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... bedside, watching him anxiously.
The young girl was clearly already a maden, but her face still displayed the mellow tenderness of childhood.
Qi Chimu’s dark eyes that scrutinized her carried the utmost indifference.
Of course, this kind of scrutiny only flashed past.
Soon, his eyes were layered in a false appearance of gentleness.
Bai Weiwei held out a bowl of ginger soup, speaking in a hushed voice. “Drink some ba.”
Qi Chimu was not so stupid to ask, ‘why a ...
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