Zheng Ran put down his wine glass, lowered his crossed legs, stretched, slowly put on the wrist guard, walked slowly to Rachel Xia, looked down at her, and took the baseball bat from her.
"If I do it, it may not be as simple as cutting out a part of the stomach." Zheng Ran picked up the baseball bat and weighed it in his hand.
Rachel Xia couldn't drink alcohol yet, but there was no juice or drinks prepared here, so Rachel Xia could only watch with the red wine.
"It's been aged for twenty years, what a pity!" Rachel Xia put the wine down, took a photo of the surrounding environment through the wine glass, and sent it to Liang Jinglu.
Recently, she has been in frequent contact with Liang Jinglu, but she would not take the initiative to contact him. She would only contact him once or twice, but she would suddenly stop replying. To put it bluntly, everything depends on her mood.
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