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PREVIEW
... it anymore, holding Xia Yichu's hand, his movements became familiar.
The arrow was on the string and had to be fired.
After Xia Yichu shook it a few times but couldn't shake it off, he only pretended to be dead, lying on the bed, staring at the snow-white ceiling above his head, blushing, and ignoring the movements of his hands as much as possible.
It was just that the teenager's thick, husky gasp and the hot breath he sprayed on her neck made it difficult for Xia Yichu to i ...
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