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... his gaze was compelling and impossible to refuse.
Through Pello’s glasses, Su Ziceng couldn’t discern his true intentions at that moment.
The hands that had been resting on the horse’s head were lowered, and Pello did not immediately agree, but instead intently observed the changes on Su Ziceng’s face. She was somewhat anxious; Hang Yishao seemed to be getting angry. Whenever he got angry at others, it was always like this—his tone mocking, a smile that hid daggers. Her hand fir ...
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