Yvonne Zheng and Shujin looked at them and sneaked out.
Charles Cui looked up and saw the woman’s snow-white skirt disappearing behind the door. She stayed in a daze, then lowered her head and continued to drink casually. He was used to drinking the crudely cut pear white, and felt that this tea was very weak.
“Xiao Wangwang, won’t you chase it out?”
The ancestor lay unloved in the Sea of Soul Consciousness, stunned like a cabbage that had been soaked for a long time, his hair was wet, and he seemed to have just experienced a big storm.
“Don’t chase.”
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