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... Zhou Lin unconsciously walked over, his voice carrying a tenderness he himself had not noticed, "Milk."
Cheng Zhiwei lazily lifted her eyes and took it, "Thank you."
The dress was loose, and since Zhou Lin was standing, a glance downward allowed him to see her pale collarbone and the graceful curve below.
A string in his mind "twanged" taut and then snapped.
Cheng Zhiwei had already drunk the milk, a trace of white lingering on her lips, to which she subconsciousl ...
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