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... njuries on her forehead.
Tang Moer looked at the man in front of him, and it was him again, and every time he appeared when she was helpless.
Now his rough fingertips were pressed against her delicate skin, perhaps because she was injured, and his sharp and tightly contoured lines showed a bit of anger, her heart trembled and her eyes were a little bit Humid, wanting to lean on his arms.
She suddenly understood that she was probably interested in him.
Every time she w ...
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