Marshall He's face turned black into ashes.
It seemed that he had endured it to the extreme and clenched his hands into petals.
Just when he couldn't bear it anymore and wanted to get angry at Dexter He, a finger stained with red nail polish gently landed on his shoulder and said something softly. It was like a switch that suppressed all his anger.
"Ahem..." He cleared his throat, with a stiff smile on his face: "Is the Fourth Prince by your side?"
"He------" Dexter He deliberately lengthened his voice.
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