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... and when she poked her fingertips, a small depression was poked out, like strawberry-flavored marshmallows.

Soft enough to taste.

Chu Chisi sat on the edge of the bed, the long black hair flowing down his shoulders, and a few strands swept across the back of Tang Li's hand, leaving a little bit of coolness.

"Well... I don't think you dare."

Chu Chisi smiled, she pushed away Tang Li's wrist, but brought her face closer again, the faint fragrance came and brushed Tang ...

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Wen Qiao said shamelessly, “I’m your wife.”

Young Master Fu was confused, but he only remembered one person. If she said yes, then so be it.

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