PREVIEW
... etched out his large palm and carefully inspected the wound on Tang Mo’er’s forehead.
Tang Mo’er looked at the man standing before her. Why is it always him? He always appeared whenever she was in her worst state.
His rough fingertips pressed lightly against her delicate skin. He seemed to be angry about her injury, since his face was wrenched up like a twisted wet towel and his face was as dark as a looming thundercloud. She was touched by his concern and found ...
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