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... ing the vines of desire to grow wildly, making her grow up. She just wanted to hug Yan Chuyu's slender waist, kiss away the tears from her eyes, bite her lips, and listen to her sweet voice.

The evening wind crept into the car along the window gap, Song Nianying took a deep breath, trying to restrain her desire, she changed the subject: "The emerald on your neck is so delicate, what pattern is it?"

She saw it in the hotel just now and wanted to ask.

Yan Chuyu's voice was eve ...

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