“That was his bad luck.”
“Really? Grandpa, if you go on like this, you will get more and more sleepless.”
“Come on!” The old man put down his brush and started his anger.
But the third son of Sheng didn’t say much. The old man thought that Scott Everwood’s family had nothing. He could only watch Jing Ting burn and then burn. He must not know that the eighth is now the president of Zhongteng.
Behind the old eight, there are countless mysterious forces of Charles Brighton.
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