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... e Sun Feiyan’s temperament. How was she supposed to know that this time she couldn’t escape death?
“Spare you?” Sun Feiyan pushed her back onto the floor and lifted her right hand that she used to touch Meng Jiao’s face. Ye Xingjie stepped forward and wiped her palm and each finger clean.
“Miss Meng, do you remember why I helped you and sponsored your stay in Silver Leaf?”
Meng Jiao, who looked like a rag doll forgotten by its owner, sobbed and held her swollen f ...
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