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"Give me it?"
The corners of her lips are slightly hooked, and her haughty tone is proud. "Xiacheng is not very cold. Why do you send me a scarf?"
"Did I say send you off," Lausanne glanced at him lightly.
"Who do you want to send if you don't send me?" Nian Junting's face sank. "Tell me, I'll interrupt his neck and make him impossible."
"..."
"Say," Jun Ting stared at her.
Lausanne rolled his eyes and said, "I kindly send you this, because you yours ...
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