the quilt, and his voice was a little nervous, "You, you go out first."

She spoke with a hoarse voice, several degrees lower than usual.

"The dragon wants to be with Madam." A certain dragon over there seemed to have a deep sense of taste.

Mu Wanwan had to lie down under the quilt again. Before she had time to drill, she saw a somewhat slender palm lift the curtain, and Mr. Long squeezed in with a plate.

She glanced at the bruise that hadn't faded from the corners of his lips, and thought of some indescribable pictures, a little uncomfortable.

"Madam, do you want to eat something first."

Mr. Long shook his ears, with a smear of dust on his cheeks. I don't know what caused it to be burnt. The food on the plate in his hand is also a bit wrong. Although it looks normal in color, how does it smell? How strange.

just...

Mu Wanwan couldn't help but feel a little soft when he looked at it with such small eyes.

"You go out first, I'll change my clothes."

"Madam." The dragon's tail sounded a little longer, and his voice was still cold, but he said a little like a baby, "The dragon doesn't want to go out."

Mu Wanwan: "..."

She silently glanced at a certain dragon who had suddenly become very clingy when her nature was exposed, and simply put her head in the quilt and ignored him.