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... iled gently, her slender fingers playing with the man’s earlobe, “Mo Chen, brother, your earlobe is so thick, truly a sign of wealth.”

The man furrowed his brows, his lips tightly pressed.

His earlobe felt as if it was being gently scratched by the paw of a little kitten, itchy yet comfortable.

“Little Ghost, stop it.”

His voice was so hoarse, it had reached an ultimate low.

But Qiao Ruoxin, stirred by mischief, intentionally brought her lips close to Mo C ...

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