Ye Cheng’s expression turned gloomy. He did not speak and silently ate a mouthful of rice.
Seeing this, Zhuang Ning could not bear it. She scooped a bowl of soup and handed it to him as she said, “Alright, alright, I said that wrong thing. Here, have a bowl of soup. I stewed it for two hours.”
Ye Ch...
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Sir, How About a Marriage?
Chapter 857 : Atmosphere
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