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Her palm was clutching Yan Huan’s right hand, while her left hand was restlessly inching upward.
"Here?"
That was the wrist.
"Here?"
That was the waist.
"Or... here?"
That was the back.
As her hand gradually moved up, Ye Shiyu and Yan Huan’s gestures seemed in opposition but in fact formed an embrace.
Her body was soft as early spring, carrying a coolness, thus craving Yan Huan’s burning warmth.
The process of absorbing ...
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