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... promptly grabbed her wrist, “Joining me for a meal, and you feel aggrieved?”
He pulled her to sit down.
She immediately withdrew her hand and frowned.
A nineteen-year-old girl, indeed, tender and soft. Miao HuaRen glanced at his own hand, stroking his fingers, “Mrs. Qiao didn’t mention it to you, so let me tell you.”
He called over a server and handed over the menu that he had ordered, his arm nearly touching the back of the girl beside him. His gaze unintentional ...
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