Ivy held back a smile, and was about to lift him up from the ground, and suddenly there were layers of fluttering shadows beside her. When she looked up, she realized that it was Leo.
He glanced at her quickly, and his tone was a little hurried and low for some reason: “I’ll do it.”
“But you’re not…” She paused to consider her words, “Don’t you like to be in contact with others?”
Leo pursed his lips and shook his head, put Zheng Zeyu’s right arm on his shoulder and stretched out his hand to embrace his spacious back.
A bit of secret dryness has long been born in the spring air, and the body of the strange male emits hot body temperature, like a sharp needle pierced into his arm, making him subconsciously want to frown and move away. But Leo finally resisted the nausea that surged upwards, and whispered: “You are too weak.”
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