PREVIEW

... ps gathered, eagerly awaiting the emergence of the competitors.

Zhuang Qingyan’s wheelchair was positioned at a distance from the others, his solitary figure stretched out by the streetlight.

A faint smile graced his lips as he asked, “Why is your face so puffy? Did someone bully you?”

“No.” Song Ke pursed her lips.

Still saying no even though she felt wronged almost to the point of showing it on her face. But Zhuang Qingyan kindly didn’t expose her, saying, “Alright, if ...

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