The other side of the corridor.
Jiang Xibao’s room.
Yuan Bao, who had run away with anger just now, was sitting on the sofa, Mengmengda cupped her cheeks with both hands.
“Sister Xibao, how long do you think that nasty ghost will take?”
Jiang Xibao sat across from him, and Mengmeng held her cheeks with both hands.
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