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... girl gripped Xue Ling’s collar tightly, writhing uneasily in his arms. Her disheveled black hair tangled with the golden hairpin, lashes damp and dense, casting shadows over the brilliance of summer. Her small face was flush with an extraordinary crimson hue, enchanting in its allure.
Xue Ling wasn’t doing much better himself.
He had drunk more iced tea than Xue Mianmian, and now that the heat surged up, he couldn’t help but irritably loosen his collar.
But the restless ...
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