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... ao had imagined.
An Nuo was chatting with her friend Shu Qiao. It seemed like the two of them had not seen each other for a long time.
Murong Qiao held a wine glass in her hand and swept her cold and distant gaze across the crowd of the banquet, noticing the protagonist of this banquet.
“Han Peibai,” she said his name softly.
He had a refined appearance. Perhaps it was because he had studied abroad that he had a more elegant and unrestrained temperament. Therefore ...
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