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... he, in turn, turned toward them. And I'd clutch onto my seat and hold on for dear life.

If I had known I'd be riding shotgun with a man that takes red lights as mere two-cent suggestions, shooting past them whenever he's run out of his three collective seconds of patience… yeah… I'd rather be walking… rather the chance of spraining my ankle than spraining my freaking neck.

But too late now. There was absolutely no way out of this lovely gesture of goodwill. Especially not at the ...

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After quitting the national team, Qi Yue devoted herself to agronomy.

At a certain party, someone was booing, and whoever lost the shooting game would be kissed by Qi Yue.

Looking at Qi Yue, who was planting potatoes with a hoe with a sloppy face and a muddy face, in the experimental field, the big guy’s face turned green.

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