PREVIEW
... food stuck in Tan Yulin’s throat was swallowed as An Zhiyan’s slap made stars dance before his eyes.
"An Zhiyan, are you trying to commit murder?!"
An Zhiyan glanced at him coldly without saying a word.
It was the scholarly and elegant An Zhihang who, with a smile, gently adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose and gracefully twisted a soup spoon on the dining table into a corkscrew shape.
Tan Yulin shrank his neck and sheepishly glanced at the still-smilin ...
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