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... mething?”
Qiu Xing saw Xie Yang’s calm face and the question, ‘Why aren’t you grabbing my hand today?’ rolled around in his throat. He couldn’t say it and finally choked out a sentence. “It’s nothing.” Then he strode to his study and closed the door hard.
Xie Yang smiled and continued upstairs.
At 10 o’clock in the evening, Qiu Xing tidied up his hair, pulled his dressing gown and sat in a chair closest to the door, waiting for the mouse to come. He concluded that if Xie Yang ...
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