PREVIEW
... urself easily, the tip of your nose is sore
Mu Yan was dressed in gauze as white as moonlight, paired with a soft robe embroidered with intricate and delicate patterns. Holding an ancient wooden comb in her slender jade-like hands, she slowly combed her hair in front of the bronze mirror, completely ignoring Zhuo Wu’s words, her expression dignified and graceful.
Zhuo Wu, watching her from a distance, was not surprised by Mu Yan’s reaction. Ever since Mu Yan had been for ...
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