Song San rarely smokes.
At least he is not addicted to himself, but at the moment he looks at the figure in front of him.
He rubbed the corner of his mouth, but couldn’t get a hint of smile.
But it is extremely rare to draw a cigarette from his pocket, but his eyebrows are very heavy.
A pair of black eyes squinted across from the other side was an unstoppable Qing Jun. Although his posture was arrogant, the familiar casual tone of voice shocked his heart.
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