Yvette Yue sat aside quietly drinking tea.
She was dressed in Tsing Yi, demure and gentle, like a young lady coming out of a big family.
Yvette Yue has no weapons, and her pair of cloud sleeves are weapons.
Around Yvette Yue were a group of warrior warriors, either holding knives in their hands or carrying swords around their waists. In the building of Chunfeng Yixiao, the guarded women in powder coats and masks seemed to have seen nothing.
Yvette Yue finally put down the cup in her hand. She stroked her sleeves, and the atmosphere in this building suddenly became tense. Yvette Yue glanced at the group of people, covered his lips and smiled lightly: “You don’t need to be so nervous, I have already sent Jade Guanyin back to the general altar of Bishui Sect. As for me, the purpose of coming to Chunfeng Yixiaolou is the same as you. It’s fun, and if you can see the spring breeze and smile, it’s worth spending a lot of money.” Like a lady, but also like a wave of flowers, two completely different temperaments. Yvette Yue’s body merged.
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