Looking at the meat buns and returning to the bowl, Evelyn really wanted to poke the chopsticks back.
“I don’t like to eat buns, really.” She bitterly pressed her face and returned the buns to the Mason bowl, the big deer-like big eyes, looking at him pitifully.
Mason’s heart slammed and hurriedly slammed his head and counted the rice in the bowl. Even the buns were forgotten.
Finally, I didn’t have to eat the steamed buns. Evelyn smiled and smiled. The **** eyes were turned into crescent moons, full of charm.
On the side, the other three are awkward.
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