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... was that this man was Bai Qinghan.
She gripped his wrist, not expecting the other person to capture her hand in his palm, as she felt her back press against a firm chest.
Familiar scent of cold woodiness hit her, and An Yan was startled, then lifted and carried away by someone.
"Scared?" came the man’s low, resonant voice.
An Yan turned around and looked up, and although she couldn’t see anything, the man’s warm breath was close at hand, her voice trembling slight ...
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