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... pter 892: She is Really Not Good at Playing Matchmaker for the God of Love _1
“Cough, cough.”
After an incense stick had burned, Lin Qingluo learned Lin Qinghan’s intention. The tea she had just drunk, still not yet swallowed, almost got sprayed out.
Not only that, she even choked on it, holding her chest and coughing continuously.
“Cousin, please help Qingying,” Lin Qinghan begged with clasped hands, his face pleading as he smiled.
Lin Qingluo: “…”
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