After asking, she didn’t wait for Xiang Yiqing to make any response, and walked past him without looking back.
All night, Xiang Yiqing thought about the questions Qiu Yang asked him.
Thinking over and over again, imagine that kind of scene, that kind of picture.
Isn’t Xin Xiaoxiao always holding his arm and hating him not a Siamese baby?
How can you hold another man’s hand?
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