PREVIEW
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"what……"
A low growl came from behind.
When Su Yangyang turned his head, he saw that the man on the chair was swaying, about to fall, and immediately reached out and fished it into his arms.
Bo Silin lay down immediately, sniffing the soft fragrance from the tip of his nose, and sighed.
"Before, I have fortune-telling." He said weakly.
Su Yangyang was silent for a while.
Bo Silin arched into Su Yangyang's arms, "Tell me that I can't handle the eight ...
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