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... ers was more cowardly.
Bai Weiwei’s fingers stiffened, and she immediately straightened her body, not wanting to be looked down on by him.
She drew back and flicked her whip.
“What can you do if I let it fall? You can see, but you can’t touch.”
Her fingers were slender and white as snow. Gripping the black whip, they held a poisonous charm.
Each time she struck him, she did not cover her body, stretching herself into a provocative1 arc.
Making him forget the p ...
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