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The front desk was manned by a middle-aged man with lewd features, engrossed in his phone, watching something. Faintly, phrases not of their own language could be heard, “Yametode,” “Comor,” “Ikuyo”…
“Renting a room?” Huang Xiaolong stammered as he and the bashful Song Yuru entered. The sleazy man looked up, and in an instant, he was dazzled by the sight of Song Yuru!
Beautiful!
Busty!
Long legs!
Slim waist!
An innocent allure, spiced with a ...
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