A group of people walked into the appraisal center mightily.
The two glass doors that had just been opened just closed behind them, completely blocking the curious gaze of the outside world.
Alana and Long Qing were walking forward without squinting their eyes. Neither one glanced at each other. The others followed behind them, no one spoke, only the footsteps on the cold marble floor echoed.
The ten reporters and their team followed behind them with bated breath. I don’t know if it was an illusion. There is always the illusion of silent drums sounding.
The paternity test center is on the seventh floor.
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