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... ying anything.

Wen Qing understood that this meant that he agreed.

Song Jiaren sat in the car. The originally spacious space seemed narrow because of her entrance. She occupied almost two seats alone. She looked at the man who was still coughing and said, “Give me your hand.”

Yan Cheng closed his eyes. Even in such a wretched state, he was still like an emperor. He stretched out a hand and handed it to Song Jiaren.

Song Jiaren looked at this hand and couldn’t help ...

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