Zhan Nanheng’s eyes were dark, thought to himself.
Under the soft light, her seaweed-like hair blocked her side face, faintly revealing the ivory-white skin and the small tearful mole at the corner of her eyes, and the people who looked at her felt a little soft.
Zhan Nanheng subconsciously moved his fingers to help Alana poke his hair away.
But just lifted up, a heavy shadow has already fallen!
The wrist was instantly controlled by a strong force, and the pain hit.
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